#and i want it to be very angst but comforting

[mggslover]

Reflections

In which Spencer sees himself in a suspect, making him willing to do anything to protect her. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: crime x angst? x fluff? Content warnings: post prisoner!spencer (but no spoilers bc i'm still on s11 lol, so sorry for inaccuracies), one time mention of suicide and rape (no details), fade to black smut so suggestive content Word count: 3,8k A/n: my own entry for #lovers1kevent ! bit different from what i usually write. didn't exactly turn out like how i had envisioned it, but i'm still very curious to hear your thoughts!

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.” The sound of a clock striking midnight made you jump in your seat, the plastic stool screeching loudly against the cold, concrete floor. The interrogation room was filled with nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the pounding of your heartbeat. Everything in this room felt eerie: a harsh light shone down on you, irritating your eyes, and there was no escaping your reflection in the two-way mirror in front of you. You observed yourself through the glass, and to put it simply, you looked awful. The dress you were wearing was crumpled as it hung loosely on your frame, the dark circles under your eyes were noticeable from a distance, and your eyes themselves expressed no spark. They looked dimmed, with no emotion behind the colored irises. Though, that had been so for a while now.

The creak of the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, feeling disappointment when the same agent as before walked in. He wasn’t hard on the eyes: dark skin, rolled-up sleeves that showed his muscular forearms, a neatly trimmed goatee covering his sharp jaw, and eyes that looked just as cutting as they darted over you. Maybe, in another life, you would’ve considered dating him. In a life where he didn’t suspect you of killing three men.

He stayed quiet as he made his way over to you, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. He placed a folder in front of him, shoving it toward you. “Still not going to talk?”

You cleared your throat. Nevertheless, the words came out hoarse. “I have nothing to say.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance before crossing his arms. “Do I need to remind you of your rights? You can contact a lawyer, or we can get you one.”

“I also have the right to remain silent.”

A small huff escaped his lips, and you noticed the way he clenched his fingers, as though trying to hold himself back from making a comment he’d regret.

His eyes landed back on you, glaring. “A girl like you won’t survive in prison.”

“Well, then it’s good that I’m not going to prison,” you snapped back with a small smile. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You didn’t do anything wrong, yet here you were.

“I’d lose the attitude if I were you because it’s not looking good.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he cut you off. “Open the folder.”

You inhaled deeply before obeying. You hated the way you couldn’t help the nerves from creeping in. Your hand trembled as you opened the folder. The picture that greeted you was one of three lifeless bodies slumped over each other in an empty alley. A bitter tang formed in the back of your throat, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to look back at the agent.

“Looks familiar?”

Your eyes flicked over the image again. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“The people. Do you recognize them?”

You nodded.

“I want a clear answer,” he said, his voice raised.

“Yes,” you replied, matching his tone. “We went to college together.”

There was no way you could forget them. Unfortunately. The idea that they were wiped off the face of earth gave you a strange sense of comfort. Maybe now you could find the peace you’d been looking for. The peace she was looking for.

The agent seemed relieved to have gotten an answer out of you. “And you met up with them again today. Is that right?” he queried, nodding toward the folder.

You got the hint and pulled the first picture off the pile, revealing another underneath it. It was a selfie taken by two women. You spotted yourself in the right corner by the bar, in conversation with the three men he was referring to. His gaze stayed focused on you, trying to see if you’d reveal any emotion.

“It was our college reunion. As you can see I wasn’t the only one there,” you explained.

“Multiple witnesses have told us you were the last person seen talking to them.”

You shrugged. “Is that something significant?”

“Not necessarily so,” he answered, sitting up straighter. “What is, is that you left through the emergency exit. And what makes it even more suspicious is that you left right after the victims got their drinks served.”

You gave him a blank look.

“The victims were poisoned.”

Ah.

You offered him a tight smile. “I think that’s something you need to bother the bartender about.”

“We checked him out already. The only person we can connect to this case is you.”

A silence followed. It truly didn’t seem like you’d be leaving anytime soon. You rubbed your hands down on the material of your dress, gathering courage.

“It’s an unfortunate coincidence. Like I told you, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t want anything to do with them,” you clarified, the disdain evident on your tongue.

The agent turned his head around, looking at the two-way mirror. The thought of other agents standing behind that wall, all analyzing you full of judgement, made your skin crawl. 

“Seems like you’re not too fond of the men.”

You scoffed, “No one is.”

“What about Natalie Fisher?” he wondered aloud. “She seemed close to you. We found multiple pictures dating back to high school.”

Like a gust of wind, the memories came back to you. How you found Natalie standing in front of your college dorm room, smiling brightly as she introduced herself as your roommate. You instantly hit it off: sharing the same humor, the same passions. Only a year younger than you, but a carbon copy. From that day on you were inseparable. 

It all came back to that one night — that one time you bailed on her, deciding studying for an upcoming exam was more important than joining her at a frat party. It was only when she called you awake in the middle of the night, her voice shaking as her words tripped over her tongue, telling you she didn’t know where she was and how she woke up in an empty alley, possibly drugged and with her clothes torn — that you knew you made the biggest mistake in your life.

You shook the thoughts away. Pursing your lips as you shrugged. “She was. I don’t know why you’re bringing her up.”

“Her report says she died two years ago from suicide. Or did you kill her as well?”

It felt like he’d knocked the breath out of you. You made a choking sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “You’re sick,” you spat in disbelief.

“I’m sick?” He chuckled sarcastically. “You’re the one who murdered those people.”

“I didn’t murder anyone!”

The sound of your yelling reverberated off the concrete walls, the echo scaring you. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back tears as you bit your tongue. There goes your attempt at staying calm. He was playing games with your mind. You knew this was all a trick — a way to get you to admit to the crimes he was naming. And it drove you crazy that it was having an effect.

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you muttered.

-`♡´-

Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as he looked through the glass. You’d been sitting there for three hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-six seconds, counting. He didn’t know what it was about you that made it impossible to look away. Hotch had told him to go home. Hotch was certain that they got the right unsub, and he assured him that you’d confess at some point. But he couldn’t get himself to move. To turn his head even. All he felt was a nagging guilt as he watched you being questioned by Morgan. It was a different experience to see an interrogation when he’s been in one himself. He now understood what it was like. How pressuring their questions can be, how the weight of a sentence is crushed on your shoulders, and how they keep pushing you to the point where you even start doubting your own truth. 

All he could think of when he saw you was innocence. A soft, radiant white light surrounded you. You were bright even against the harshness of the room. There was no rational way to explain how he felt, only that he sensed the deepest desire to keep you safe from everything that could hurt you.

“She’s working on my nerves,” Morgan exclaimed, tension visible in his shoulders as he stomped out of the interrogation room. 

“We can’t stop,” Hotch stated. “We haven’t gotten an answer out of her yet.”

Morgan let out a deep huff. “It’s clear that she did it.”

Spencer's focus was back on you. Since he’s been to prison he’s been more aligned with his feelings. His heart overpowering his mind at times. 

“She’s not our unsub,” Spencer spoke up, surprising even himself with the firmness of his voice.

Everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting for the genius revelation he always had. But the room stayed silent.

Hotch eyed him, “What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” Spencer replied, not caring to elaborate further. He nudged Derek aside and headed for the door. “I’ll take it from here.”

He pulled the heavy metal door open, at once met with your doe eyes as you faced him. For the first time tonight, you didn’t flinch when someone entered. 

Spencer had to swallow. His gaze momentarily dropped to the floor, feeling overwhelmed by how beautiful you looked up close. You seemed tired, cold, yet somehow angelic.

His eyes never left yours as he made his way over to you. You held his gaze, observing him with the same intensity as he was. He carried a calm, magnetic presence, which made you feel an unexplainable urge to get closer to him.

“Are you cold?” he eventually asked, his voice gentle and considerate.

You blinked at his question, clearly not expecting it. You remembered how you were only wearing a light dress, noticing the goosebumps that had formed on your bare legs. Inevitably, you nodded.

He surprised you again by taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders. The fabric felt heavy, enveloping you like a warm blanket.

“Thank you,” you silently mumbled, noticing a small dimple appear in his cheek.

He sat down in front of you, resting his arms on the table between you, as though compelled to get as close as possible. The moment felt intimate, your eyes locked on his tender brown ones, making the world fade around you. “I believe you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, a frown formed on your face as you realized he wasn’t about to say more. “What?”

“I believe you,” he repeated in the same composed manner. He leaned forward even further, and it was then that you noticed you had subconsciously mirrored his movement, drawn to him like a magnetic pull. 

“They suspect you, but I don’t.”

He didn’t need to rephrase his words for you to understand who he meant by them. You could almost feel the other agents’ glaring stares pressing down on you through the glass.

“Try to forget about them,” he reminded you, as if reading your thoughts. You didn’t look up to face him, instead your focus was on the proximity of your hands on the table, his finger just inches away from touching yours. Spencer noticed the look in your eyes, and moved his little finger just enough to brush against yours.

An electric shock coursed through you. Simultaneously, both of you shuddered, stunned as you saw the other wearing the same stupefied expression. Sure, it could’ve been a static shock, but something told you it was more than that. And by the look of the curly haired agent, he felt the same.

“Why don’t you?” you asked, returning to the subject. “Suspect me, I mean.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “Because I know what it’s like to be in a situation like you are.” He saw the confusion written on your face, continuing his explanation. “There’s something about being in a room like this — being treated like you’re guilty before you even speak — that makes you start questioning your own truth.” 

Questions flooded your mind, but you chose not to press further. You had someone who believed you, you weren’t going to ruin that opportunity by being too curious.

“So, what now?” your voice sounded more sure, hopeful even.

“Usually, we ask people if they’re willing to take a polygraph exam,” he explained. “It can also be referred to as a lie detector test, even though that term is often used incorrectly. A professional will ask a series of questions, and as you answer, the device will measure multiple psychological indicators which are associated with lying, like your blood pressure and pulse. I know it can sound scary, but in cases like these — when there’s no clear evidence — it might be the only thing keeping you from going to prison.”

His words hit you hard, though the gleam in his eyes remained soft. You inhaled deeply before nodding. “I’ll do it.”

-`♡´-

“She’s telling the truth.”

You hadn’t known pure relief until now. Your eyes closed, trying to stop the flood of emotions from flowing in when the pressure cuffs and sensors were being removed from your arms and hands. You didn’t know whether to cry or to cheer, but when you opened your eyes and saw Spencer — who had introduced himself as Dr. Reid, smiling at you, you were sure everything would turn out okay.

“Impossible,” the agent who questioned you earlier huffed under his breath.

The chief who had introduced himself as Aaron Hotchner walked up to you. “For now you’re free to go. However, this case isn’t closed yet. You’ll remain our primary suspect until we find more proof.”

The sharpness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. You kept quiet as he and the other agents left the room, leaving you alone with Dr. Reid.

He closed the distance between you two, standing near enough that he could see all the details on your face. He fought the urge to tuck the loose strings of hair behind your ear, to hold you and tell you that you were okay.

“You did really well,” he said with a soft smile. “Your heartbeat stayed on an average of 70 beats per minute, only going up to 86 once, which is still in the normal range.”

“Did you peek at the monitor?” you jokingly teased.

“I- uh, no. I just counted.” Spencer shyly admitted, earning a playful grin from you. You took his hand in yours, his palm slightly sweaty, as if he was nervous about the outcome too. Then you placed his hand on your chest, right where your heart was. “What about now? Higher than average?”

He swallowed, a blush creeping up his neck. “95 beats per minute.”

The tension between you was palpable, though his touch felt comforting. Your hand was placed over his, and you could both feel the way your heartbeat steadily decreased as you brushed your fingers soothingly over his.

“Can I drive you home?” Spencer offered.

You bit your lip in an effort to hide your grin, but then the corners of your mouth slightly dropped. “I don’t really have a place to stay.”

His brows lifted in surprise, but an empathetic twinkle appeared in his bambi eyes. “You could stay at my place.”

Spencer wasn’t sure why the words came out, but he meant them. He could practically hear the voices of his team telling him to not get involved with someone on a case, let alone a potential suspect. But it wasn’t like he was the first person to do so. And he wouldn’t waste the opportunity of getting closer to you. Maybe if he could get to know you better, if he could make you comfortable enough to open up to him, he could prove to everyone that you were innocent. Because deep down, he knew you were.

-`♡´-

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing, man?” Morgan called out, rushing after Spencer, who had just entered the bullpen to grab his satchel bag before heading out with you.

“Hotch told me I could go home,” he hastily replied, stuffing his papers into his bag.

“Yeah, two hours ago. Before you decided to flirt with a suspect,” he exclaimed in frustration.

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Spencer recounted under his breath.

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “Everyone saw what went on in that room, Reid,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I would’ve least expected this from someone like you.”

“Someone like me doesn’t exist anymore, Derek,” Spencer snapped, a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m not who I was before prison, and neither will I ever be that person again. However, I can help her from turning into someone like me. So, if you don’t mind, I am leaving now.” 

He left Morgan at a loss of words as he walked off. You were waiting on him; your posture stiffened as you wrapped his jacket closer around you. Gently, Spencer threaded his fingers through yours and guided you to the elevator.

Once inside, Spencer pressed the button to the ground floor, then leaned his head back to the wall, letting out a fatigued sigh.

“I am sorry for causing you trouble,” you apologized, nervously picking at the fabric of his jacket that hung loosely over your arms.

His gaze softened, and he shook his head before he reached out to hold your hand once more. It was ironic how he longed for your grounding touch. “You’re not causing me any trouble. I’m sorry for the way they’re treating you. It’s our job to be cautious, to not easily trust someone.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you trust me,” you stated, though it came out more as a question, waiting for confirmation.

His other hand lifted up to touch your cheek, and his heart warmed at how you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I do.”

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Can you prove it to me?”

He responded with a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup your face in his large palms. You rose to your tiptoes, leaning in until his sweet lips found yours.

-`♡´-

Spencer had expected to spend the ride home talking to you. Instead, you spent the entire ride trying to resist the urge to climb on top of each other. Once he tasted your lips, he couldn’t get enough, and neither could you.

Your giggle sounded through the dimly lit halls of his apartment complex as he dragged you up the stairs. 

“Hurry,” you impatiently chuckled as he struggled to find his keys in his bag. He joined your giddy laughter as you entered the apartment. The second he shut the door close, he gently pressed you against the wall, his lips finding yours again. You let out a satisfied hum, your fingers sliding into the soft curls of his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your bottom lip.

“Wait—one second,” he murmured.

“No,” you pouted, capturing his lips. 

He kissed you back—then again, and again—before finally pulling away. “I just need to put my gun away.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Just make it quick.”

He gave you a big grin and walked to the cupboard, where his safe was hidden behind his jackets and a row of spare shoes. It felt strange to have someone in his apartment. Strange to be smiling so brightly, to feel so much, after the emptiness prison has brought him. But strange didn’t mean bad. It felt new. And new could be good. You could be good.

His fingers pressed down on the familiar buttons: 62383. With a soft click, the lock opened; he took his gun from its holster on his pants and safely put it away.

When he turned back, he saw you leaning against the wall, a sweet expression on your face as you awaited him. He strode toward you, immediately pulling you in and kissing you fiercely.

Spencer was aware of his actions. Aware that he shouldn’t be doing what he was about to do with you. But as his hand made contact with the warm skin of your inner thighs, and as your sweet sounds filled the air, he chose to simply not care.

-`♡´-

The next morning you woke up with messy curls tingling against your face. You chuckled as Spencer lay asleep with his head resting on your chest. Your fingers ached with the urge to graze them through his hair, to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. Instead, you held your breath as you climbed from underneath him.

The golden sun shone brightly through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings. You tiptoed through the room, gathering the items of clothes one by one, until you were fully dressed. 

Wearing yesterday’s dress sent a shiver through your body, being reminded of the long hours spent in that bleak interrogation room. 

You mumbled a sorry, before opening his closet and fishing a T-shirt out of it, a blue one with a faded Caltech logo, barely visible. You ignored the thoughts forming in your head, the itch to want to know more about the man who was still sleeping soundlessly in the bed that you shared. 

Once you found yourself a suitable pair of pants, Spencer started groaning from the other side of the room. You turned around, catching his hand patting down the empty space beside him, as if in search of the heat of your body. It felt irresistible to not check up on him. You slowly made your way to his side of the bed, crouching down and lightly stroking his face. His eyes blinked open, and the way he smiled made your heart churn. 

“I need to go,” you softly whispered to him.

His smile faltered. “Where to?” He sat up straighter on the bed, but you gently pushed him back down.

“Will I see you again?” Spencer asked when you didn’t respond.

Your lips curled in a smile, “I’m sure you will.”

And sure you were, because as soon as you left the bedroom, you were headed to the cupboard, pushing aside the jackets that hung on the hooks, until your eyes landed on the shining steel safe. 

62383.

The lock sprung open, and in a swift motion you took the gun and hid it in the bottom of your purse. I will be seeing you again, Spencer. Just under different circumstances.

[heeikeuu]

In Your Embrace Is My Solitude

» how lads men comfort you during a panic attack

» pairing – lads x fem!reader

» genre – fluff, comfort, romance

» warnings – blood, panic attacks, teeny tiny angst, violence (please let me know if I missed anything)

note: my first official lads fic! Sorry for any typos in advance, enjoy!

ZAYNE:

Returning from a rough mission, you were badly injured and needed to attend to your wounds immediately. However you couldn't stop thinking about how you childishly fought with your fiance this morning because he kept telling you to not go alone on this mission but you argued back that you weren't a little girl and could handle yourself. But those words came to bite you right in the ass as you returned home at 1:30am covered in blood. It was hard to tell if it was mostly your blood or the wanderers. You weakly made your way to the hallway. You were nervous to face Zayne because you didn't want to burden your already tired and hard-working fiance, knowing he already does so much for you. What you didn't know is that he was sitting in the living room, worried sick, waiting for you. Your body froze seeing him. He looked at you and felt his heart drop. He instantly made his way to you, "What happened? Darling, are you alright? Why are you covered in blood?" His questions were rushing, but you could barely hear him anymore. Your anxiety spiked up further as you buried your face in his warmth. Zayne wasn't sure if he should hold you or not because he didn't want to make your injuries worse, but then he heard faint sobs and "I'm sorrys." Leave your lips. His heart ached, but he held back his tongue from scolding you. Instead, he gently inspected your body and held you. Your knees felt weak, and so did your entire body. Before you could collapse, Zayne carried you to the bedroom to care for your wounds and clean you up. Your body was still shaking as he wiped off the blood. Though Zayne wasn't a man of many words, he gently held your hand, "Next time, I'll be more careful, I'm sorry." You told him sincerely, "there is no need to apologize, darling. There will be no next time, I won't let you get hurt like this ever again."

SYLUS:

The night was very lively. You would argue too lively as the air felt stuffy. You had agreed to attend a charity event with your lover. However, you underestimated just how well known he would be during this event. You felt very uneasy, like eyes were on you almost as if they were trying to cut through the depths of your soul. Feeling your ears ringing as you were spacing out without realize. Suddenly, you felt a warm hand hold your own which was clamy, looking up you notice it was Sylus, he looked at you knowingly with a soft gaze and squeezed your hand twice, asking you if you're okay. You didn't want to ruin the night, so you simply nodded and flashed the best fake smile you could muster up, but he wasn't convinced. Pulling you towards his chest, he whispers to you, "Honey, if you're not feeling, we can always go home. There is no pressure to stay here, and I'm not going anywhere." His words eased your heart, making you calm down a bit more. Looking up at him, you no longer wanted to protest. Scared to use your voice, you just nodded again. He gently yet with a firm grip took your hand again and led you to his car to go home. His job was done for the night, and his wife was his top priority no matter what.

CALEB:

Waking up from a nightmare, you felt your sweaty body shake as you were trying to process that it wasn't real. Your hand instinctively reached out to your right side, expecting to feel your boyfriend next to you. However, you don't. You felt your anxiety spike up even more. You hadn't even bothered to check your phone or the time. You quickly got up from your shared bed and went to look for Caleb. You looked everywhere and couldn't find him. Tears flooded your vision further, scared that something happened to him like it did in your nightmare. What if he got into a fight with wanderers like the ones in you saw, you started pacing, heart pounding, hyperventilating now with tears streaming down your face because you remember the last thing you said to your boyfriend was that you couldn't promise to live a 100 years with him. After 2 minutes passed, you didn't seem to notice the soft click of the apartment door opening and closing, caleb came into view. Shocked at your state. Without hesitation, he immediately set down the groceries he got to make breakfast for you on the ground and ran up to check on you. Your body froze once you saw him and immediately ran into his arms. He held you protectively, "shhhh, I'm here, angel. Look at me, yeah?" He spoke ever so gently as he held your face in his hands. Looking at him, through your blurred vision, you see him kiss your tears away, his warmth a sharp contrast to how cold your body felt. "Do you want a distraction or a hug, angel?" He asked carefully, "a hug," you whispered. He held you until you calmed down and soon made you both breakfast to eat as it was 6am.

XAVIER:

You didn't mean to, but you had been spacing out too often today. You felt uneasy and kept trying to distract yourself however you could. You and Xavier were cuddling on the couch, watching old films together, but as Xavier was talking to you and explaining the movie's plot, you kept absentmindedly nodding. He eventually caught on and grabbed your chin, making you face him. "What's wrong, starlight? You've been out of it since this morning," He asked sweetly while carefully observing your body language. He noticed. He saw the way your eyes got ever so glossy, how your hands were sweaty, your fast heartbeat, and how you tried to discreetly stop your legs from shaking. You tried to speak but kept stuttering, "deep breaths, slowly." He talked you through it while holding your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other, bringing impossibly closer to him. You had trouble controlling your mind and often had panic attacks due to your intrusive thoughts. They always came unexpectedly and you couldn't stop them. You had been suppressing your feelings since this morning, but you ended up breaking down in front of your boyfriend. Tears were streaming down your face, "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today," you voice muffled as he brought you to his chest, softly petting your hair and rocking back and forth with you in his arms. "It's okay, starlight. I'm not mad, I won't go anywhere, and yes I made sure to turn off the stove earlier" he joked at the last part making you giggle softly at his attempt to make you smile. You stayed like that for a while, feeling whole and safe in his arms.

RAFAYEL:

You were out with your friends having a great time after not seeing them for a long time, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of someone's piercing gaze on you. You brushed it off a few times. It's probably nothing, you thought to yourself as you excused yourself to the bathroom to wash up. Your heels clicking, but you were on high alert of your surroundings. Too high that you got lost in your mind, "going somewhere, miss?" An eerie voice spoke, flinching slightly. You look up and notice a strange man looking at you like you were deer caught in his trap. His smile got wider as he stepped closer to you. Shit what do I do, I don't have my weapons on me, you notice he had a knife, trapped between his large body, you felt your body and mind panic, you felt the cold dagger pressed closer to your pulse point drawing some blood in its awake. You tried to rack your brain on how to escape this situation swiftly, "You tell that lousy boyfriend of yours to not meddle in my business," the man threatened with a crazy look in his eyes. Rafayel? As if on que, your thoughts came to a halt as you heard his voice, the next few seconds were all a blur as you saw the man being pinned against the hallway walls with a deadly grip, "touching a woman without permission is a lousy move," Rafayel's voice said mockingly, "but touching my woman without her permission is a death wish." He spoke as the man cried in fear apologizing again and again. Rafayel wasn't having any of it. He threw the man onto the ground roughly before his gaze softened as he turned to look at you. Holding you in his arms, "shhh, it's okay, cutie, I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you, yeah?" His tone ever so sweet and soft. Your shaking body slowly calmed down afterward. Part of you knew that if you weren't here right now, that man would've been killed off in cold blood, yet you weren't scared of Rafayel. You knew he could never hurt you or let anyone hurt you.

Special tag; @imaluvsj7

© heeikeuu | likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Where Do You End Pt. 1

Main Masterlist

Read on A03! - Pt. 2

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, light angst, body swap, mentions of smut, humor, horniness, very weird

Summary/Warnings: You and Dean have found yourself in a body swap situation, but your bodies don't seem to be aware of that. They keep trying to do what they always do.

And what they always do isn't really something either of you what the other to know about.

Author's Note: Request from an anon! On god I made it as weird as it could get. I'm proud of me. Also, we're once again looking at multiple parts. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.5k

This was fucking weird. 

Dean knew wasn’t exactly worth saying—it might be the most obvious statement in history—but this was so fucking weird. Weird in a way that made his brain feel a little fuzzy, that made his skin itch because there was no way this was real.

But there was certainly a way this was real.

And it wasn’t Dean’s skin that was itchy. 

She had nice skin. It was soft and comfortable to be inside of, the callouses on Her hands felt better placed than the ones on Dean’s, and there were scars that he’d sometimes touch on accident that felt more like art than stains. Her hair felt right whenever he’d brush his fingers through it. Her waist was perfect to hold whenever he’d brace his hands on his hips. And when Dean would reach up to rub his jaw, he’d be slammed with another reminder that this wasn’t his jaw. It was too smooth, at a different angle, and far too good.

This was the jaw he’d dreamt of holding and angling back. Of kissing a soft line across, sucking a small, dark mark on, or nipping at until everyone could see that Dean had been here. That his hand had wrapped around Her neck because she trusted him there, and he’d been holding Her chin up so She could look him in the eyes as they grinned at each other.

She had the prettiest smile. Her lips would curve up at the perfect angle, her eyes would shine like small stars, and every little line on Her face would serve as evidence that She was happy.

Dean hadn’t seen Her smile in a while. Not at him. Not like She used to. 

And he certainly wouldn’t see it now. He couldn’t.

All he could see was himself, across the room, rolling on the balls of his feet and sucking on his teeth as he thought.

As She thought.

This was so weird.

“I don’t like this.” She muttered, and Dean frowned. His voice sounded rougher, deeper, and heavier from outside. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, or how to interpret the small shivers up his spine and over his skin. 

“C’mon,” Dean said Her name, in her sweet and musical voice, and he liked how it sounded. He’d always loved how She said her own name, like it was an answer to something or the only lesson Dean would ever need to learn. “Is it really that bad to be stuck in my body-“

“Yes.” She snapped, raising Her chin and glaring down at him, and now his heart was beating faster. “This feels weird, and I don’t like seeing you be me. You’re doing it wrong.”

Dean frowned, and Her hair fell over his eyes. “How the hell am I doing it-“

“You’re sitting wrong. Your legs are too wide, I don’t lean like that, and when I frown it’d not supposed to look like I’m trying to murder someone.”

Dean disagreed with that last one. Shit, for months the only expression he’d gotten from Her was a frown that told him She wanted him dead. 

He didn’t blame Her. He wasn’t all too happy with himself either, but it had been the only option. She wanted him. She said She wanted him, and she hadn’t been lying, and that had been the worst thing in the world.

If She hadn’t really wanted him, Dean could’ve offered himself in all his broken, foul glory and She would’ve walked away all by herself. Dean never would’ve needed to worry about losing Her, because he wouldn’t have had Her to begin with. But She’d said Dean Winchester, I want you, and he’d fucking believed Her. He never believed people when they said that. 

And him believing Her meant Dean could lose Her. Could truly let Her down and get her hurt. 

So he’d said no. He’d lied with practiced ease—through his teeth and with a flat expression—and told Her he didn’t see her like that. That She was his best friend, and he’d just never felt that for Her.

She nodded, and backed off. Smiling less and frowning more and still joking with him but never bumping their feet together under a table or leaning Her head on his shoulder. 

It was what he’d wanted. She was safer, and still within Dean’s reach to just see Her, to know she was okay. But he’d never expected to touch Her again. He’d made his peace with the fact that She’d always be just a stretch away, but never his to hold.

And now he could only hold Her. Only rub Her thighs when he was thinking, only touch her face when he tried to brush Her hair away, only feel Her everywhere, every second, until he drove himself mad.

He didn’t know if he wanted to thank the witch that had done this, or kill them again.

Right now he was leaning towards the later, if only because he really didn’t like seeing Her in his body. It wasn’t just weird. It was wrong.

“You’re not exactly acting like me either, sweetheart.” Dean raised his brows, and watched his own face drop into a further glower. “You’re standing too much like a girl.”

She scoffed. “What the fuck does that even mean-“

“You’re too relaxed-“

“Relaxed?”

“Yeah.” He tried to raise his chin, but Her hair fell in his face again. He didn’t know how the hell he was suppose to do anything when he had to keep it out of his face. “And you gotta walk slower. We’re not in a rush-“

“I’m in a rush! I told you, Dean, I don’t like this-“

“I’m not a big fan either!” He snapped. “But what the hell are we suppose to do about it? Every time we’ve tried to tell Sammy he hasn’t heard us-“

She rolled Her eyes. And they were Dean’s eyes, but that was Her eye roll. “That’s the curse, dumbass. We have to break it-“

“I got that, sweetheart, but I’m not seeing how you plan to do that without help-“

“I have you, Dean.” Her voice—his voice—was louder. Firmer. Commanding. It made his gut warm, and his body—Her body—sit a little taller of his own accord. “You’re on research duty, buddy. Let’s go.”

Dean scowled. He hated it when She called him buddy. He wasn’t Her buddy, he was supposed to be Her-

Nothing. Dean was Her nothing, because he’d been so very careful to make and keep it that way.

And that knowledge never stopped him from wanting Her. Wanting Her so bad that, when he’d glance down at her hands, now in his control, he couldn’t stop wondering if he’d ever get to feel them like this again. Rubbing against skin and tracing over the curve of his lips and trailing nails on his legs.

It didn’t really count. That wasn’t Dean’s body that he was feeling. But the touch felt real, and he didn’t really want to let it go yet, not if this was the closest to holding Her he’d ever get. Just a small, torturous reparation for his sacrifice of never really having her, where he got to memorize Her body and keep it in his head forever.

“C’mon,” Dean said Her name, because he wanted a little more time. A longer chance to exist in this purgatory, because he’d never get the chance to fully enter heaven. “You don’t need my help-“

“Yes, I do.” She snapped, grabbing Her jacket from the bed and marching to the door. “Get up. We’re going.”

Dean didn’t want to get up, but Her body didn’t seem to agree with him. He pushed off the bed and gained an unsteady balance, because Her knees were oddly weak. She wasn’t weak—She hunted like an animal and had used this very body to knock Dean flat on his ass—but something was making him lightheaded and dizzy. 

He was probably just hungry. They hadn’t eaten since the curse hit. 

“If we’re doing this,” he grumbled, shuffling to put on Her shoes. “We’re doing it with food.”

“Deal.” She tried to shrug on Her jacket, froze when it didn’t fit around Dean’s body, and chucked it right at his face. “Wear that. I don’t want you getting me a cold.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but put on the jacket. She was already pissed, and this wasn’t worth fighting about.

“This is so weird,” She mumbled, shaking Dean’s head. “C’mon, Winchester, we’re fixing this-“

“Wait,” Dean frowned, patting his pockets—Her pockets—and scanning around the motel room. “Where are my keys-“

“You mean these keys?”

He turned to see Her holding up the Impala’s keys, a shit-eating grin on Her face. 

Dean narrowed his eyes, holding out his hand. “Gimme my keys.”

“No.” She shrugged, Her grin growing. “I think I’m good.”

“I’m not asking, sweetheart-“

“Okay. You take them, they’re yours.”

She walked out of the motel room, and Dean’s eyes widened. There was no fucking way She was driving his car.

“They are mine!” He shouted, sprinting after Her. “Just cause you’re in my damn body-“

Her body was faster than Dean was used to. He almost slammed right into Her back—His back—and an undignified sound left his when Her arms wrapped around his waist, catching him from a fall and holding him right to Her chest.

He’d never realized he was that broad. Or that strong. She was holding Dean like he was paper, and looking at him with shining eyes—he could see the real Her almost glowing in his body—and grinning with Her whole face. Dean’s whole face, with crinkles near his eyes he hadn’t known he had, and stubble on his jaw he’d meant to shave today.

Her hands were rubbing his waist. It was the small, careful circles he always dreamt of leaving on Her hips and arms. 

He wasn’t sure She knew she was doing it.

“Uh,” Dean cleared his throat, because She needed to let go now. Her touch was burning on his body, and they hadn’t really touched since the curse hit, so maybe they weren’t allowed to. “Keys.”

She shook Her head. “This is my one chance to drive, Dean-“

“It’s my freakin’ car-“

“And I’m you.” She raised Her brows, still holding him, and the fiery feeling got worse. “I’m driving.”

He should’ve fought more. But Her hand squeezed him lightly, and his whole body grew molten. 

She needed to let go of him now. 

He tried to grunt Her name, but it just came out breathy and soft. “You crash it-“

“I pay for the repairs.”

Dean scowled, but gave in. Right now She was stronger and taller than he was, and Dean didn’t really want to lose any dignity trying to physically take the keys. 

And She didn’t crash it. Dean watched Her drive with careful attention—grumbling about what She was doing wrong until She shot him the deadliest glare he’d ever seen—and She never even came close to crashing. Her hands were big and firm and broad on Baby’s wheel, and Her arms would flex when she shifted the wheel, and there was a set look of determination on Her face that made her jaw look shaper-

That was not Her jaw. That was his jaw. And his arms, and his hands, and he wasn’t sure why the hell his eyes had been wandering over himself like that. He didn’t know why the hell he could feel his heartbeat in his throat and stomach. 

He wasn’t in full control. When they parked, his body didn’t want to move until She helped him out of his seat, and Dean didn’t miss the look of confusion on Her face, like she wasn’t entirely certain why She’d done that. It was the same expression she had when She guided him inside, or when She opened the door for him.

Those were things Dean always did for Her. He wasn’t used to a hand on his back, or how nice it felt there. Secure, like a tether that told him he’d be alright. He didn’t understand why his body leaned closer to Her’s as they walked, or why his stomach kept doing little flips when Her eyes would fall from scanning over the diner and land on his.

He felt so unbelievably safe and calm. Hell, he’d never felt like this. Like the sky could fall and it would be fine, because the body across from his in the booth would catch it. 

This was a really weird curse.

“You’re going to take notes,” She said, pushing a stack of books across the table that She must have pulled out of her ass. “I’ll look for something online.”

Dean frowned, shaking his head. The fucking hair was in his face again. “Why do I have to do the notes-“

“Because I have better handwriting, and you have my hands.” She handed him a notebook and pencil, and their fingers brushed, sending small sparks of electricity through Dean’s blood. “Tell me if you find something.”

“Nah, sweetheart. I think I’ll have some pie and do the online research-”

Dean had started to push everything back across the table, but he froze at the glare on Her face. It was downright domineering, and did weird things to his brain. He felt fuzzy. 

“You’re doing notes.” She grunted, and Dean definitely felt at least a little dizzy. “That’s it.”

His voice was high and almost bratty in his own ears. He didn’t like it. “But-“

“Don’t test me, Winchester. I swear to god I’ll eat a salad.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll take you for a run.”

Dean tensed. “You wouldn’t fuckin’ dare-“

“You wanna bet?”

She’d won the argument again. Those were the arguments Dean was supposed to win. He was supposed to be able to talk his way out of anything with Her. To smirk and wink and tease Her until she broke rank from Sam’s side, and Dean didn’t have to do the stupid parts of the cases anymore. He hadn’t taken notes in years. He hated taking notes, and he wanted to keep pushing until order was restored and She was doing the notes—she usually loved doing the notes—but Her body had other ideas.

His mouth couldn’t figure out how to open and snap at Her. His body was molded and frozen into the seat whenever She’d look at him, and something kept humming in his chest whenever She’d talk. He was taking notes because he couldn’t remember how not to—how to grab the laptop or point at Her with a stern finger—and Dean’s was writing fast and neat, and his hand wasn’t cramping.

His foot kept aching to inch forward and press on Her calf. His fingers kept wanting to reach out and trace Her jaw. Dean wanted to sit on Her lap—he could never say that one aloud—because his body seemed to think it would be comfortable. 

This curse was insane. He didn’t need to try and act like Her anymore, because his body—Her body—still seemed to remember how She was supposed to move. He found his hands spinning the pen between Her fingers like he’d seen her do a million times. His legs were crossed on the booth instead of spread under the table. He ordered a burger, but he couldn’t eat it. It was too greasy and heavy, and he already felt a little sick from just one bite. 

She’d ordered chicken nuggets, and put Her usual disgusting amount of ketchup on the plate, but barely touched them.

They smelled really good. Dean was starving, his mouth watering as he couldn’t stop staring at them—or Her, in his body, but he didn’t really want to dwell on that—and when She glanced up at him, Her eyes flicked to the burger in front of him.

They traded plates without a word. And Dean had never seen himself eat before, but he finally understood why Sam was always so annoyed with him. She inhaled that thing, chewing loudly and wiping Her mouth with the back of her hand, licking her fingers clean and making disgusting smacking sounds-

The sounds should’ve been disgusting. Instead they settled in Dean’s gut, lighting a small fire he didn’t know how to stop feeding. He couldn’t figure out how to not stare at Her, arms braced on the table and brow furrowed as she read something on the laptop screen. 

He had to excuse himself to go get more drinks. 

“One beer.” He muttered, then immediately cringed. Beer sounded foul to his mouth. “Actually, make it a milkshake.”

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Some poor chick at the bar war probably getting hit on. The lady behind the counter seemed motherly. She’d handle it if it got out of hand, and Dean had bigger problems to deal with anyway. Problems like how if he didn’t have a milkshake right now, he might actually die.

“What flavor, sweetheart?” The server asked, and Dean frowned. Being called sweetheart was weird.

He responded with Her usual order—hopefully that would satisfy his unwelcome craving—and someone off the side cleared the throat.

“You gonna answer me?”

A hand landed on Dean’s arm, and he flinched. It felt clammy and wrong on his body. Like a weight that settled into his bones and sent a creeping, itchy feeling over his skin.

He turned to see a fairly tall, well-built man grinning at him with an almost predatory smile. It made his body go rigid, almost shrinking in on itself.

“Are you, uh,” he frowned. “You talking to me?”

The man laughed. It was too loud, with not warmth, and echoed like a gunshot in his skull. “Course I am, sweetheart. I don’t see any other pretty girls ‘round.”

Oh.

Dean was the poor chick being hit on. 

And he hated it. His body hated it. Not only was this man’s touch wrong, his voice was wrong. It slithered over Dean’s gut and chest, making everything in him recoiled and balk, because that was not how he was supposed to be called sweetheart. 

“I, um,” he glanced back to the booth, frowning when he realized She was gone. “Listen, dude, I’m not-“

“Dude?” The man laughed. “We can do better than that, baby-“

Dean might have visibly recoiled. He hated baby, only one voice felt like it was supposed to call him baby, even if it never had-

He didn’t know what was happening, or why he was having such a visceral reaction to something that should’ve been passive and boring. Dean knew She got hit on all the time, because she was a fucking knockout, and his usual reaction to it was a possessive anger he had no right to feel. Not disgust, or a weird desire to retreat and hide-

“What’s going on?”

That was Dean’s own voice. And there was a large presence behind him that felt reliable. That his body wanted to lean back into.

When Dean turned, She was right there with narrowed eyes. 

He didn’t love how he immediately felt better, and softer, and a little light-headed.

“Hey, man, you gotta wait your turn-“

“My turn?” She snorted. “Walk away from hi- her, buddy, or I’ll kick your ass. I can do that now.”

She puffed Her chest, and—as soon as his brain remembered how to not be static warmth—Dean would have to talk to Her about not abusing his body for unapproved bar fights.

The man scoffed. “Bro, there ain’t no way this is your girl-“

“She is.” Her voice was dry, her face flat. “In more ways than you can imagine. Go.”

Dean was starting to like this curse less. To start, he didn’t appreciate the speed at which the idea of Her being his girl had been dismissed. He also wasn’t a huge fan of how She’d called him his girl, and he’d liked it. She’d been talking about how Dean was in Her body, and she probably didn’t want a random creep trying to get in her pants. 

Dean’s body—Her body—loved the sound of Her agreement in his voice. It made him feel tingly. 

It didn’t help how She was touching him—holding his arms as She glared at the man over his head—and it kicked the feeling from a soft, warm hum to fireworks. Dean wanted Her hand to meld there and never let go. When the man walked away and She started talking, he never wanted Her to shut up.

“You-“ She swallowed, shaking Her head slightly. “Never mind. I found it.”

Dean blinked at Her. “It?”

“How to tell Sam.

“Oh.” He paused, mostly staring at her as the words sank in, and letting out a long breath of relief escape him when they did. “Awesome.”

She raised Her brows. “You’re pro switching back now?”

“I’ve always been pro switching back-“

“You said it wasn’t that urgent.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I changed my mind, sweetheart. What’d you find.”

She gave him an odd look—Dean couldn’t tell if it was hurt, annoyance, or absolute indifference—but continued. “We have to work around the curse.”

“What the hell does-“

“We can’t tell Sam that I’m you and you’re me. Every time we have the call gets dropped, or something loud has drowned us out, Sam’s literally fucking hangs up-“

“I know,” Dean drawled Her name, giving Her a flat look. “I was there for all of that-“

“Shut up. My point is every time we’ve tried to explicitly tell him, he hasn’t heard us. So what if we just don’t?”

Dean frowned at Her. “Your solution is to just freakin’… give up? Like we’re a kiddie soccer team that lost one to many matches, and we’re gonna quit and cry about it?”

“No, Dean. My goal is to not say it, but let Sam figure it out himself.”

“How-“

“Think of something only you and Sam know about. Something you’d never disclose to anyone else.” A wide, broad grin was stretching over Her face. Dean’s face.

He couldn’t keep living like this.

“We’ve got a few of those kinds of secrets, but I’m not-“

“You don’t have to tell me. You have to tell Sam, in my voice. Just like I’m going to say one of our secrets in your voice.”

It was a smart plan, and it would probably work. Sam knew She and Dean were being so annoying and weird about each other, so they wouldn’t be spilling deep, dark secrets anytime soon. Sam would hear them, and he was smart, so he’d figure them out. 

But Dean was mostly stuck on the last part of that sentence.

“You and Sammy have secrets?”

She rolled Her eyes. “We’re friends. Of course we have secrets.”

“About what?”

“It’s not a secret if I tell you.”

She crossed Her arms—Dean’s arms—and he wanted them to wrap around him and keep him warm and safe, maybe choke him a little or carry him around everywhere like he was the only thing She was meant to hold-

Jesus. 

“Whatever.” Dean muttered. He needed to get away from Her now. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

She frowned. “Can you hold it?”

“Yeah, but why the hell would I-“

“I don’t want you peeing in my body.”

Dean snorted. “Are you freakin’ serious-“

“Yes! You’ll have to wipe-“

“I know how to wipe, sweetheart. And you’re gonna need to take me to piss eventually-“

Dean could swear She blushed. He blushed. Goddamnit. 

“I’d hold it.” She snapped, standing a little taller. “You can go back at the motel, where I can go with you.”

“Why would you need to go with me-“

“I don’t want you touching me there, Dean!” Her voice was a low, hushed shout. “It’s- You don’t get to- I’d need to wipe, and make sure you didn’t look!”

“It’s just a pussy,” he said Her name slowly, and She looked like she was going to kill him.

His horrible body—Her body—wanted to either give in or push harder, until She snapped him in half. 

It seemed to like the idea of Her giving him anything at all.

Dean could work with that.

“Dean, I’m fucking serious-“

“So am I! It’s just a body, ” He sneered, and really wished She was taller. It was hard to be firm and authoritative when She was bigger. 

When this was over, he’d probably respect Her a little more. She shouted and him and Sammy all the time without ever flinching.

“Look, I get that this is weird as hell, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

 “You haven’t seen it before. It’s my vagina, Dean, and you don’t get to see it now. Hold your piss.”

Suddenly, it clicked. She cared that Dean would be touching Her. If it was Sam, She wouldn’t give a shit.

But Dean had lost the right to touch Her there when he’d decided he could never hold Her.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. Past Dean had understood that She deserved better, and She shouldn’t have to live Her whole life with a target on Her back. Past Dean had known that She’d find better, and he’d be forgotten in a few years, and it was better for his to have another good thing slip through his fingers rather than hold it and break it. Past Dean just wanted Her to be happy and safe, and She’d never be both as long as She was attached to him.

Past Dean had been an idiot. That son of a bitch hadn’t needed to pee this bad, and he hadn’t spent months with Her just in reach. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something—not an apology, because he’d make that choice in every life to keep Her safe—but before he could, She was moving. Grabbing the hook of Dean’s arm and pulling him out of the diner.

“That’s my body, Dean.” She snapped. “You’re peeing at the motel.”

Dean grumbled an agreement, and didn’t fight all that hard. He had bigger worries. She was pulling him through the parking lot, and he was letting Her. Shit, he was trying to jog a little to keep up with Her, maybe fall into her side. Just fall into Her. She opened the Impala door and he scowled, but let Her help him inside. Her hand touched his lower back again, and it set off fireworks around his ribs and through his intestines.

He felt weirdly warm and gooey, his skin was tingling again, and when he shifted slightly in his seat he could feet something wet between his legs-

Son of a bitch.

She’d been manhandling him, and he was turned on by it. Her body was turned on by it. She wanted to Dean to jump in his own body and climb it like a tree, and Jesus, that ache between his legs was unbearable, and he wanted his own cock inside off him-

They needed to fix this right fucking now. 

End Note: Brace for incoming smut and silliness and angst. Brewing a perfect storm over here.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[screamingforests]

This is a shoot off of the amazing @beloveds-embrace designationless!reader au! All credit for this A/B/O AU goes to her and go give her support!!!

Based on this specific scenario

Cw: Heavy angst, medical torture, inaccurate medical things, very little comfort

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

Maybe it was the way no one noticed you when you walked into the room that made you think you were normal. Maybe it was the way people around you edged away, put off by your lack of scent. The way everyone looked at you with pity.

You didn't want that. Your entire life you had just wanted to fit in. You wanted to be someone that someone else loved.

Maybe it was your family that was the root of the problem, the ones who separated you from your siblings who were all normal. The family that never let you into their mest, claiming your lack of scent, would destroy the atmosphere. That family ignored you, never responding to you. The ones who left to grasping for a relationship, only to realize you would never have one because you were less.

"I've noticed the way people edge away from me, the way they stare! I'm not normal, and this is my chance!" Desperation edged in your voice. "I just- it would be easier this way!"

Johnny chewed on his lip, "easier for who? We all accept you for you, lad."

"This procedure, it's downright inhumane," Simon adds, his brows furrowed as he looked at you, as if truly seeing /you/ for the first time. The scared child you were, wanting to be normal. "It changes you on a base level - I could kill you, dove. It's barely even out of its testing phase."

You sighed. Weren't you allowed to be selfish for once, to want?

"I know," Your voice is quiet but resolute, mind stuck in its decision. "But I want it."

John looks at you. Kyle looks between you and John, eyes full of nervousness. His arms were crossed, looking down his nose at you.

It reminds you so much of the look your dad would give you, the few times he was forced to interact with you.

"No - I won't allow you to get this procedure," John's voice almost rings in your ears. Out of all of them, you thought he might be able to understand.

Of course you were wrong.

You pull away from them, eyes burning. Your mind was made up, it had been since the moment the idea was out into you.

The pack just looks at you with sad eyes, as if understanding the pain you have lived with. As if they could ever understand the feeling of looking into a world, living in it for short amounts of time, but never really belonging.

~

It's weeks later, but you finally have your appointment. You hadn't told anyone about it, you didn't want them to worry.

It had to be fine, right?

~

It hurt, so bad. Pain sang throughout your body, needles sticking out of your skin, and probes stuck with adhesive. You screamed in pain but no one was coming.

You had checked in alone, even told the nurses you didn't want visitors.

No one soothed the pain like Simon did, no one cooed comforts into your ear like Kyle. John and Johnny weren't there to ground you. You were alone, packless.

And only had yourself to blame.

~

It started out small, the loss of sense in your fingers and toes. The doctors assured you it would come back, even if their voice was condescending. Like talking to a child.

(Simon and Kyle would've tag teamed together to massage feeling back into them - They had once, when you feel through ice on a frozen lake.)

You were constantly tired now, something you chalked up to the amount of tests you had been put through the few days you were checked in.

(John would always purr to help you sleep, a commodity you missed. You wished he was here.)

The hunger was easily explained, the staff did forget to bring you food but you didn't want to bother them. They probably forgot because you still had no scent and were easily overlooked. You didn't blame them.

(Johmny would've never forgot, he was always making sure your plate was piled high.)

~

Everything was blurry now, your sight starting to go. Another temporary side effect someone assured you. You couldn't remember whose voice it was.

But it didn't matter, a scent was starting to form. You were going to be normal soon. And even if your body was in constant flight or fight, you were going to fit in.

The way the doctors were seemingly cruel didn't matter. The way the nurses purposefully took more blood to keep you dizzy and compliant was suddenly okay.

You didn't need to know the more your pack pleaded to be with you, the crueler they were. You didn't need to know it was an enemy in disguise, slowly killing you to get back at your pack. The "scent" was just a chemical by-product of your body reacting to all the medications it was being put through.

It would stay, of-course, you might even present with a second gender if it went on long enough.

You didn't need to know so they didn't tell you.

~

Time was getting hard to keep track of. Your sight was nearly gone, and your wounds were slow to heal. Every day was pain. You started to forget why you checked in.

~

It was harder to move now. Your limbs refused to respond to your commands. They were heavy and your mind was too clouded to question it.

Your scent was turning sickly and almost sweet. As if prepping itself for a reactionary heat.

~

The next time you came to, you didn't know what was happening. You could hear shouting and a monotone sound. You felt like you were floating.

That should worry you, you think.

Eletricity rakes your body suddenly, and you're grounded again. Sightless and unable to move. Pain wracking every thought that appears.

You lose yourself to the inky darkness again. Unable to place the fact that you could smell other's scents now.

~

More shouting. These voices were more familiar. It almost sounded like your pack but that couldn't be right, could it?

Hadn't they left you? Or had you left them? You couldn't remember, your mind too slow. You wanted to know, though.

You're able to force a small whine to leave your throat, the first sound besides screaming you had made in what felt like months. There's loud footsteps as someone rushes to your side.

"It's okay, it's okay, we've got you, lad," a familiar voice says. He smells like the ocean and the smoke that comes after an explosion. You like it, it wraps around you like a blanket. "...christ- look at 'em- what've they done to them?"

"We'll figure it out later, for now, its time to go," Another voice says, roughened by what you can assume is years of smoking. He smells like high-quality cigars and soft cedar wood, like the ones surrounding your house when you grew up. "Guns up, we go out blazing."

A new person picks you up, your body immediately curling into him. He smells like petricor and bourbon, tinged with cigarette smoke. He doesn't say another but you decide you like both of the new scents.

A hand smoothes your hair. The last person, he smells like ozone and the forest. You can't describe it, but his voice is low and soothing when he says, "we'll get you home sweets."

And that's the last thing you know before you lose yourself again. Comforted by people you can't remember but you were obviously important to them.

~

It takes months to heal in a normal hospital. Your sight still hasn't fully returned, but glasses help.

So does your pack. While the procedure somewhat worked, your scent came and went. You were more normal than before and even if everything hurt now and you had to do physical therapy, you felt like you belonged.

When you were first admitted, your body had gone through a heat. It presented as an omega, but that was the only instance of it. The staff had you on regular blockers now until your new hormones stabled out. It felt okay, for now.

That didn't change the hurt and all you went through, but it would be okay.

Especially when you were curled up in a temporary nest with your pack in the hospital.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HELLO PEOPLE! I wrote this on my phone in under an hour so I hope everyone enjoys <3

[devotedfem]

«Charlie Y/n and the chocolate factory»

Synopsis: You were broke and lost, but a golden ticket changed your life. You won a trip to Seokjin's candy factory with other 4 contestants. But the tall charming man hid very dark secrets inside his company.

K. Seokjin x f. Reader

5.3K words.

Genre: Charlie and the chocolate factory au | yander-ish.

Tags: inspired by Charlie and the chocolate factory by Tim burton, obsessive behavior, mystery, weird and whimsy Seokjin (just like Wonka from the movie), murder, character death (not reader or Seokjin), hints of cannibalism (nothing explicit), weird things happening in the factory, plot with porn, extremely dubious consent, reader doesn't want Seokjin's attention, captivity, smut, very bad ending for reader, good ending for Seokjin, a tiny bit of angst, so much mystery.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

It was freezing out there, you sighed blowing cold air, rubbing your palms to ease the ugly cold that was getting into your bones. 

The little old house of your grandpa came into view, you rush into it, dying to sit in front of the hearth.

“Grandpa I’m home!” You say kicking your boots away, removing your big scarf and coat.

The temperature of the house wasn’t too different from outside, but at least your sweet grandpa was sitting comfortably in front of the fire, wrapped in many fluffy blankets. Your heart ache at the sight, you didn’t have enough money to install a heater. Your parents died when you were 12, and your grandpa took care of you since then, but he couldn’t do it anymore because of his illness, leaving him unemployed, so since you were 16 you had to work many jobs to support yourself and your grandparent. He was with you at your worst, so you will stay with him at his worst too. You own him a lot.

“Hi there,” you said softly, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Oh! My sweet pea! I didn’t hear ya’ coming, how was work, my child?” He said putting on his cute glasses with his clumsy hands, his eyes looked even more bigger now.

You smiled softly at him.

“ ‘Was pretty good as always. Tell me what did you do today? Read another good book?” You asked trying to divert the conversation, you didn’t want to talk about your shitty job.

It worked, because your grandpa smiled big and sweet, with stars shinning in his eyes.

“Even better, I listened to the radio, and guess what?” He asked like an excited toddler, you couldn’t help the endear smile from breaking on your face.

“What?”

“Seokjin gave a speech on the radio after being gone for 10 years! He will reopen his chocolate factory, but that’s not the best part!”

You frowned a little, that man closed his factory before your parents died. Your grandpa always told you that he met him once, but at this point you don’t know if you should trust your grandpa’s clarity and blurred memory.

“What would be his reason to appear again out of nowhere,” you said more to yourself, wondering about the mysterious man’s intention.

Your grandpa just shrugged at your words.

“Who knows… he has this mysterious and whimsy aura that surrounds him,” he said with admiration in his eyes, making you smile. “Anyway, as I was saying, the best part it’s that he hid five golden tickets inside five candy bars, they may be anywhere, in any shop. The point is, that those lucky five will visit Seokjin’s factory, and one of them will receive a special prize!”

You hummed at his words, imagining finding a golden ticket to give it to your grandpa, fulfilling his dream of visiting Seokjin’s factory, his literally idol.

But the corner of your lips curled down at your thoughts, you shouldn’t fantasize about that stuff, you’re not that lucky, and the probability of finding it is very low. You have to be realistic, you don’t even buy candy.

But… watching your dear grandpa’s eyes shining with hope at the thought of finding a golden ticket squeeze your heart.

You’d do anything in the world to make him happy, that’s why you’re walking towards the shop in the middle of the night, freezing your ass and ready to spend your last 5$ dollars.

The nearest store was full of people, as you expected. There was a queue of 30 people inside, all of them were buying candy bars, some even had shopping carts full of candys to the top. You were impressed, you didn’t know Seokjin’s factory was so adored.

You grabbed only one candy bar because you couldn’t afford to buy more. You felt a pang of sadness when you compared yourself to the others, your chances of getting the golden ticket were very low, and you knew that fact when you chose to test your luck, but the pill was still hard to swallow.

You paid the candy bar, and watched the snow outside of the store, so you stayed there two minutes more, using the heater of the store to warm your body.

But then, curiosity won over you, so you started to open the candy wrapper. You just needed to know, you’ll wrapped the candy again later.

And then your world stopped.

“What the fuck,” you blurt out with your hands trembling, blinking hard to make sure that it wasn’t your mind playing tricks.

It just can’t be true, the possibility, the chances were ridiculously low, but there it was.

A golden ticket. A fucking golden ticket.

“Oh my god you got it! She got it! Please resell it to me! I’ll give you anything, I can give you 3.000$ dollars right now!” A desperate woman grabbed one of your shoulders, with wide eyes fixated on the ticket in your hands.

You inhaled sharp at her words. Your heart beat went wild.

You needed the money, desperately. 3.000$ dollars would help you and your grandpa a lot. You can even raise the price taking advantage of the woman desperation.

But you just couldn’t. This was your grandparent dream, and you know deep down that this big opportunity it’s way more valuable than a few thousands of dollars, so you kept the candy bar and the ticket in your pocket and walked out of the store, almost running and looking back to make sure that no one was following you. You knew that you were extremely lucky by having the ticket, so you won’t take any risk on losing it.

“I got it!” You screamed at the top of your lungs when you got into your home, waking up your grandpa.

That night his eyes shined brighter than the fucking stars, you two were so lucky.

You just hope that everything keeps going this well. You really do.

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There was 6 of you standing in front of Seokjin’s factory, you were the only one who brought company. Your grandpa was as excited as a child eating a candy bar.

The other “participants” were a little bit intimidating, there was a young boy with bunny eyes and bulky body, he looked like a biker. Then there was this one who looked too posh and rich to be here, and right next to him was a blonde and cute boy chewing a gun. And the last man was pale and short, he seemed pretty quiet.

You were the only woman, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You didn’t have any money, any talent or a prestigious name, so you felt a little bit insecure standing there, like a fish out of water.

Big heavy metal doors suddenly open making you startle, revealing a set of mechanical and robotic puppets resembling people, performing a musical. It looked very creepy, and all of you looked at each other with frowns.

“Seokjin! The amazing chocolatier!” They sang in unison with their uncanny faces.

But then the robots malfunction, sparkling and running down of battery.

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

“He was way more dramatic back then. This looks a little bit sluggish for him.” Said your grandpa.

Your attention was brought back to the entrance when a man came out of it.

He was very tall, with wide shoulders, wearing a long red coat and a black hat hiding his gaze. He then took off his hat to smile at you all. Your breath stopped at the sight, he was gorgeous and he looked pretty young too. He seemed to be in his late thirties, you expected him to be older to be honest.

His dark eyes inspected all of you, until his gaze fell upon you, watching you for a long couple of seconds. Recognition flashed his face when he saw your grandparent at your side.

You couldn’t believe that your grandpa really met this guy.

“Hello there, my golden winners.” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Who’s this freak?” Asked the posh guy with a grimace.

“He’s Seokjin!” Said your grandpa excited. All of the other participants turned their attention towards the both of you, like they just had realized that you two exist at all.

“I thought you’d be older, no offense, this factory it’s pretty old.” You speak up for the first time since you entered the factory.

Seokjin’s dark eyes were on you immediately, watching you slowly from head to toe, and smiling to himself.

“I promise you, that my factory isn’t that old little one, neither I am.” He winked at you before returning his attention to the others.

“All right! let’s move on, shall we?” Cheered Seokjin putting his hat on and turning around to walk into the factory.

The others were quick to follow his steps, almost as if they were competing with each other for whoever’s gets to Seokjin’s side faster. You rolled your eyes at them, they acted like toddlers, you wonder how good the final prize must be to have these grown ass men behaving like kids fighting for candy.

“Mr. Seokjin, I should say my father is a big fan of yours. He owns the gas company of the town by the way. He even said to me that he would love to make business with you one day,” uttered the posh and fancy-looking boy with his chin up and chest out. He seemed to be the type of rich kid who thinks he can buy the world with daddy’s money.

Seokjin hummed at his words without slowing down his quick walk, almost as if he didn’t care at all by the boy words.

“Gas and chocolate have nothing in common, the kids don’t eat gas and the cars don’t fuel on chocolate.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his silly response, making everyone else chuckle along with you. The guy blinked taken aback by Seokjin’s response, not expecting him to reject his proposal so dumbly.

Seokjin looked back at you over his shoulder, giving you an enigmatic smirk with his hat hidden his dark gaze. You felt shivers at his attention, but it was gone when he returned to look straight ahead.

“Hey dude, don’t take that creep seriously, I mean he treat us like kids. He’s so weird,” muttered lowly the blonde boy chewing a gun beside the rich one.

The posh guy crossed his arms with a frown, with his steady eyes sending daggers to Seokjin’s back.

“You’re right. He’s literally broke and he dares to reject my proposal,” spat him with disgust, looking to the other boy head to toe, giving him a smile that looked all too fake, “I’m Taehyung, you are…?”

“Jimin,” smiled the blondie blowing his bubblegum.

“Let’s be friends then.”

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Your eyes were widened and your mouth parted, your grandpa expression wasn’t better. Seokjin brought you to his chocolate room, a huge place with literally a river and a waterfall of melted chocolate, there was a vibrant green grass on your feet, everything looked so colorful and bright that it has all of you entrance, well except for the raven-haired boy with cat eyes, he seemed disgusted.

“Now now, don’t drool over the sight my dear participants. I know this place looks otherworldly, but I need you all to be careful.” He warned standing tall and clasping his arms behind his body.

“This looks pretty unsanitary,” the cat-eye boy sneered with disgust, pursing his lips at the sight of the river.

“Oh, you must be Yoongi. The little devil that hacked my system to win the ticket, don’t worry though, I hold no grudge, boy.” Sneered Seokjin back, you can imagine the mirth in his hidden gaze.

“I’m 29, not a fucking boy. And I’m not “little” anything, your system was just shitty,” said Yoongi with his jaw clenched.

Seokjin’s smirk only widened.

“Forgive me Yoongi, your height confused me a little, it was a little mishap perhaps, I hope you forgive me a little, little Yoongi.”

You bit your tongue to not laugh at Seokjin’s childish and dumb remark. He did hit a nerve though, by the way Yoongi widened his eyes in disbelief with his fists clenched, his cat-eyes were narrowed, and if looks can kill Seokjin would be buried 9 feet underground.

“He’s so cringe, oh my god,” mumbled the biker boy, walking away to get near the river of chocolate, with everyone else following him.

“I think this place is beautiful,” you said to Seokjin, watching your surrounds with awe, standing right next to him.

You felt his piercing gaze fixated on you.

“It is indeed, and besides its beauty, everything here it’s eatable.” He said the last word lowly, making you shiver at his odd change of tone.

“Everything? Even the grass?” You asked impressed.

He chuckled, looking down at you with half of his face hidden by the hat.

“Even the grass, even you.”

You blinked and frowned at his words, he must be joking, right?

“Right… I think you’re funny, sometimes…” you mumbled averting your gaze towards your happy grandpa eating a candy apple.

Seokjin hummed, saying nothing for a long minute.

“Be careful pretty girl, everything inside my factory belongs to me. Everything here I can eat.” Those words horrified you, making you freeze in your place. You watched Seokjin walking away towards the river and the biker boy who was devouring the chocolate with his bare hands.

You watched in slow motion how the boy slipped from the edge falling right into the river of chocolate, and you saw how Seokjin did nothing to help the boy from falling, almost as if he was expecting it to happen.

“He fell into the river! Someone help him!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, alerting the others. You ran to the edge of the river, realizing with dread that the boy was nowhere to be seen. The melted chocolate was motionless, as if he never fell into it.

Everyone rushed to the edge, calling for the boy and sinking their arms into the melt chocolate to grab him but there was no body on the surface.

You felt your pulse quickening with alarm. Your hands trembled and sweat; you couldn’t believe what had just happened. A boy drowned in front of you, probably dead at this point, and you did nothing to save him. Seokjin did nothing help him.

“You didn’t help him!” You shouted at Seokjin, making everyone else went silent. Watching you two with surprise, your grandpa frowned with concern.

Seokjin arched a brow, looking down at you with dark eyes, and then his lips curled in a spiteful half-smile.

“You didn’t help him either, in fact you just stand over there watching him fall. I told him to be careful, I couldn’t risk myself to help him because it would’ve been useless, this river is dangerous. My employees will call the police. Follow me.”

He simply said turning around and pointing forward for the others to follow him, and for your horror they just walked away as if nothing happened, as if there wasn’t a corpse swinging into the depths of the river.

You stand there in shock, your eyes widened and your fists clenched with fury and frustration. You were speechless, and you regret not talking back to Seokjin, not telling the others that you were further than him and that’s why you didn’t react quickly enough to help the boy. But the words were dead on your tongue, it was pointless to argue with Seokjin. The boy was dead anyway, and no one cares.

“I didn’t know he was this cruel, it’s like he got ice in his veins. He wasn’t like that back then, maybe we should go home my sweet pea. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Your grandpa was staring at you with worry written on his face.

You smiled at him, trying not to show your bitterness and fear.

“Don’t worry about me grandpa, let’s stick together and be careful. I want proves to charge him to the police, I know he’s hidden something,” you muttered the last words to yourself.

“All right then, but if it gets too dangerous, we go, okay?”

“Okay,” you promised softly.

You won’t let that freak go unpunished.

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Seokjin made you climb on a boat on the chocolate river, and you felt sick to your stomach when you think about the boy’s corpse in the bottom of the river. It was just so cruel, but you stayed quiet, watching your surrounds to catch anything suspicious, you’re absorbing any kind of information to give it to the police.

The boat sails off towards a tunnel in full speed.

“Where the fuck are we going?” Said the posh guy whose name was Taehyung, looking around with scared eyes.

“If I am honest with you, I have no idea where this boat will lead us,” said calmly Seokjin, sitting with his legs crossed. You wanted to murder him.

“What!?” Screamed the blondie, almost spatting his gum. He was trying to win a Guinness record of the person who chews a gum longer.

“I’m joking, I’m not that crazy. Jeez.” Seokjin muttered, explaining a couple of rooms that were in the tunnel.

This place was literally otherworldly, you didn’t know a factory can hide all this dreamy and extravagant rooms. Seokjin can be a psycho and a weirdo, but he was pretty artsy and creative for building a place like this.

You were in entrance by all the wonders you saw, until you stopped in front of a room with machines, it seems that here is where the candys are made. He was explaining all the whimsy ways he creates candy, until he stopped in front of a big gum machine.

“There is something new I created, an everlasting gum, for the kids who had little money to buy candy. Isn’t it wonderful?” Seokjin’s voice was full of pride, standing tall in front of his machine.

“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale, nothing here feels real.” You say to no one.

“I second that,” said the cat-eyed boy.

The machine let out a violet gum, and the blondie’s eyes shine at the sight.

“I need to taste it, you can charge me the candy later.” Said the blonde whose name was Jimin, chewing the new gum without spiting the other he had.

Seokjin’s lips curled down with annoyance.

“I didn’t say you can chew that, is still a work in progress. I don’t know about its side effects.”

That was a warning, and you knew all to well what would happen next.

Jimin’s face turned blue, literally blue. He started to cough violently, your grandpa gave him strong pats on his back, but it was useless.

You watch with relieve when Yoongi stands behind Jimin placing both of his hands on Jimin’s belly, pulling inward and upward to force air out of Jimin’s lungs. And the blonde did spat the gums, but he fainted anyway. Everyone gasped with worry, and for everyone’s horror the boy’s pulse was absent.

Did he really die? Just like that?

“My employees will call the ambulance, he will be fine. Let’s move on.”

Your lips were parted in shock at his response, you watched freeze from your spot how strangers came out of nowhere to take Jimin’s body away.

Yoongi and you stared at each other with fear.

Something was off. It wasn’t a coincidence what happened, it was a trap for Jimin, maybe the gum was poisoned? But he did warn Jimin about it… But he also did it too late though, he should’ve said something before.

There was a strong tension in the air around all of you. The silence was unbearable, and no one dared to break it.

You stared at Seokjin all the time, watching his every expression, analyzing his words and where he keeps his attention at. But you found nothing odd, yet.

You weren’t surprise when he brought you all to a room full of squirrels getting nuts off its shells. The others were distracted by the sight, especially Taehyung who said that squirrels were his favorite animal.

But your eyes were fixated on Seokjin’s back, something feels off again.

“I’ll have holes in my back by your stares, pretty girl. Though I’m not complaining, I kind of like your intense eyes on me.” Seokjin sneered turning around to face you. His gaze was as intense as yours.

“Really? It’s a shame that I’m only staring at you with disgust, but you must be used to people looking at you like the freak you are.” The words were vomited without your consent, you didn’t mean to blurt all of that. It wasn’t a smart move to insult him when you are in his factory, under his rules.

Seokjin didn’t say anything back, standing tall in front of you, not moving and not talking, making you uncomfortable by his heavy gaze. You did notice a sour expression flashing his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

He then, step slowly towards you, inches from your body. You felt him leaning his upper body closer to you, feeling his hot breath at the side of your head.

“I know you’re a smart girl, so I will warn you once; don’t ever insult me in my factory. If you know what I’m capable of, you wouldn’t stand here so brave offending me.” He whispered near you ear, making you shiver. He spoke those words lowly but firmly.

You blinked, leaning your head back to look at him. He met your gaze, with his eyes falling to your lips.

Is that desire what you see?

Does he think you’re dumb?

“What would you do to me? Drown me in chocolate?” You asked in a whisper, making Seokjin grin like a wolf.

“Perhaps I would, but your body won’t sink in the river but in my cock, opened sweetly for me. I told you everything here belongs to me, and if I say so, you won’t step a foot outside of this factory.”

Seokjin smile was predatory, and his words felt somehow possessive.

What were you all doing here? Does he eat people?

“Because you’ll kill me? And then eat me like Jungkook and Jimin?” You spat with anger.

Seokjin grabbed your waist to pull you closer to him, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me, I would love to eat you. But not kill you, what use can have a rotten candy? The others were simply compost for my experiments, but you are my prize.” He said the last words near your lips, with his hot breath brushing your mouth.

You flinched away from him with disgust and fear. He was crazier than you think. You should’ve run away with your grandpa when he told you to do so, but you knew that Seokjin wouldn’t let you go that easy, all of you were dammed the moment you step a foot inside the factory.

Now you have to think how get the fuck away from here.

A scream from Taehyung pulled you away from your thoughts, you witnessed with horror how the squirrels throw him inside a deep hole in the room, with his screams echoing while he was falling. Until there was a crash noise, and then just deep silence.

Yoongi and your grandpa looked back at Seokjin with horror written on their faces.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

Everyone know it wasn’t the truth.

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The four of you were inside of an elevator made of glass going to god knows where. The silence was present again, lingering heavily, until Yoongi broke it with a deep frown.

“Why are there so many floors? That’s impossible.”

Seokjin snorted at him, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I think your little smart-ass didn’t expect this elevator to go sideways.” Seokjin remarked pressing a button, and as he said, the elevator went sideway to a cold room.

The room was huge and snow covered, your teeth chattered by the cold. You hugged yourself to feel a little bit of warmth, you looked at your grandpa with worry.

“Let me guess, here’s where you make ice-cream.” Said bitterly Yoongi. His nose was turning red.

“Touché.” Replied Seokjin with a grin.

You hate him.

“Why are we here? We’ll die of cold.” You said blowing cold air. You took off your sweater to put it on your grandpa, he needed it more than you.

“Don’t worry, there’s a door leading to another room. Follow me.” Said Seokjin walking away.

You walked through many rooms, each one weirder than the other. Those rooms have no purpose but to be weird and extravagant.

“Why are we fucking walking when we could use the elevator.” Groaned Yoongi with annoyance.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, feeling exhausted.

“Don’t be so grumpy, we’re closer to the end of the contest.”

Seokjin’s words made you shiver, you didn’t want to find out how will be the end or the final prize.

You stopped in front of door, when Seokjin opened it, you entered an empty lab with a television in the middle of the white room.

He made you wear lab coats, and told you to stand in front of the tv.

The screen showed a candy bar in a cave. You frowned, feeling lost of why were you there.

“Little boy, why don’t you grab the candy bar,” ordered Seokjin without taking his eyes off the screen.

Yoongi cursed under his breath, grabbing Seokjin’s coat with his fists. Yoongi might be two heads shorter than Seokjin, but he looked intimidating with those piercing cat eyes.

“Listen here you fucking candy freak, you better stop calling me short or I’ll go and call the police on you, and your weird murderous business. You choose.”

You inhaled sharp when you notice Seokjin’s gaze darkening. Yoongi was so stupid for that, you all were in danger, and he knew damn well.

“Yoongi stop,” you said, trying to save him from earning Seokjin’s wrath.

Your words knocked some sense into his head, because he let go of Seokjin’s coat as if it burned his hands, regret flashed his face. You can’t anger the psycho that has all of you trapped here.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” said Yoongi between teeth.

“It’s all right, no grudges, remember?” Said light-heartly Seokjin, but you knew better than to fall for his nice façade.

“Why are we in front of a tv?” Asked your grandpa, turning Seokjin’s attention back to the tv. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Well, I need one of you to grab the candy bar from the tv screen. Yoongi, would you do us the favor?”

Yoongi laughed, then sobered up when he realized that Seokjin was being serious.

“Uhm, okay I guess,” he said, expecting to crash his hand against the screen, but to your surprise his hand passed through the screen, actually grabbing and pulling the candy bar out of the tv.

All of you were shocked, not believing what just happened.

“Eat it, it’s yummy I promise,” smiled Seokjin, and Yoongi did as he said.

He finished eating, licking the wrapper.

“It was good.”

“Now, return the wrapper into the tv,” ordered Seokjin.

And again, Yoongi did as he said, except this time when he touched the screen he got electrocuted, with his eye balls turning white and his body stiffing by the electric shocks.

You screamed with horror at the top of your lungs, crying and begging Seokjin to stop whatever was happening.

And Seokjin did stop it, by simply turning the tv off.

You watched with tears Yoongi’s body falling to the floor, motionless, lifeless. You couldn’t believe you witnessed that atrocity.

“You’re a monster,” said your grandpa grabbing his chest.

You widened your eyes with worry.

“He needs to get out of here! It’s too much stress for him,” you said with a trembling and desperate voice, making Seokjin hum.

“All right, but in one condition; he can go only if you stay.”

Your grandpa shake his head, not willing to leave you here alone.

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes for a second, you’ll find a way to escape. Your priority now is your grandpa’s health.

“Fine. But I need to see him out of here safe and sound, I don’t trust you.”

“Deal,” grinned Seokjin, like the wolf he was.

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You watched with a heavy heart how Seokjin’s employees took your grandpa away from you, hearing him screaming your name, telling them with sobs “return me to my child! She can’t be alone with that monster”, but no one listened to him. You were standing next to Seokjin in the entrance, watching your grandpa’s body disappear out of the factory, away from you.

At least he was safe.

You though for a second about running away, maybe if you do it fast enough they won’t catch you. But Seokjin read your mind, pulling you inside the factory and locking the big doors with a set of keys, one you noticed in great detail.

But locking you inside didn’t mean you won’t try to run, and so you did. He followed you behind and you run as fast as possible, reaching the room with the chocolate river. You stand on the edge of the river, watching the boat lingering closer to you. You extended your arm to grab the border of the boat, but you slipped, falling straight into the river.

“Watch out!” Were the words you heard from Seokjin before sinking into the chocolate.

The world turned silent, and you feel yourself drowning in a dense immobilizing substance, making it impossible for you to move or swing to the surface.

That’s it, that’s how’ll you die, drowning in fucking chocolate. The most stupid fucking way of dying, but at least you won’t see Seokjin again.

And suddenly, you were on the surface, inhaling lungful’s of air. Seokjin pulled you out of the depths, carrying you to the edge.

You two were soaked in chocolate, lying on the “shore” of the river.

“I’ll chain you, for being so stupid. You have zero survival instincts.” He barked, breathing heavily.

You didn’t expect him to save you, that grossed you out.

You tried to get up but Seokjin didn’t let you, carrying you in his arms in bridal style. You were too weak and tired to protest.

He took you into a hidden room, locking again the door behind him. The way he locks every door makes you feel claustrophobic and trapped.

You shriek when he dropped you on a table, chaining your wrists and ankles to it. You struggle against the chains, but it was impossible to free yourself from them.

Seokjin stared down at you with hunger in his eyes, watching slowly your body sprawled on the table.

He took a knife, and you closed your eyes expecting him to kill you, but he did not. Cutting your clothes instead, tearing your clothes away and leaving you bare for him. Your cheeks heated and your heart beat went wild, you felt angry, exposed and afraid. It was too much.

Seokjin’s lips attached itself to the exposed skin of your belly, making you flinch but bearing it, because you have no choice. He kissed the skin, tasting the chocolate, licking and kissing the skin until your breasts, his tongue circled slowly around your nipples, and then they travel up to your neck.

He lapped your neck slowly, like a thirsty but restrain dog. His hot breath was labored against your neck, and his lips and tongue taste you like a sweet candy.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

And your eyes sting with tears, because you were enjoying it.

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@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty @catlove83 @itlover8000

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

General Sevika Headcannons

Sevika x Female Reader (Fluff)

Content (w): You’re horny in like.. once? Angst at the end, but its short.

Proofread || Note: I didn’t mean to disappear, writers block got to me :( Kinda short and this is, a tiny bit, rushed.

MEN DO NOT INTERACT!!!!

Random

Big on whistling. Does it when she needs your attention, when she’s checking you out, even when she’s teasing. She likes seeing the look on your face. Especially eye rolls, do one with a face and she’s giddy.

Insanely good at Sudoku. She picked it up a while back when Silco taught her the magic behind the numbers. Now, she’ll challenge the old man and watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose while she’s smiling smugly.

Loves when call her, or anything that belongs to her, cool. She likes being cool. That’s probably why she lets her cape fly off during fights.

Hates her glasses, mainly because they lack functionality, but enjoys seeing you thirst over them. She’d going blind and you’re over here drooing over her, she loves that. And, just for fun, she’ll wear a turtleneck; which, gets you hornier than ever.

Expression

Is she good at being romantic? No. She’s never had someone to be.. soft with. In a way, you’re the first person she’s ever opened up to. Be it letting you know her interests, her dislikes, her favourites, or just small, “not so very tough” things about her. However, she’s only just getting used to those things.

Flowers is all Sevika really knows. On her way back from her backbreaking job, she’ll grab you a few flowers from the market or straight up pluck one she randomly saw and surprise you.

Not so good with words. That woman doesn’t have a clue on how to comfort you. Why? Because she’s never been in a situation where she’s had someone talk her through her problems. Where she’s been able to let slip an ounce of vulnerability. Tragic, but she’s learning.

Things she does that she doesn’t realize

Stares so much that, before the two of met, it scared you. You thought you were her next target and lived in fear for the next week or so until the woman, finally, decided to talk to you. And, after a few months of dating you finally brought it up. She denied it at first but, when she caught herself staring at you a million more times she came clean.

“I was only appreciating you.” She brings it up so abruptly that you’re confused, “what are you talking about?”

With a sip of her whiskey, she rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Nothing..”

Her grip’s a little too hard. Her flesh fingers always end up digging into your waist whenever she’s trying to keep you close. Your girlfriend never noticed it until you had to talk to her about the slight redness she had left on your skin. And, for the next week, Sevika brought home boquets of flowers— not the cheap kind— every day until you told her you forgave her. (You didn’t know she wanted you to say so.)

So sassy that you sometimes have to take deep breaths in order to not tell her off. It’s not on purpose, she’s just so used to having that tone. One time you thought she was pissed at you when, in reality, she was just trying to find the next row for her Sudoku round.

Snores loudly. Jannah have mercy on your soul because that woman will not stop snoring for the love of her life. You’ve tried giving her different pillows, different positions, anything and everything, but nothing seems to work. Somehow, over time, you found a way to fall asleep with her deep snores beside you, even though, sometimes, you want to smack her in the face with a pillow.

Dislikes/Hates

Being ignored. Sevika will, quite literally, go insane if you ever give her the silent treatment. She’s not used to being treated like she’s not there— hell, she’s one of the most respected woman in Zaun, why would she be alright with not being acknowledged? Just to get back at you, she’ll annoy you until you break. Chewing loudly in your ear or shaking you up by heavily sitting on the couch beside you, she’s determined, and she knows you know that.

Her own overthinking. She’s been through a lot, and she doesn’t know why you still stick around with all her problems. Even the risk of you being in danger, because of her, makes her stay awake at night, she doesn’t want to lose you and she hates how her mind needs constant reassurance that you want the same thing. Even though she rarely says the amount of doubts she has, she’ll hit you with this look that only you can read. It’s a silent need that you, happily, provide. Murmuring soft words she’ll end up being embarrassed about later.

The saddest one of them all: her face. :(((( Seeing herself in the mirror makes her feel a sense of shame that she’s never fully able to verbally express. It’s the scars that make her feel self conscious, the wrinkles on her face that makes her groan, the masculinity of her jaw that makes her question herself. But, luckily for her, she’s got this amazing girlfriend, you, who will reassure all her problems away. You swoop in when you hear how quiet the apartment has gotten, follow behind her and give her a few looks of awe and comment on whatever she needs you to. Tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen and she’ll melt. Smiling like some teenager while looking away in embarrassment; in that moment, she’s thinking about how lucky she is to have you with blush on her cheeks.

[bahablastplz]

Skz fic recs (mxm) MDNI

hello! we had mixed opinions if we wanted mxm fic recs but I decided to make one anyway so those of you who want it, have at it! those of you who don't, that's okay you don't have to interact <3

These fics are all on ao3! I tried to find tumblr blogs for those authors who have them but if i'm missing anyone feel free to let me know. These are all mature unless otherwise stated! They are majority minsung but in general they are sorted by pairing with the older member first!

here's the color code: completed, ongoing, over 50k words, under 50k words, no smut

Haebang by BulletTears Chan/Everyone, 193k completed: Chan’s friend sets him up for a ‘spa retreat’ but he later finds out it’s a sexual liberation program. Slow burn, virginity loss, kink discovery, angst, hurt/comfort

you know I can’t leave you alone by @jisungjuice Chan/Minho, 13k completed: “When Chan asks Minho to help him with his dancing for the Red Lights MV, he didn't expect to like a certain part of the choreography so (very) much.” red lights, choking, kink discovery

reply hazy, try again by mrehk Chan/Changbin, 15k completed: “Changbin’s calculus tutor is Bang Chan. (OR: solving for the derivative of l+o+v+e)” frat boy chan, fwb, pining, loss of virginity, idiots in love

Case 35 by theproblematique Chan/Felix, 15k completed, part of series: “The running joke is that he is the 'group-dad', and Chan plays the part for his friends without protest. Then Felix has to go and complicate things.” Daddy kink, idiots to lovers

deviation by theproblematique Chan/Jeongin 8k completed: “They all used Chan for their first ruts, until it’s Jeongin's turn.” bang chan wants to feel needed, a/b/o, omega chan, heats/ruts

I’ll never be that type of beautiful by @changbinholic Minho/Changbin, 50k completed: “the unconventional omega Changbin and feral alpha Minho we all needed.” one dubcon scene, a/b/o, angst

Case 54 by theproblematique Minho/Jisung, 35k completed, part of series: “Jisung is so supportive of Minho’s sexuality that it goes wrong.” Jealous Han, coming to terms with sexuality, great buildup

Your love (my breath) by Lox_y Minho/Jisung, 34k ongoing: “In which Jisung is the luna of his pack, and is tormented by his mate until he's killed in a fight with a neighboring pack, by an alpha named Minho.” heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, hurt/comfort

Rule number one by evesmysoul Minho/Jisung, 144k completed: “Or Jisung’s broken heart leads him to make an arrangement with his mysterious classmate Minho. He believes everything will work out, as long as neither of them breaks the rules.” fwb, bad with feelings, slow burn, angst, happy ending

Ruin me (for everyone else) by preetydark Minho/Jisung, 20k completed: “Minho’s rut is blocked, it’s been for years now.This was never really a problem for him; except when the symptoms show up again when his younger brother's best friend, Jisung, is around.” pining, a/b/o, tension

no attachments by ockleibi, Minho/Jisung, 68k ongoing: “The guy who refuses to have sex with Jisung because he's a virgin turns out to be inextricably connected to his friend group. Awesome.” fwb, virginity loss, angst, great smut

chasing friction by cloudrages Minho/Jisung, 5k completed: “Jisung rides Minho’s thigh” virginity loss, gay panic, thigh riding (duh)

use me for a feeling (or a good time) by honeyeaters Minho/Jisung, 58k completed: “Minho and Jisung have slept with everyone except each other. Until that changes. No feelings attached, of course.” fwb, pining, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

mouth to mouth by keros Minho/Jisung, 54k completed; “It’s Jisung’s first time off schedule in months, and he’s naturally anticipating the most boring day ever. When Minho gets back to the dorms early, it turns into anything but.” pining, tension, teasing, confessions

you have one (1) new notification by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung, 8k completed: “Jisung asks Minho to help him with his porn-watching addiction. Against his better judgment, Minho agrees.” friends to lovers, tension, humor lots of thoughts, head full (and bursting with horniness) by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung 13k completed: “Minho develops the power to read minds. Turns out, Jisung's thoughts are very, very horny.” mutual pining, friends to lovers, humor, I have a plan to write an xreader fic inspired by this soon

ex proprio vigore by mrehk Minho/Jisung, 23k completed, professor minho/law school student han, slowburn, tension, teasing, great smut, power dynamics

a fish tank (with rainbow socks) by mrehk, Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho never sleeps with the same guy twice; Jisung becomes a master of disguise” strangers to lovers, idiots in love, humor, mrehk has the best writing 

an octopus (playing tennis) by mhrek Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho sighs. “Put yourself in my shoes, Bin. You see incriminating photos of your best friend. You realize you’ve been in love with your best friend for ages. You can’t stop touching your dick while thinking about your best friend— and now you’re just supposed to hang out with your best friend like everything is fine?!” friends to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, comedy, mutual pining  chrysalis by mhrek Minho/Jisung 12k completed: “Jisung didn’t prepare for this. He was meant to just— tell Minho he’s gay— not ask him to have sex with him. The glass must have been a literal breaking point for his feeble self control.” friends to lovers, mutual pining, loss of virginity, gay awakening

cat’s cradle by mrehk, Hyunjin/Jeongin 13k completed: “Hyunjin starts fucking his drug dealer because he asked so nicely” stoners, fwb, gay awakening, idiots in love 

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do by @/jisungjuice Jisung/Everyone 117k completed: “How omega Jisung turns all of Stray Kids into a proper pack.” fluff, a/b/o, light angst, loss of virginity, poly

between pavement and sky by tellmesomethinggood Jisung/2min 5k completed: “You want Minho to... cheat on you?" Jisung asks. "I want Minho to sleep with someone, while I watch." Seungmin says.” threesome, cuckholding, poly

Unsweetened Lemonade by Intricate 6 Jisung/Felix, Jisung/Everyone 44k ongoing: “Jisung runs away from his old pack only to be captured by another. This pack claims to be different, but Jisung isn't so sure…” Heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

I’ll be good by skittlesmenu Jisung/Seungmin, 5k completed: “Cocky fuck boy Jisung gets flustered when top student Seungmin flirts back.” enemies to friends, fwb, tension

Open your hands (open your life) by rainyleafs Felix/Everyone, 158k ongoing: “Felix has been living off the grid ever since he fled his abusive former alpha. When he finds a distressed omega in an alley, he has no idea that bringing Jeongin back to his pack will get him everything he would never have dared to dream of.” No smut, slow-burn, hurt/comfort

effortless like loving you by littleinfinitewisdoms Jeongin/everyone, 202k ongoing; “Yang Jeongin, 24, "beta," has been disowned by his religious family after coming out. A month or so later, he finds himself with nowhere else to go, and almost no more money. He finally calls a crisis center and gets placed in an employment assistance program and a host pack.” fluff, angst, past trauma/abuse, religious trauma, haven’t finished yet but it’s good enough so far to recommend

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part 11)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, all hurt no comfort, swearing, tears, the usual 🙂‍↕️

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been WAY too long since I've updated this story and I apologise for that 🙂‍↕️ I finally feel like I've gotten my life back on track to finally be able to post a long awaited update!! Thank you to everyone who still reads and enjoys my fics, it means a lot ! 🥹 - Tae 💜🌸✨

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“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“His girlfriend left him, genius. What do you think is wrong with him?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His housemates have as much subtlety as an earthquake. Their naturally loud voices seep through the closed door of his bedroom as he stares at his ceiling, a sigh leaving his lungs in the darkness as the outside voices drone on.

“Hyung,” Mingyu sighs. “It’s been over a week now… Should we call someone?”

“Who would we call?” Junhui retorts. “His soulmate? Because up until last week, I thought his soulmate was Ji-ah.”

The mention of her name creates another pit in Jihoon’s stomach. He hates it. He wishes he could just get over the stupid emotions that run through his veins at the mere thought of his not-soulmate, now also not-girlfriend.

“His parents are hours away and he has no siblings that we can contact.” Junhui continues, frustration laced in his voice. “I don’t know who we could call.”

“Doesn’t hyung have a cousin who-”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying. You know that, right?” 

Jihoon’s hard voice carries through the door, his housemates falling silent on the other end.

“Jihoon-ah.” A deep voice mutters, causing him to tense up. He knows that Wonwoo knows how to get through to him. “Can we talk?”

After a long pause, Jihoon’s bedroom door slightly creaks open. “Wonwoo, I told you yesterday,” he stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the older man. “I am fine-”

“You are not, Jihoon-ah. And we both know it.” 

“How do you know?” He snips.

“You haven’t left your bedroom since Ji-ah left you last week.” Jihoon sucks his teeth at her name.

“I never left my bedroom before she left me.” He hisses back.

“Yes, you did.” Wonwoo retorts back. 

“When? To go on dates with her?” he barks. “To take her out? To go visit her family? Well, guess what? She is gone, Wonwoo, so I have a whole lot more free time and I choose to spend that time at home.” his voice cracks slightly, bottom lip shaking as he moves to close the door once more, his frown deepening as Mingyu grabs a hold of the door before it closes.

“Hyung, we’re sorry.” Mingyu’s voice is softer now as he looks at him with sad eyes. “We’re so fucking sorry that you’re going through this but we are here for you and want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Please don’t push us away.” Wonwoo frowns, his hand resting over Jihoons. “Jihoon-ah…”

Jihoon shakes his head quietly, a small hiccup leaving his lips. “Wonwoo, I promise, I’m fine.” He gently lets his hand fall from Wonwoo’s as he moves to shut the door to his bedroom once more, wiping the stray tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.

“I truly don’t know what to do, guys.” Jihoon winces at the defeated tone of his older housemate’s voice as he climbs back into the comfort of his bed once more, hoping to forget about the world around him for a little bit longer.

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh as he steps into his first Film Studies class in nearly two weeks, slumping down in his chair, rubbing at his temples slightly as Professor Park begins his usual droning on. He really should be listening to the lecture at hand, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can feel the eyes of multiple people in the class lingering on him. He’s sure that word has gotten around now about his very public dumping and the fact that Ji-ah was obviously never his soulmate. He hates that he can feel the sympathy radiating off of his peers, and even off of you, his real soulmate, sitting directly beside him with your stupid perfect hair and stupidly neat notes that you wordlessly offered him to help catch him up on the classes he missed. He accepts them graciously, spending most of the lesson copying your notes into his notebook.

“Professor,” a deep voice from the back of the room calls out near the end of the lesson, drawing Jihoon from his thoughts. 

“Yes, Jaebeom?” 

Your soulmate glances at you at the sight of your body tensing up at the mention of the newcomer’s name. He tilts his head slightly as he feels nerves begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach from you, causing him to raise a brow. You take a slow breath before scribbling idly on your page again, indifference on your face, but Jihoon knows it’s a front. 

Why are you so tense?

“About the extension on our group project?” Jaebeom’s voice lulls out in a drawl, a clear cockiness hidden in his tone. 

“Ah yes,” Professor Park hums, nodding his head. “I know some of you have gone ahead and already submitted your essays and presentations to me, and I’m thankful for you guys for getting these to me on time and even earlier. For the remainder of you all who have yet to submit your projects, I’ve extended the deadline by two weeks, due to an unavoidable event I must attend.”

Jihoon hears his classmate’s sighs of relief, and in turn, he breathes out as well. He knew he had neglected his end of his project with you for the last week, and he feels grateful that he can make up for it.

“I do hope the rest of you,” Professor Park sends a look to the back of the room, “get this done in due time. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon wordlessly offers your notebook back to you, a frown forming on his face when he sees you duck your head, letting your hair fall over your face. He glances to see a taller man wearing low jeans and a beat up baseball cap on his head march- no, strut down the stairs to reach the door, sauntering out with what Jihoon can only describe as a sleazy grin on his face. Once he steps out of the room, you immediately collect your things, bow your head to Jihoon with a little smile, and jump up to leave the classroom.

“Professor,” your soulmate approaches the teacher. “I appreciate you extending the deadline-”

“Oh, Jihoon-ssi!” Professor Park smiled. “Are you feeling better? Miss Choi told me that you were unwell when she submitted your project to me last week.”

“Oh.. Yeah, I’m feeling alri- Wait. Submitted?” Jihoon blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Both of your arguments had wonderful points to pit against each other. Well done! I will be posting your grades in a few weeks!”

You finished off the project for him? Why are you so… nice?

“Uh… Thank you, Professor.” Jihoon bows his head in thanks before slowly stepping out of the classroom, starting to walk in the direction of home, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

Jihoon takes a deep sigh as he finds himself sitting down at the park bench that is so familiar to him now, letting the raindrops land on his clothes and face as he tilts his head back.

“Jihoon-ssi?” your voice is quiet over the sound of the loud rain, but Jihoon could hear you. He always does. He blinks as he feels the heavy raindrops that land on his hoodie abruptly stop, looking up to see a pastel umbrella being held over his now drenched body. “What are you doing out here?”

Jihoon shrugs quietly for a moment. “I… don’t know.” He glances down at the wet sleeves of his hoodie. “Just.. Thinking.”

“Well, I think you should think away from a torrential downpour next time,” you quip with a little smile, hoping the joke makes him crack a smile.

“Nah,” he hums. “It’s comforting, the rain..” 

“Comforting?” You echo, tilting your head innocently as he hums a confirmation.

“Mm. Rain doesn’t have colour.” He glances at you for a moment, slightly amused by the cluelessness on your face as you just blink at him. “Ah, it’s silly, really,” he continues. “The sky doesn’t have colour when it rains, it reminds me of what the world looked like before everything changed. Everything is so different now.”

“You’re right.” You agree quietly. “Everything is different.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon mumbles after a brief silence. “For helping finish off the project while I was… y’know.”

“Oh, that?” You shrug. “That was nothing. You had all the arguments, I just articulated them for you. Figured that you already had enough on your plate so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I submitted a little early to get it out of the way for the both of us.”

“How do you do it?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“... Live.” Jihoon’s voice is barely above a whisper as you settle down on the park bench beside Jihoon, still holding the umbrella over his head. “How do you just live life so damn happily while you feel like absolute shit all the time? And don’t deny that you don’t, I have felt every single emotion you have felt for weeks now.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky before humming. “I suppose I just got used to it.” You shrug. “It kind of just became like a background noise for me. It’s just always there.” 

“Even when the pain is doubled now? Because of me?”

You shrug once more. “It’s not something I haven’t dealt with before. I can feel the pain for both of us, Jihoon-ssi. It’s okay.” You give him a little smile. “I have had a lot more practice at loss than you have.”

Jihoon feels the irritation bubbling up inside him slowly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You blink in confusion as you glance at him. “Huh?”

“I have experienced loss too, you know.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I am more than capable of feeling these emotions too.” He frowns.

“I know,” you emphasize, “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to face them on your own.”

Jihoon scoffs quietly. Who does she think she is, giving him advice on how to deal with his emotions? “I know that too. You don’t need to point out the obvious, Choi.”

“Do you know that?” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what Mingyu told me, you’ve barely left your room until this week.”

“Ugh,” Jihoon groans, leaning his head back. “Am I not allowed to have time to myself?”

“Of course you are,” you sigh. “But you’re also-”

“You know, you should think about facing your emotions on your own instead of relying on everyone else around you.” Jihoon hisses at you with a glare as you freeze with wide eyes. 

“H-huh?” He can feel your doubt seeping into his veins.

“Your brother, his soulmate, Soonyoung, Seokmin,” he rambles. “They’re always at your beck and call when they could be living their own lives with each other and not have to worry about you every five fucking minutes like you’re their child.”

“I…” You balk, Jihoon wincing at the feeling of your stomach twisting inside him. But he doesn't care, he wants you to hurt as much as he does. It’s your fault he doesn’t have Ji-ah anymore, afterall.

“Just go away!” He barks. “When will you realize that your help isn’t needed?! You’re not needed! I lost the one girl I truly fucking loved because of YOU! Why would I want you around?! Leave me alone already!”

After a long silence, Jihoon finally turns his head to look at you, staring at him for what seems like hours with the same look that you had on the day you brushed hands for the first time. That isn’t what frightens your soulmate, though. What frightens him is the fact that he can’t feel anything inside him anymore, besides his own pain.

“... sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” You mumble robotically, delicately placing the umbrella beside him before rising and walking through the heavy rain in the direction of your house, letting the rain run down your clothes.

“Fuck.” Jihoon sighs heavily and buries his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears your footsteps move further and further away.

He needs to apologize. He knows he does. He knows he said those words out of anger and hurt, and he knows you definitely didn’t deserve it. 

But why can’t he find it in himself to go to you and do it? You’re literally two tables away from him right now.

Jihoon, he scolds himself, it’s been days. You need to man up and tell her you’re sorry. 

Could he be worrying a little now because since he confronted you, he has felt no emotions whatsoever from you? Has he finally lost the tether from you?

“Hello you!!” A loud, cheery voice snaps him into reality. He blinks as he stares at his cup of ramen in his hand, fidgeting on the hard steel of the cafeteria chair underneath him, trying to figure out where the loud voice had come from.

Seungkwan makes his way over to where you’re sitting, draping himself over your back. Before he can ask how you are, you jolt up quickly, scooting away from him like you’ve been burned.

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, pressing yourself up against the wall. “Where’s Hansol? You should be with Hansol.”

Seungkwan’s face contorts slightly as he sticks his lips out in almost a pout. “He had to run to make his next class… Bug, what’s wrong-”

“I actually have to run too, Kwan.” You stammer out quickly, grabbing your backpack and stepping out from behind the table. “Talk later?”

“But, you haven’t even touched your lunch…” his voice fades out as he watches you rush quickly out of the cafeteria, surprise etched on his face.

Jihoon watches on, just as surprised as Seungkwan as he reaches the table with him, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Okay, what the hell was that? What happened to Bug?” Seungkwan immediately questions Soonyoung, who upon further inspection, looks just as out of it as you are.

“We don’t know,” Seokmin speaks for his soulmate. “Every time she’s at home, she stays locked up in her room and only leaves to cook dinner for us and clean up. She didn’t even come down for movie night the other night.”

Your soulmate’s eyes widened slightly as Soonyoung took a deep breath. “Something has happened and she won’t tell us what. She doesn’t even speak when she’s at home anymore.”

“We’ve tried to talk to her, get her to come out of her room, do anything, but she doesn’t budge. I’m getting worried.” Seokmin bites his lip.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened to our Bug. She is literally just doing fucking chores and whenver one of us tries to hang out..” your best friend rubs at his temples. “She keeps insisting we hang out with our soulmates. With each other. I don’t know why the fuck that doesn’t mean she can’t hang out with us too.”

Jihoon feels sick as your housemate’s words sink in to him.

When will you realize your help isn’t needed? You’re not needed!

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Jihoon-ah.” Wonwoo breathes out when Jihoon finally steps through the door. “You were supposed to be back four hours ago. What the hell were you- Jihoon-ah?” 

His eyes widened at the sight of his housemate stepping under the lights of the hallway, lip trembling and hair sticking in six different directions. Jihoon truly didn’t mean to take so long making it home. He supposes he lost track of time wandering campus with his racing mind.

He knew his words had gotten to you. At the moment it felt good, for you to feel the pain he did. But now? Seeing his friends, your family agonizing over how detached you are? 

What has he done?

“Jihoon…” Junhui looks on worriedly, reaching forward to slip the backpack off his housemate’s shoulders.

“I… I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date her, Wonwoo.” His voice quivers as he stares at the ground. “I knew that she already had a soulmate, but… I-I didn’t think…” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees.

“She told me that he had moved countries years ago… There was no chance he’d come back…” a small tear slides down his cheek as his housemate hums in acknowledgement. “And when I… when I found my soulmate and I-” Jihoon chokes back a sob. “And I rejected them to keep a hold of Ji-ah…” His soft cries echo into the quiet hallway. “I… I felt their heart break inside of me, I’ve felt their pain for weeks a-and now I feel their pain on top of my own and… fuck, I broke her, man.”

“Oh, Jihoon…” Junhui sighs sympathetically as Wonwoo pulls Jihoon towards him, bringing his head into his shoulder as his arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace. 

Jihoon pauses for a moment. He blinks once, twice, and a third time before he lets out a soft sob, his hands gripping onto Wonwoo’s shoulders desperately as he buries his face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung,” he chokes out. “I r-really fucked up.”

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[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Blankets & Burdens

Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes, she catches him flinch.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Very brief mentions of childhood abuse. Brief mention of Merle (He's always a warning). Mostly fluffy with just a sprinkling of angst.

A/N: This is a chapter from a Daryl series I'm writing, but I wanted to see if it would be of interest to anyone before I start posting chapters.

-

Daryl is great in a fight, hell of all people she’s ever met if she wanted anyone to fight with it’d be Daryl, he’s quick and instinctive and strong, but sometimes, sometimes she catches the flinch. Not the usual flinch of being hit, the flinch that tells for a split second he remembers. The flinch of the little boy he used to be, the flinch that makes her see him scared and sad and alone. The flinch that makes her see fucking red.

He barely bats an eyelid at walkers, they’re as easy to him as Squirrels now, but when the bigger man’s fist is millimetres from his face she sees him flinch as if watching it in slow motion. She barely remembers moving until she finds herself standing over his lifeless body with her hands bloody. He’s easily almost double her size, hefty as well as strong but fingertips drip onto the ground with a deafening thud that she should barely be able to hear.

There’s a tremor in her hands as she looks at them, she’d like to blame the cold for it but she knows it isn’t the weathers fault. It’s been hotter than Satan’s asshole for weeks, so why they had to go hunting on the coldest day of the damn apocalypse she’ll never know but she hasn’t turned down an invitation for his company yet. He asks if she wants to join and the easy answer of yes rolls off her tongue before she’s even thought about his question. She’d say yes to anything as long as he asked.

“Thanks”

His voice startles her out of her thoughts, and she knows him well enough to know that’s on purpose, so she raises a fleeting smile in his direction suddenly feeling warmer just for having looked at him. She clenches her fist to try and calm the movement in her hand, just missing the way his gaze flicks down and back up in time to clock it. He’s observant to an alarming degree.

“Always”

Daryl’s arm cracks loudly as he pulls the blade out of the mans torso, grunting as he adjusts it in its socket to make sure he hasn’t just dislocated it. She nods towards it as he awkwardly hands her the machete back, trying to ignore the fact his fingers touch hers, trying to ignore the way it electrifies him or the way she shakes.

“You okay?”

“’m fine”

He brushes her off as if the joint doesn’t sting, as if his whole body doesn’t hurt already when he wakes up, as if any of them have been okay since everything started. Sure, the prison is a million times better than being on the road, but its not exactly comfortable and he doubts anything will ever be safe again; what’s a little shoulder pain if not another inconvenience on top of a never ending plethora of inconveniences.

-

There’s a fire going that night. It burns just outside the courtyard where they’ve dragged a handful of chairs to hide, enough behind a building to be out of the line of sight from the walkers gathering by the fence. He watches for a moment as she tries to warm herself up, still delicate hands running the length of her arms as she stares at the flames in front of her. He’s been surprised that she’s managed to stay gentle in all of this, always a smile or a laugh for him but her face looks haunted.

He watches her more often than he’ll admit to, though he’ll admit to exactly zero watching if anyone dared to ask, which they wouldn’t because he still looks terrifying to most people. He’s definitely not in love with her, no way, he definitely doesn’t lay awake at night thinking about how he’d like to grow old with her. Zero thinking or watching, if anyone asked, thank you very much.

He toes his boot on the concrete as he tries to decide if he should leave her alone. He doesn’t, of course, because he can’t. Hasn’t been able to since he found her in a cabin in the woods with more holes than walls. Excuse after excuse to be close to her, and okay there’s a tiny spark of hope in him that feels like she seeks him out too, but he’s never allowed himself to entertain the blossom of it for more than a split second before his low self-esteem takes over.

“Ya alright?”

“Yeah”

Her voice sounds far away, quiet and floating in the middle distance as she stares through the fire without turning to look at him. He sits on a chair next to her, tapping his fingers against his jean covered knee to stop from reaching out to hold her hand or something equally embarrassing.

“Ya sure?”

“I didn’t even blink”

“Huh?”

“Saw you flinch and I just wanted him off you, didn’t even hesitate”

“Yeah” he doesn’t know what to say, he’s had the same urge for her countless times. He never hesitates; he likes the group, he really does despite his disposition, but he thinks they’d probably have to think twice if it was a decision to save him. He doesn’t have a response for knowing she wouldn’t.

“People talk you know? Stuff about your brother”

He grunts in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t have a response. Of all the places he thought this conversation might go, Merle never crossed his mind.

“I think maybe we’re not as different as you think we are. I saw the way you flinched, I…recognised it” She pauses for a beat, flicking her gaze up to him, catches the way he chews on his lip before she continues “I don’t know who or what-“

“I ain’t gon-“

“I’m not asking. I’m just sorry that’s not something you got to tell me in your own time”

He’s taken back by the care in the sentence, though he shouldn’t be. She’s given him pause numerous times with the amount of consideration she shows. He’s not the only observant one between them.

She shivers violently, bopping the soles of her trainer covered feet on the ground to make her body shake.

“Ya alright?”

“Freezing. Can’t get warm, been cold for fucking hours” She tries to laugh but he hears the way her teeth clench as she grits the sentence out. They’ve been back since before sundown, she should have warmed up by now.

“Ya want my jacket?”

“No, I think I’m going to bed” She pauses as she stands. Rests her hand on his shoulder with a firm but gentle squeeze, he resists the urge to gasp at how cold her hands are “Thanks though”

-

The gentle tap of knuckles against metal makes her lift her head. It’s quiet enough not to wake her if she’d been sleeping, and that alone tells her its Daryl before he even draws back the makeshift curtain. For all of his gruff exterior, considerations seeps from his every pore even without trying.

“Brought ya a blanket”

His voice is low, hushed and gruff at the edges but he holds it out to her like a kid who might get scolded for it. She shuffles up slightly, smiling at him in the dim light from the hallway.

“This your one?” She asks, knowing there’s hardly spare anything in this place anymore, taking it and bunching it up under her nose to inhale the smell of him, knowing it’ll look like she’s testing her theory instead of relishing it.

He doesn’t answer which is in itself an answer, she shakes her head, holding it back towards him.

“Jus’ take it”

She studies the way his sock clad feet twitch against the floor, the slightly wringing of his hands in front of him, nervous and shy in a way that’s so him but shouldn’t be.

“Want to share with me?”

“Nah, it’s okay”

She opens the blanket covering her with her free arm, refusing to take her eyes of his face to see if she’s imagining what’s been under the surface with them. It’s minute really, a split second that she’d have missed had she not been looking for it, but his eyes flick down to her bare legs, jaw clicking in what looks like restraint. She tilts her head to the side like a dog trying to understand a situation that seems familiar but isn’t.

“’Cause you don’t want to, or ‘cause you think I don’t?”

He doesn’t answer. Her options are push him out of his comfort zone or take his only blanket and neither seem like a great option, but he hasn’t stopped looking at her and he doesn’t seem like he wants to make a Daryl sized hole in any of the walls.

“Won’t even touch you if you don’t want me to”

A pause, a scoffed laugh under his breath. She expects him to ignore the tease entirely. He’s shy, tentative, she’s not even sure he feels anything like she does but he accepts the invitation with a stiff nod, closing the curtain behind him so the light blurs out. She can just about make out the solid shape of him as he steps forward.

He’s quiet at the best of times, hunting trained steps that are softer than they seem they would be, but he barely makes a sound until he’s sitting on the edge of her cot. Shaky sigh leaving barely parted lips as he eases his legs up onto the bed; sliding under the blanket she offers; throwing his own one on top of them both haphazardly.

“Didn’t say that, did I?”

He lifts his arm up, above her head, sucking in a sharp quiet breath when she burrows into the crook, resting her head on his firm bicep and avoiding his shoulder. Its not like he was expecting her to face the wall or anything, but he’ll never stop being shocked by the casual affection she offers.

“Don’t want to hurt your arm”

He huffs, using his other hand to shift her into a slightly more comfortable but closer position so her head Is resting on his chest. He studies the top of her head like it holds all the answers, like if he can just focus on the tip of her nose that he can see past her hairline he can magically work out what this means.

“Why ya s’ kind to me?” He whispers, as if he hasn’t spent all day caring for them all, hasn’t given up his blanket and his bed to keep her warm. He thinks she might have drifted off before she answers, soft voice low and drenched in the threat of sleep. Comfortable. Warm.

She moves a hand up to his chest, rests it over his heart so she can hear the steady thudding under her palm, presses her lips to the cold skin on his cheek

“Why don’t you think you deserve it?”

“Go t’ sleep”

A snort, dismissive in a way she normally wouldn’t let him get away with. Normally he’s not wrapped around her though, normally the beginnings of rest aren’t pulling behind her eyelids whilst he holds her.

“Goodnight Daryl”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

HIII! I have a request if you’d be up to write for it. What about a plus size female reader that’s super soft like a teacher or social worker or something dating yelena. reader can be kinda air headed but is very sweet and loving. and yelena is still hard, strict, and disciplined hard ass yelena. everyone doesn’t understand how they work but they balance each other. maybe reader had a hard day at work and yelena helps her to unwind by being there for her and loving on her. maybe takes her on. short weekend trip to see the barton family or something! i’m not sure if you do smut but smut is always good if you’re comfortable writing it!

A Heart of Gold

Note: I realized that this kind of got off topic of the original request. However, I do have a part 2 in mind if you guys are interested. I just think Yelena deserves a life outside of fighting and I want to give her that lol.

Warning: mention of past abuse, mention of the red room, cannon typical injuries, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Sweetheart, do you-”

“On the side table. Next to the flowers.” Right. You walked over to the table and placed your keys in your back pocket. Your girlfriend brought home a bouquet, and you got distracted by them. That was why your keys weren’t in the right spot.

“Alright. Thank you. I’m late, so I’ll see you at dinner.” You rushed for the door.

“I think you are forgetting something, detka,” the sound of her footsteps from the couch as she walked over to you. The Russian pace was slow, giving you time to think. The laptop and case files were at your office. Your backpack was packed with your water bottle, breakfast, and other office supplies. Your phone was in your hand, and the keys were in your back pocket. What were you missing?

Your answer came when Yelena pushed your body against the wooden door and molded her lips against yours. Her sudden display of strength took you by surprise, but you moaned against her lips. After all these months together, her ability to manhandle you always left you weak at the knees. Although you were comfortable with your size, years and years of taunting by your peers left scars. She constantly reminded you she could handle your size with her strength.

When she pulled away from you, she had a smirk on her face, no doubt pleased with your blown-out look. “You are going to be late, dorogoy,” you huffed and straightened out your shirt, which was wrinkled with her body pressed against yours.

“Whose fault is that?” You asked. The blonde shrugged. “Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll pick it up.” You opened the door to leave. With your back turned Yelena smacked your ass. At this point, you weren’t surprised.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“You are late,” Amelia said. Her eyes never left her computer screen as she handed you a few files. You took them with a smile and sat down at your desk. You weren’t that late, only 5 minutes.

“I had an extra long breakfast,” you teased and began to set up your desk. A plushie hit you on the side of the head. It was a carbon copy of your girlfriend’s dog that spent her time in Russia with her parents. The team kept a mount of stuffed animals in their office. It helped kids find peace in a new and stressful environment. Well, this time, your coworker, Johnathan, used it as a weapon.

“Stop being gross!” You quickly threw it back at him, but you missed your target. Also, it wasn’t the first time implied sexual comments were made before the morning meeting. Most of them were from Johnathan.

“Children, let’s focus on the meeting.” Amelia sighed. Johnathan huffed, and you stuck your tongue out at him, but you brought in your childlike behavior. Your work was necessary.

As a social worker, it was your job to be a voice in particular demanding situations, such as domestic conflicts, divorce, or substance abuse. You witnessed a lot of darkness, but you also saw a lot of good. You helped new parents adopt kids, reunite families, and help kids find the strength to stand up to their abusers.

This job brought you into Yelena’s path. It wasn’t the most conventional way of meeting. She broke into your apartment to get information about a young girl you expected was being abused. It turned out Sasha was a Black Widow, sold to her ‘parents’ by the Red Room. You helped the blonde get Sasha away from them, and once the case was over, you expected never to see the Russian again. But she stayed and carved a spot in your life. It seemed impossible to let her go. You held on tight, and through a lot of trial and error, she became yours.

After the meeting to discuss the upcoming cases, your phone buzzed again. You knew it was a text from Yelena.

I know what I want for dinner.

You

Thankfully, your coworkers were focused on their tasks for the day. They missed how your body tensed up, and you slammed your phone face down on your thigh. Then another text came through. Slowly, you looked at your phone.

But could you pick up Chinese? I have been craving it.

You sent a simple thumbs up and locked your phone. She was going to be the death of you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Yelena was pissed. On paper, it was a simple check-in. Melina found a Widow still under Dreykov’s control that slipped under their radar. She wanted to gauge her target from a distance, but now she was covered in cuts and bruises. Still, she exposed the Widow to the red dust she had kept on hand. It was all because her sister sent her a text inviting her to a party at the Avenger’s compound. She insisted that you come with her. Her older sister had met you once.

Natasha arrived at Yelena’s apartment without warning. You were in the kitchen, making a box of mac and cheese. Even though you were a distaste in the kitchen, you perfected the simple meal when you discovered it was her favorite. It was an awkward first meeting. Since then, Yelena had hesitated to introduce you to the rest of the Avengers.

She was not ashamed of you, but she liked the little bubble of peace you created. In the safety of the apartment, Yelena could just be Yelena—not a Black Widow, a gun to hire, or someone the Avengers wanted on their team. She was just Lena. She liked that.

When the door opened, she glanced up. You were struggling to juggle your work bag and the bag of Chinese you picked up. The smell made Yelena’s stomach growl. Usually, she would be up on her feet to help you. However, she needed to allow the serum to heal the sounds. The last thing she wanted was to get blood on your floor. Because of this, she was able to observe you. You were so clumsy. It was adorable. This slight characteristic made it easy for Yelena to fall for you because you were different.

You weren’t a trained spy or agent. You were normal - a superhero in your own right. But Yelena found safety in how her ridged edges molded with your soft ones.

Finally, your eyes landed on hers. You gasped and dropped your work bag on the floor. Thankfully, you had the foresight to place the food on the counter before you rushed over. “What happened?” You sat next to her while grabbing the opened first aid kit. Yelena waved you off.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Yelena shrunk under your tense gaze. Sometimes, the blonde forgot how serious you could be when injuries were involved. You gave no warning when you pressed an alcohol pad to the worst wound on her stomach. Yelena let out a low hiss, and she watched your eyes soften.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I don’t like coming home to see my girlfriend bleeding out.” Well, that was a little dramatic, but Yelena couldn’t stop the way her heart fluttered. She was your girlfriend. She had someone to come home to. Your heart was too big for this cruel world. Still, Yelena was a little shit.

“Now, that would not be a cool way to die,” she managed to make you smile. “The serum will take care of it, plus the help from my sexy nurse,” she pinched your thigh. You rolled your eyes and cleaned up the used medical supplies. Yelena hated that you got up to grab the food, but she loved the view. You swayed your hips on purpose. Yelena groaned and closed her eyes. She opened them when you came back with the food. “How was work?”

“Amelia gave me shit for being late.” Yelena shrugged. She wasn’t going to apologize for loving on you a little extra. “We are making headway on the Samantha case.” The blonde almost broke the chopsticks she was using. The case was heartbreaking. It was a clear case of child abuse by the girl’s biological father and stepmother. You were working on behalf of the girl’s mother to get her rights back and custody of the girl. However, her father was wealthy and had the money to run a smear campaign. First, he painted the mom as a drug addict. Then, he went after her sexuality. It was pissing Yelena off. You had to stop her multiple times for going all Black Widow on the guy.

“Her mother has a new girlfriend. I met her today,” you took a break to wipe your mouth and sip water. “She’s a cop.” Yelena’s eyebrows went to her hairline. “A beat cop for the NYPD, but it will help the mother’s credibility in court,” you waved your hand. “Tell me what happened.” You placed your food on the coffee table and turned to look at Yelena. Your arm was bent on the back of the couch. Yelena knew you weren’t going to let this go. You were stubborn, which is why you were good at your job. For 6 months, Yelena was learning to break down her walls.

Sighing, she placed her food next to yours. “I was distracted,” you smiled at her. “Natalia called me before I went to check on a Widow. The Widow got the jump on me.” Still, your smile remained, but you began to run your fingers through her hair. The sensation helped Yelena relax further on the couch.

“What did your sister want?” Yelena wouldn’t have answered. Her eyes were fluttering close. Then your hand stuffed, and the blonde huffed.

“She invited us to a party at the compound,” Once she answered, you continued your movement. “I told her I would think about it.” You hummed.

“Do you want to go?” Yelena shrugged. It wasn’t a difficult question, but she wasn’t sure of the answer. “Oh!” You jumped up from the couch suddenly. “I forgot I got you something,” Yelena watched you run over to your bag, slipping on the wood floor. The blonde chuckled. Although she believed you forgot about the surprise, you always knew when Yelena was done talking about something. Especially when it involved her family. You returned with something behind your bag.

“Detka, you did not have to get me something,” you shrugged. Your love language was gift-giving—something Yelena was still getting used to.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands,” Yelena huffed but did what she was told. You placed the foreign object in her hand. It was light, soft, and made from the same material as your half-finished blanket. “Open.” In her hands was a tiny crocheted ninja. A hook was on it so she could put it in a bag. Yelena raised her eyebrows at you. “Because you are my little ninja.” You were very proud of that. Yelena chuckled and placed her gift next to her. You weren’t expecting Yelena to pull you down onto her lap. You yelped and moved your hands to keep your weight off of her. “You are hurt.”

“They are already healed. Now,” Yelena grabbed your hips. “Sit down.” She forced you down until you sat flushed on top of her. Your weight was comforting against her as she sat up to kiss your cheek and then down the column on your neck. “Koroleva (a queen),” she mumbled against your skin. She loved the shiver that went down your spine. “Made to sit on a throne.”

Your hands tangled in her hair and forced her lips against yours. Yelena was never religious. How could she be with everything endured? How was there a God if the Red Room existed? When you kissed her, held onto her so tightly that you were afraid you’d lose her, Yelena swore she saw God. You were her religion, and she would worship you every chance. You lifted yourself, pushed closer to Yelena, and deepened the kiss. And Gods, Yelena loved a woman who knew what she wanted.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Your arm around Yelena’s waist and held her tightly against your chest. The steady beating of your heart helped Yelena’s spiraling mind. “I think I want to go,” she knew you were up.

“Okay,” you mumbled sleepily and kissed the back of her head. “Whatever you want, baby.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were nervous. You were trying to hide it from Yelena because she seemed on edge the entire drive upstate. On the one hand, you could count the number of times you met the Avengers - those visits were mostly of Kate. The archer was the closest thing Yelena had to a friend outside the network of Widows. You liked her, though you liked Lucky more.

So you spent the drive filling the silence with your obnoxious signing. You even got Yelena to sing along, too. Her hand never left your thigh. It was like she needed a physical reminder that you were still there. “You know,” you broke the silence. “My mom would have loved you.” You felt your hand tense up, but you played with the rings on her finger. It helped her relax slightly.

It was rare that you spoke about your mother. She passed away when you were going through your master’s program. It was a sudden heart attack. Your father and younger brother rushed her to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t do anything. It still haunted you that you weren’t there to say goodbye. “Yeah?” Yelena questioned. “Do you think so?” You nodded.

“Yeah. All she wanted was for me to be happy, and you do that,” a small smile appeared. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. Yelena had yet to meet your family because they lived in Arizona.

“You make me happy too.” Her hand went back to your thigh. You knew it was huge for her to be vulnerable, so you kept quiet about it.

“Oh! Do you think there will be mac and cheese?” Yelena chuckled.

“I told Natalia I would not attend without mac and cheese.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“Sestra,” Natasha was outside to greet you and Yelena. “I thought you were ignoring us.” You heard Yelena huff and placed your hand on her lower back. Her body relaxed slightly.

“It is hard to ignore your big head.” The redhead rolled her eyes but pulled the blonde into a quick hug. At first, you worried about how her body tensed up at the sudden contact. Soon, she relaxed, which made you smile. The relationship between the two Black Widows was rocky.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Natasha turned her attention to you. “I much more appropriate clothing.” You shrugged but felt your body heat up. You were standing in Yelena’s kitchen in only a shirt.

“Not my best moment, but you should have knocked,” Natasha laughed.

“Yes, I should have. Come on,” the redhead threw her arm around her sister. “The party is just getting started.

Luckily, you spotted Kate right away, and she dragged you away from the Black Widow duo and into the bar. You weren’t the biggest drinker, but you knew you would need a drink to get through the night. Kate told you it was a celebration. The Avengers made a massive bust on a HYDRA facility trying to recreate the super soldier serum.

Yelena introduced you to the team once your drink was in your hand. You met Wanda, Vision, Tony, Sam, and Steve. Your girlfriend told you that Maria, Rhodey, and Bucky would be joining after they were cleared from medical. They were all super friendly, asked about your profession, and seemed to care about Yelena. So you were confused about why Yelena so desperately wanted to put up a wall between you and them. You knew she had her reasons for everything she did, but you could not figure this one out.

Somehow, America pressured you into a game of darts with Kate, Wanda, and Vision. Although the android mostly watched the game. You asked Yelena if she wanted to join, but she waved you off. She was in a group with her sister, Maria, and Tony. So you kissed her and followed the others to the game. You felt her eyes on your back.

When it wasn’t your turn, your gaze went to Yelena. It seemed impossible not to search for her. She was always on your mind, and you were drawn to her. For the past 6 months, you thought you knew her well. You knew when to push her to talk and back up when the conversation got heavy. You could make her laugh and smile, but tonight was different. Tonight was a version of Yelena you had not seen in a long time. Guarded.

She was wearing a mask. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure if you’d seen her smile the entire time you were at the compound. “You’re up,” Kate said. You almost missed the handoff of the darts because you were watching the blonde. “Come on. She’s fine. Stop looking at her with your big old heart eyes.” You scuffed and took the darts.

You missed your first throw. But Kate was wrong.

You missed your second. Something was wrong with Yelena.

You hit the bullseye on your third and final throw. “No shit!” America cheered. “See, I told you she would be good at this.” The celebration was short-lived when you looked at Yelena. The blonde slammed her drink down and stormed off. You hated that you were right.

“Excuse me,” you said to the group and went to follow your girlfriend—until Natasha blocked your path. “Move, " you told the older Black Widow.

“I would just give her time to cool off.” You blinked at the Avenger. There was no need to mask the confusion on your face. It was like she spoke a different language.

“What happened?” You questioned instead.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shook your head.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Natasha.” You pushed past her and followed the blonde outside. You saw her silhouette walking towards the dock that rested on a pound. You had half a mind to run after her, but you couldn’t risk falling, so you slowed your pace and allowed Yelena time to get her thoughts together.

Once you reached the dock, her body tensed up as she leaned against the wooden rails. Carefully, you walked over to her and stood behind her. It took a moment for her body to relax into you. You weren’t going to force her to talk about it. Sometimes, she needed a reminder that you were on her side. You rested your chin on her shoulder.

“Why are you dating me?” Come again? The question stumped you.

“What did you just ask me?” Yelena huffed and walked away from you. You allowed her to leave. “Yelena, what did they say to you?” She put her hands on her hips and paced. She mumbled something that you missed. “Tell me.”

“Stark doesn’t understand how someone like you is with someone like me,” you opened and closed your mouth, almost like a fish. “And he is right.”

“No,” you said firmly. “Stark is an idiot.” Yelena chuckled lightly, but she frowned.

“But everyone said it tonight,” her voice sounded so small. Gods, you wanted to punch all of those stupid Avengers. “So it must be true.”

It was taking you back to your high school days. So many people told you you were unlovable because of your size, that no one would want to handle all of your ‘assets, ' and that you weren’t beautiful because you didn’t look like other girls; however, this wasn’t about you. Slowly, you closed the distance.

“I am going to touch you, okay?” You wanted to give her an out. But she gave you a small nod; you almost missed it. You put your hands on her forearms, moving them up and down. It always amazed you how different your body types were. Finally, you moved your hands to either side of her neck.

“Listen to me, please,” you pleaded. “You make me so incredibly happy. You make me feel beautiful and seen. I am with you because I do not want to be with anyone else.” Yelena placed her hands on your wrist.

“I have done bad things.”

“You were a pawn in someone’s game,” you told her. You reminded her every single day that what she went through in the Red Room was not her fault. “No matter your past, I will always love you.” Yelena made a small noise that came from the back of her throat. You looked at her, confused.

“Did you mean to say that?” You reran the conversation in your head, and your eyes widened.

“Well, not exactly how I wanted to tell you, but that doesn’t make it less true,” Finally, Yelena smiled and allowed you to pull you into a hug. “You don’t have to say it back,” you reminded her. “Tell me when you are ready.” You felt her nod against you. “Oh!” Yelena pulled back to look at you. “I hit a bullseye! On my last throw!” It took a moment for her to realize what you were talking about.

“I am proud of you, Detka. " She kissed you softly. “Can we leave?” You smiled.

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were shocked that Yelena had you drive to the nearby motel. You left after a quick goodbye to Natasha and Kate. Yelena was oddly quiet during the ride as she looked out the window. You booked a room for the night and stood in the bathroom brushing your teeth. “They asked me to join the Avengers again,” Yelena said from the bed. You finished before you went out here. She was slowly brushing her hair.

There was a lot you wanted to say. You were furious with the group of heroes, but Yelena needed you to stay calm. “Are you?” You asked instead. The blonde shrugged.

“Feels like I have no choice,” you frowned and moved closer to the bed. You took the brush from her and took over, brushing her hair into two sections to braid it. Another thing you wanted to learn when you started dating Yelena was how to braid her hair. She was patient when she taught you.

“I saw they had room service, and I thought we deserved ice cream,” you saw Yelena’s body shake with laughter. “What flavor do you want?”

“Whatever you want.” It was the simple answer.

“Not what I asked, babe. " You kissed her shoulder and started to braid one section. “What do you want? What is your choice?” She understood your double meaning and couldn’t give an answer right away. But you gave her time, which allowed you to finish one section of hair.

“I do not want to join the Avengers,” her voice was soft. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, sweetheart,” you shook your head even though she couldn’t see it. “Your sense of worth isn’t tied to a group you belong to. You could stop fighting right now, and you would still be good,” she tensed up at the word, “You have a heart of gold, Yelena Belova. No matter what you think,” you finished the second braid. Yelena turned to look at you. Her lips pressed against yours softly.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now,” you stood up. “I was serious about the ice cream. What flavor do you want?” Yelena chuckled.

“Chocolate” A perfect choice.

_

Like I said in the beginning, I do have a part of two of this little story so let me know if you guys want to see more.

[juyeoz]

I’M RIGHT HERE — LEE RIWOO

SYNOPSIS — Riwoo knows crushing on his best friend’s sibling isn’t the best idea, and luckily for him, karma is able to show him that he is right.

PAIRING — dancer!riwoo x bsf-sibling-gn!reader (there’s not much on him dancing tbh)

CONTAINS — angst, mentions of break ups, crying, heavy unrequited love, it’s just sad tbh……..!

WORDCOUNT — 1006 words

NOTE — this was for my beloveds pftbz rhin and soph 🤍 right here by justin bieber also inspired this……….

Lee Riwoo knows finding his best friend’s sibling attractive is bad. Nevertheless, having feelings for her is even worse. He knows this is all a bad idea, but how can he help himself especially if you are sitting in front of him and crying?

The dance studio Riwoo is always in is quiet. The lights are dimmed and your glossy eyes are shining in his face. He has no clue why you’re feeling so emotional, and yet he still feels terrible. 

“What’s wrong?” Riwoo asks, hesitating to reach his hand out and thumb away your tears.

If there is another thing Riwoo knows about you, it is definitely your relationship with your significant other. So, what if he does the wrong move and weirds you out? What will your significant other do to him if they ever found out about his possible action?

It’s another reason why he keeps his distance from you and forces him to suppress his feelings that threaten to arise.

He knows you’re a bad idea and that he should stay away from you, but he can’t. Riwoo physically cannot bring himself to do such a thing. 

You greet him with such excitement whenever he appears beside your brother, Sungho, only giving him more hope that he has a chance with you.

However, the day you run into him leaving the dance studio after another successful solo practice, things change. Riwoo’s possible chances disappear at the sight of the person beside you — your new significant other.

Everything that he believed was hope was nothing more than false.

It’s over for Riwoo. There’s no way he can get another chance to be with you within his time of knowing you. Eventually, you two will drift away and you’ll be known as Sungho’s sibling once again while he is known as just the boy Sungho is friends with. The one that often appears at your house to hangout with your brother. 

The one who Sungho constantly boasts about because he believes Riwoo is very talented. However, to himself he will always be the one who fell in love with you at first sight.

Clearly, this is a thought that crosses Riwoo’s mind often. However, the moment he found out you were taken, it stopped making its rounds in his head. 

Brief silent moments are full with your constant sniffles and the faint sound of the song Riwoo is choreographing to playing in the background. 

He waits and waits for your response, not wanting to rush someone in such a weak state.

“We broke up.” 

Your voice leaves your mouth weakly as his brows perk up your words. 

What do you mean?

“We broke up and I don’t know why.” Your tears continue to stream down your face at a faster speed than before.

Without a second thought, Riwoo’s hands cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears using his thumbs. 

You lower your own arms, your wrists tired from rubbing at your eyes every second tears threaten to fall, and cry.

Despite Riwoo knowing that doing this is a bad idea, he can’t leave you feeling vulnerable. If he does, Sungho will come after him. There’s no doubt about it.

The thought of having a chance barely crosses his mind. It makes a split second appearance but doesn’t distract him for long.

He spaces out with his eyes still on you, but nothing is heard through his ears. 

It’s silent. 

Almost like a ringing sound.

He leans back onto the wall behind him, pulling you into his chest in the process. Riwoo doesn’t care if his shirt gets wet by your tears and possible snot. Who would during such a moment?

In this position, he occasionally rubs circles on your back and plays with your hair in a comforting way.

He only cares if a hug will make you feel better. He wants to see you smile instead of frown and bawl your eyes out. 

The opposite is the last thing he wants to see.

Disregarding that, it’s obvious that not everything is in Riwoo’s favour because the last thing he will forever want to hear suddenly leaves your lips.

“I still want to…” 

Your voice gets muffled in his chest, leaving the boy confused. 

“What did you say?” He asks while running his hand up and down the back of your head. 

“Be with them. I still want to be with them.” You repeat with such certainty in your voice. With that said, it’s obvious that you see Riwoo as a friend or even a shoulder to cry on and nothing more.

He tenses at your words, his movements halting for a brief second as regret settles in his system.

Riwoo regrets his question. He is better off not hearing such a thing escape your lips. Clearly, his feelings for you are nothing more than an unnecessary distraction from how he should really see you.

A friend. Or even worse, just Sungho’s sibling.

Is this karma hitting him for thinking he ever had a chance to make you his? Is this one of his out-of-this-world thoughts that he can’t reach?

Is it his fault for letting himself get so close to you even while knowing you are a bad idea?

It’s not his fault he can’t walk away, right? You have him hooked around your finger and you never thought of him the same way.

Riwoo should have known the moment he found out you were Sungho’s sibling that you’d be out of his reach. 

Still, he let his heart and feelings get the best of him.

Whatever, this current moment isn’t about him. He should focus on making sure you feel better about your whole break up.

His own breakdown can wait until he is ready for it — which is hopefully, never.

With a sigh, Riwoo pulls you in closer as his embrace tightens, fighting back the urges to not say his next words. But to his dismay, he fails and says them anyway.

“I’m right here. It’s okay, you can cry.” 

© JUYEOZ

BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz @hollxe1 @r1kification @mensisim @mydearyeseo @sunghxxnie @taesanfav @wonzzziezzzz @ijustwannareadstuff20

[megapteraurelia]

comfortable silence — part 2.

summary | kozume kenma and gn!reader are just really bad at tiptoeing around their feelings for each other, tbh. warnings | none! just super fluff if you don't have a sweet tooth. (the barest tiniest grain of molecule of angst if you squint hard enough) word count | 1360. a/n | i still very much love kenma. i actually didn't plan on the ending but then decided to roll with it :o i hope that this holds up with what anon wanted T_T so sorry if i completely butchered it!! please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´- part 1 to be found: here.

“you forgot your book.”

the muscles in your hands locked as you were leafing through the documents the teacher had given you. you were staying behind after the last class of the day — most, if not all, of the other desks, were cleared off the other students’ belongings.

you knew that kenma was supposed to be at volleyball practice, yet there he was at the entrance of your classroom, still in his school uniform. you didn’t even hear his steps when he came closer to drop the book onto your desk, even though you were watching him shorten the distance between you.

and just like that, the air suddenly felt awkward and charged. 

you refused to look at him but felt his gaze trained on you, roving from the top of your head over your hair to your neck and shoulders, going further down to your fingers to note how tightly you gripped the sheets of paper.

you knew that if you reclined your head and looked up to the side, you’d meet the curious and vigilant widening of his pupils, the little cock of his head, his blonde-coloured hair crossing his field of vision like a curtain. 

but you also knew that if you were to look at him, you’d want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. his eyes would remind you of how he averted his gaze every time you looked at him after you had entered his personal space and kissed his cheek, of how he had grown quieter than usual. 

“thanks, i didn’t mean to...forget it,” you mumbled, fingertips caressing the paper for a change of sensation, to forget the tension in your pulled-up shoulders.

“yeah.”

he didn’t move. you didn’t move. it was embarrassing. it was intimate. 

it was the way he was standing close to you, neither of you talking; the air pregnant with even more things left unsaid than before, the afternoon sun shining through the windows, painting everything in a light that said i’m here to make memories. the opened window sent a light breeze and the clock ticked in the background, the bell chiming in harmony to signal the start of a new period, yet he made no moves to get to practice.

instead, the only thing that changed in motion was a steady blush crawling over your skin at the silent presence next to you, at the golden sheen on the paper in your hands that made it difficult to escape the golden of his eyes.

“kenma.”

“hm?”

you forced your eyes shut, forcing the words through your lips, every letter burning your tongue and wishing to be left hidden, “i didn’t mean to do that. it kind of...just happened. i didn’t mean to make it weird or anything.”

you couldn’t even mention the stupid kiss, and you don’t think you needed to. you were sure that kenma was more than capable of understanding what you meant, yet he still didn’t say anything, still close enough for you to smell him, still just standing there, hands twitching at his sides as he gripped his phone tightly yet kept it closed and turned off lest anybody of his teammates could try to spam him with calls to get his attention.

you hesitantly glanced up a little bit, seeing the open collar, the lazy knot of his tie, and just a bit higher: the sharp line of his chin, the soft caress of the tip of his hair strands, the uncertain press of his lips together — and just as quickly as your gaze was going to search his, as fast it dropped again at the reminder.

another avalanche of nonsense tumbled through your mouth and out into the world, “i mean, i was just— i don’t know. i wasn’t thinking and then i’ve already— i don’t— and i’m making this super awkward, n—ugh.”

your face was burning, teeth digging into your lower lip. there you went and made a whole fool of yourself, and would the ground please just open up and swallow you?

“uh, it’s fine,” came the response, soft-spoken and nervous, almost too quiet in comparison to the thunderous beat of your heart, so you had to look up to him if only to connect his words with the movement of his mouth. 

meeting his eyes and knowing he was studying you intently with his eyes, catching each shiver running down your back, each whitening of a knuckle, the gulp of your throat swallowing despite your mouth completely dried out — it sent another flash of mortification through you. the golden of his eyes were competing with the rays of the sun, attentive as usual.

hesitantly, you asked, “are you uncomfortable?”

“not really.”

again with that assured tone of voice, yet still carrying elusive words, evading questions and assumptions. the wind blew softly again, hugging your skin, but it made no difference to the heaviness sitting between you, didn’t blow away the expectations racking up for something you weren’t even sure existed outside of your head. 

your neck started hurting at looking up from the side, so you went back to staring at the long-forgotten documents in your hands, the book he brought to you — just another pretense, another excuse that felt safe to hide behind. 

your voice was still meek, “really?”

in lieu of an answer, he instead moved from your side to stand in front of you, leaning forward in such a certain manner that seemed so at odds to the usual lethargy he carried around. your perception was long used up to note all the tiny details and minimalistic gestures that you barely had any left to understand what was happening until it was happening. 

a timid meeting of lips and skin again. the corner of your mouth warming up at the contact, the closeness of his face, his half-lidded eyes reading you, his nose kissing yours, and then he stepped back again, one hand going up to rub his neck to relieve his nervousness. 

he took your breath away. 

kenma in normal lighting was already pretty, but flustered kenma bathed in the sheen of the afternoon glow with deep pink stealing itself on his cheeks and across his nose, eyebrows drawn over intense gold, teeth worrying his mouth was gorgeous. his voice murmured, almost sheepishly, “i guess i’ve been thinking about it too.”

you stared at him; your face in the same shade of red, breathless, heart stuttering like mad. by his accelerated quiet breathing you could only guess that the same type of adrenaline was rushing through him. 

a beat of silence, and then both of you blurting out at the same time:

“i have to go—” 

“i like you. lots.”

like a deer caught in headlights, he finished his sentence dazedly as his ears registered your words,”—to...prac...tice.”

more silence with the leaves rustling outside. more staring at each other as if blinking would make this real. more of red cheeks, red ears, red necks, red, red, red. the air was brimming with all the vibrations of emotions ready to spill over, and before you could scramble to apologise, to run away, to destroy the bud of a flower before it was even able to bloom, kenma reached out and took the book on your desk.

he used it to point towards the door, yet glanced away from you, the blonde strands falling into his eyes; his voice quiet and hesitant, “i forgot what you just said. you also forgot this book at my home. so, you have to— you— should come pick it up later. when practice is done.”

you blinked, and then nodded, “okay then.”

he left in a hurry unlike him, similar to the way you rushed away from him in search of water a couple of days ago at his house. head bowed with golden eyes studying the ground, wiping his hands on the grey pants, a small and unbelieving smile hidden behind the curtain of blonde, skin on fire, though you weren’t better off. 

leaning back in your chair, hiding your face from the world, you thought that water would be really good right now.

[rainytapestry]

⭑｡𖦹°‧ㅤㅤBLUE ㅤ— ㅤㅤjay x f.reader ㅤㅤ wc 0.7k

where your boyfriend always knows a way to make your worries melt away

★ — hurt/comfort angst estd. relation fluff academic pressure :( jay being the sweetest bf

you looked at all the books and notes spread out in front of you, and the painfully waiting cursor of the blank document, as if urging you to start the assignment. but it felt… all too much, too overwhelming for you to even think about your pending works.

and before you knew it, a tear dropped down on the page, staining your messy handwriting. good here it goes again. you were tired of feeling tensed and worried about your studies.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapid knocks and the bell. you turned to look at the time, 11pm. who could it even be at this late hour?

sighing, you got up to open the door before the person could ring the bell once more, only to be met with a very familiar face.

‘jay...? what are you doing here at this hour?’ you asked, unsure of how to approach the fact that your boyfriend was in front of your apartment at near midnight. the said boy who was standing quite tensed your doorstep, visibly frowned upon seeing you

‘yn, i was worried tensed! why did you not pick up my calls? you even left me on seen?! do you know how stressful that was? wait, are you…’ he trailed, finally getting a proper look at your face.

oh shit you had forgotten that your tears hadn't dried yet and he was met with a red and blotchy face.

jay quickly stepped into the apartment, his hands going up to your face, softly holding them.

‘what… happened?’ his voice was laced with concern. ‘uh, you were worried, for me?’ you refused to meet his eyes.

‘of course, babe! you are usually so active and present but all i have got are just a few messages and no calls, i thought you were sick!’ and his eyes held this earnest look, that almost made you want to start sobbing again.

as if sensing your emotions, he engulfed you in a hug and before you knew it, you were in his arms, tearing up yet again, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

‘i… i– i am sick, of this work and study and…’ you spoke through your tears, ‘jay, i don't think i can do this anymore, i feel so-so tired, it's…’ you could feel him rub small soothing circles on your back, nodding to your every word and never interrupting you, as if you could vent out all the frustration and pressure you had building in you.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly calmed you down as you broke apart to look up at him, with a small pout. you mumbled a small sorry.

jay broke out in a smile, caressing your cheek, ‘it's okay, yn, you've been so strong and dedicated. it’s okay to let yourself catch a break, hm? it's okay to feel sad and unmotivated sometimes, right? because i know you can do it.’

‘b-but i’ ‘ssh, i trust you.’ and maybe that was all you needed to hear.

you could feel a small smile form on your face, heart a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. and you couldn't thank jay enough for it.

‘okayyy now let's see how my girlfriend is doing, secluding herself like a saint, tell me the last time you had eaten, yn?’ he questioned you in a serious tone. you knew how serious he could get if you neglected your meals.

‘eh, yesterday i think…?’ ‘i'm pretty sure it was ramen.’ you guiltily nodded.

jay shook his head, not surprised but placed a firm kiss on your forehead. ‘ok, so, you, my girl, are going to sit down and relax while i make you something healthy and edible to eat. okay?’ he said, more like commanded.

you blushed at his actions before following him to the kitchen.

it was a common routine you both had fallen into, jay would cook, you would, well… try to assist.

and even though, jay protested about you helping him, you shrugged him off, just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

‘and from now on, yn, please don't ghost me like this. i'm always here for you, love’, whispered close to your ears, pressing another small kiss to your cheek.

NOTES. hi i wrote this down cuz of the high level of procrastination and unproductivity ive been having despite my finals starting in a month :( it isnt the best feeling and i for anyone else who's going through the same, don't worry we'll get through this rough patch together >< tysm for reading this

div cttoㅤㅤ work belong to @ rainytapestry do not steal

[antoncyng]

౨{ 성한빈 }ৎ ..𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘

• 𝑺ynopsis ; after hanbin’s death over tour, you start receiving messages from his number, thinking it was a sick joke, you ignored them. but one message eventually caught your eye, was this really him?

( 성한빈 ) 𓆩♡𓆪. 𝑭 ! reader wc 2.2k (shocker) genre angst with no happy ending, fluff if you squint, pretty much just really sad warning (𝒔) heavy mention of death, mentions of depression and struggle eating, petnames used { 💌 } note from 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒊 hello this is my first time writing angst or writing a full fic in general in so long so i’m very sorry if this is lowk horrible.. i definitely tried 🥲 not proofread btw!! i’m too lazy

𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬! send feedback & reblog ♡

♪ 𝑷LAYING ( 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 ) by 재현 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

“ 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀, tell me your favorite love song “

he sang through the phone, watching his fingers lightly strum the strings of his guitar, his voice angelic as it hit your side of the line. you hated this, having to call everytime you missed him instead of being able to go downstairs and see his face in front of you, his presence in yours.

you loved how happy he was with his job and his members, how he loved them like family and even introduced you to them, but you hated how it caused him to have to be busy or overseas so constantly. what if something were to happen to him? you couldn’t run over there and be his hero while he was thousands of miles away.

“ 𝐈 wanna sing it with you “

how was it possible? his voice so angelic, your eyes were already getting heavy, the song just started. you couldn’t sleep yet, you told him you would talk to him all night, it was only 9 pm for him.

you wanted to stay awake, you really tried, even if hanbin told you it was okay to sleep first. but your plan didn’t go to work as you slowly fell asleep to the sound of his voice, his fingertips brushing against the strings of his guitar.

“𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀, show me the streets where you come from “

he sang, hearing his own voice softly leave his throat. he also hated this. as much as he loved seeing his fans and singing on stage, he loved being able to protect you with every step you take while being right by your side even more. he knew the day was coming, he felt weaker and weaker.

but why couldn’t he tell you? you should know, out of everybody closest to him, you deserve to know the most. but something in him couldn’t bring himself to break the news to you, he knew soon enough it would be too late, but it still didn’t encourage him to find the heart to tell you. instead, it discouraged him even more. he couldn’t handle seeing you cry, watching your heart reach out for him as your time together ran thin.

“ 𝐈 wanna walk them with you “

his voice nearly cracked. ‘i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.’ was all that could be said in his head as he watched your chest move up and down slowly, your eyes closed shut as you slept peacefully. he couldn’t help but feel the weight of guilt only get heavier. his heart was hurting, reaching out for comfort from you.

the thing he wanted most right now was to be by your side. hugging you in your sleep until you felt protected in his arms. he hated the thought of leaving you for good, leaving you to become vulnerable to all the harsh realities in the world, leaving you alone and scared without him there to protect you and tell you everything will be okay with him by your side. because he won’t, he won’t be there by your side.

who’s gonna remind you that everything will be okay? why do things have to end like this? why does this world have to be so so cruel?

“ 𝐓ell me right from the start “

everything was going so perfect. you just hit your one and a half year anniversary, even if you had to celebrate together over facetime. it felt like a dream of where you two were right now.

he was so perfect for you, you two were convinced you were each others soulmates. he blamed himself for everything, why couldn’t he have worked harder to stop the sickness? why did he let the ill feeling take over his power? he felt himself get weaker as he gently strum the strings of his guitar, tears blurring his eyes as he paused to look up, preventing them from falling.

he looked back forward, seeing the dark city view from his hotel window, and all he could do was pray. his guitar sitting in his lap, you sleeping on the other line of the phone, he prayed that nights like this would stay longer. he prayed that he could forever stay by your side, protecting you constantly even if he wasn’t there to be next to you physically.

‘i love you so much, angel, forever and always. sleep well’ he whispered under his breath, watching you sleep peacefully, hopefully dreaming about him and your guys future, smiling sympathetically as slow tears rolled down his cheeks before ending the facetime.

“ 𝐓ell me who you are “

the day of zerobaseone’s last concert in Bangkok was about to start, backstage putting in their in-ears as they warmed up their voices and stretched their limbs. hanbin was seen texting you in the corner, smiling at your messages.

but nobody knew how hanbin was feeling. he wanted to apologize and break down to all of his members right there, get on his knees and beg for forgiveness for having to leave them so soon. he felt his body weaken, his head already pounding and light headed as if he could faint any minute, but he kept it in.

tears welt up in his eyes as he cleared his throat and looked up, blinking before anybody could see him.

“hanbin-ah! what are you doing in the corner?!” he turned his head, hearing zhanghao call his name, seeing all of them grouped in a circle. zhanghao signaled for him to join in to chant before the concert started. he left you a quick text, sending an ‘i love you’, feeling guilty because that would be the last text you got from him. was it really?

he joined in, smiling at the feel of his second family, putting his hand in as he started the encouragement, leaving everyone with a smile before lining up to get on stage.

“ 𝐄very piece of your heart “

the concert had been going well, hanbin feeling the overwhelming love from his fans as he looked at all of the crowd, his eyes welting up with tears as ‘HELLO’ began to play. members walking all around the stage in different outfits now, hanbin smiling emotionally at the sight of the amount of people who came all this way just to support him and his group.

he felt it coming, he knew it was soon. he lifted his mic to sing, opened his mouth as he was ready to hear his voice come out, and that’s when everything went black.

his voice stuck in his throat, trying to clear it as he heard muffled sounds shouting out for him, his eyes shutting closed as he fell unconscious to the floor, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as tears rolled from his closed eyes. why did this have to be the end? why did he have to be harshly taken away from the people he loved the most? and right in front of them? he wanted to wake up, tell everyone he was okay and continue to sing. but instead, he got taken backstage and given cpr, trying to find a pulse until the ambulance arrived.

“𝐄very bruise and scar.”

he laid in the hospital bed as all he could hear was the heart monitor beeping. he couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t open his mouth to tell his sobbing members that he’ll be okay, guilty knowing deep he wouldn’t be okay.

“ 𝐈 wanna know “

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 of death: 11:36 PM, 02/02/25.

‘why? why couldn’t you tell me? why did you have to leave so soon? why did it have to end like this?’ you said, sobbing into the voicemail box to hanbin’s number. hearing the news from jiwoong, your heart shattered, feeling like you just got brutally stabbed and turning the knife.

‘we were so happy, we told each other everything. you told me you had nothing to hide, so why did you lie? you hid this from me, it doesn’t protect me sung hanbin, you’re only hurting me worse. why can’t it be fake? why can’t you be here with me?’ you managed to break out from your throat, your sobs heard through the phone.

how were you gonna do this without him? how could you live freely knowing the person who made you a better human everyday, is now gone? why did he have to be taken so suddenly? and the worst part is, you couldn’t even see him. no matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t have to money nor time to fly. it hurt, it hurt like it never has before. your mind hazed with thoughts and feelings, praying that this was all just a dream.

“ 𝐄verything there is to know “

news spread, fast. news articles were made, reading the official announcement the company posted hurt like the knife was twisting even more. like a refresh of memories you didn’t want to recall.

you stayed in bed for days, crying everyday and hoping you would wake up from this hell of a dream. you barely texted anybody back, nor even checked social medias in fear of seeing his face and recalling the phone call you got from jiwoong.

you could barely eat, your weight loss worryingly visible, you knew hanbin would hate to see you like this. but that’s the thing, he wasn’t even there to see you struggling this bad. you resented him for abandoning you like this in a cruel cruel world, but you loved him so dearly. scrolling through the photos of you two together everyday, wishing that everything would come back to normal and that you would wake up with him next to you again.

“ 𝐃on’t you dare leave nothing out “

and that’s when you saw it. a text notification from ‘hanbini ♡’. how is that possible? you’re dreaming, you’re seeing things, someone is pranking you. was it yujin? was he worrying about you so much that he took hanbin’s phone to text you? that little prankster, you hoped he was doing okay. hanbin was like a parent to him, you wondered how he was doing losing someone this important at his age.

hanbini ♡: please eat angel

hanbini ♡: i’m so so sorry for leaving you

hanbini ♡: don’t beat yourself up because of me. please take care of yourself

the texts kept coming. how was this possible? someone hacked his phone, it’s not him. but then again, how would they know you haven’t eaten? you haven’t been outside for days, you don’t text anyone, and you haven’t brought yourself to take any pictures for hackers to see, how could you? was it really him?

as much as you tried to ignore the texts, they kept coming. tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to ignore them swipe away every single notification the came, until one made you freeze before you could swipe it away.

hanbini ♡: i understand you don’t want to talk to me, but please read these.

hanbini ♡: meet me at our tree, please give it a chance to see me y/n.

our tree. the words echoed in your head as you tried to process the words you read on the text. it had to be him. nobody else knew about your guy’s spot, it was a secluded small forest that nobody would ever go to, the entrance blocked off and covered by bushes and trees, only you two knew the way in.

this was a meaningful spot for you guys, it’s where hanbin asked you to be his girlfriend on a picnic while watching the sunset. how could you ever forget?

you went. you called yourself crazy in your head for believing the texts, but you went. you couldn’t stop yourself, because what if it really was him? this could be your last chance to see him again.

“ 𝐈’m gonna love you completely “

the song played in your ears as you walked. a mask covering your face and a hood covering your head, it’s been days since you came outside since the incident.

making your way into the secluded forest, memories flooded back. your eyes teared up as your heart started hurting, but you stayed strong and kept walking. smelling the scent of the air, something about it was different. the air was soft but thicker, as if someone’s presence was with you. was this a sign?

you made it to the tree and only saw emptiness, you should’ve known. that was until a black cat came up to you, how could this be? the area is bordered off enough for humans to know not to come in, how would an animal come through? was this a sign from hanbin? you always wanted a baby black cat to raise as your own, you were planning to adopt one before hanbin got back from tour, that didn’t end very well..

you crouched down, petting and stroking the cat gently as i purred, nuzzling it’s face against your knee with closed eyes. you looked at it closely, something in it’s personality and eyes felt familiar. you heard a voice, hanbin’s voice.

‘i love you angel, forever and always.’

he always said it, it was like his catchphrase in your guy’s very own show. this time, it was a whisper. you heard his voice speak to you again, your head turning up to the sky, your eyes welling with tears as they slowly dripped down your face.

‘if i had one more day, i would find you again.’

{ 💌 } note from 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒊 ! you made it to the endddd!! this fic is either actually sad or horrible and funny because it’s not sad at all but whatever. i have never written a full fic this long so i hope it’s good but ik there’s a lot of repetitive parts.. ignore that! my vocabulary isn’t very big i am not the smartest. anyways thank you for reading:) i love u!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @ourhees @miumura @leehsngs @saemisic @macapunoz @cupidhoons

[dollyxd]

Shivers in the precense of your aura...gojo x reader angst/comfort wher user is sprialling perchance.....or where reader has a nightmare....just any gojo x reader fic where reader gets comfort....i need it....

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　I'm here for you　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Satoru Gojo x GN!Reader

Summary: You have a terrible nightmare, oh no! The nightmare felt so real you went to go seek Satoru Gojo's comfort.

Warnings: Angst to fluff, comfort at the end, very angsty, negative thoughts, overwhelmed reader, gender neutral reader, a bit ooc(?), established relationship, mentions of blood and death.

Authors Note: Haha, no need to shiver of my presence, I'm not scary! I'm glad to take this request, I decided ill merge the ideas together! Nightmare to spiraling to comfort! Ah, I apologize if I got the definition of spiraling wrong by the way. I kind of wrote this on what happens with me when I wake up from nightmares... Anyways enjoy! (My back hurts Sos)

It wasn't rare for you to stay at your boyfriend's house, hell it was almost every day you would stay over. You guys would have sleepovers often but today was just awful for you... some of your coworkers kept snickering at you, telling you to do so much stuff. You weren't even supposed to be doing those stuff for crying out loud! And then you spilled your drink on your favorite white shirt, then you hurt your ankle... today was just terrible for you.

So, once you got (To Gojo's) home, you were drained, mentally, emotionally, and all of the above. All you wanted to do was just lay down and sleep for eternity. You set your bag down, and take off your shoes, and just plopped down on the couch with an "oof."

You felt your eyes grow heavy, but before you could fall asleep you heard the door open and your boyfriends voice echo through the house. "I'm home!" Satoru sang song. You let out an exhausted sigh before saying "Hi, baby." You sat up on the couch to look at him.

He looked over at you, he almost immediately knew something was up, it's almost kind of scary on how much he knows when something is up. "Hey, what's wrong, sweets?" Satoru asked, walking towards you.

If you're being honest with yourself, you didn't want to talk about it to him. You didn't want him to worry so much about you, and you would most definitely start breaking down when you start explaining. You swallowed to hold back the lump in your throat and just give Gojo a smile.

"I'm fine! Just a little tired, didn't get much sleep last night." You rub the back of your neck giving a sheepish smile to him. But Satoru knew better than that, he knows you. Though he lets you off the hook for now and just sighs and rubs your head.

"If you say so, you know I'm here for you right?" He said with a twinge of concern in his voice. You lean into Gojo's touch, you felt a slight relief knowing the comfort of Gojo still being there. You look back at him before nodding, "Yes, dear, I know." You confirm to him. Giving him a comforting smile.

He smiles back at you and kisses your temple. The feeling of it lingered for a bit. After a few minutes you decided to tell Gojo that you're going to go to bed a bit early. You went to go do your nightly routine and change into your pajamas, and FINALLY lay down and sleep. You felt sleep overtake you, and soon enough you were out like a light.

You were in the snow... wait, why are you in the snow!? You looked down at yourself only to see you had clothing that were not fit for winter! You grab your arms with your ice-cold hands and finally found the strength to stand up.

You looked around wondering how you got here and most importantly HOW you got here! You start walking through the cold air, if you had to guess the temperature it was most likely in the negatives.

The more you kept walking the weaker you got; it got to the point where you couldn't walk anymore, and you fell to your knees. You were cold, shivering, tired. You wouldn't be surprised if you were somehow bleeding out. You just wanted for death to take you at this point. there was no hope for you. But before you could even die peacefully you felt something sharp in your rib cage.

GASP. You grab your chest, as you breath heavily. You felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You look around your room to see that you were just in your room the whole time. You felt a twinge of relief knowing you're still home. You grabbed your phone to check the time 3:04am.

You let out a sigh, your heart still beating heavy. As much as you didn't want to make Gojo worried, you needed the comfort from him. After staring off in space for a few, you get up from your bed, with heavy and tired feet and start heading towards Gojo's room.

Once you knock on the door you started to rethink; was what you're doing being to childish and petty? Would Satoru get annoyed at you for waking him up hours? Before you could walk away the door opens, and you see a sleepy gojo.

"Eh? What's wrong, babe?" Gojo, yawned and rubbed his eye. You looked down at the ground clenching your fist before folding your arms. Those tears that were once threatening finally were released.

Gojo was taken aback and started to worry "Woah, woah, what's wrong?" Gojo asked, grabbing your hand in a gentle manner. You sniffle a bit trying to find your voice, "I-... Ugh! Today was just awful! And now I had a nightmare, and-" Gojo cut you off pulling you in a tight embrace, petting your head to soothe you.

"It's alright, take a moment to breath." Gojo then slowly led you to the bed and sat down beside you. He was always patient with you, he may be annoying, but, oh, how he was so gentle and kind to you. You wouldn't really know how you got so lucky, but you were so happy lucky was on your side to get someone like him.

You take a deep breath in, tears finally stopped streaming down your face. Gojo took notice in your calmer state and said, "Do, you want to talk about it?" He slowly asked. You hum softly, thinking about what Gojo asked. You took a deep breath, "Can-... Can I talk about it later?" Gojo smiles softly at you

"Of course, whatever makes you feel better." Gojo confirms to you. Before you could even say another word, it was as if he read your mind and opened his arms just enough for you to snuggle up to.

You hide your face in his chest and feel your body finally relax after what felt like forever. Gojo snakes his arms around your waist and drags you down on the bed to lay down with him. He let put a content sigh.

You felt your eyes grow heavy again, though this time, you felt safe, as if everything evil was gone and non-existent. Before you let sleep take you, you mumbled out a soft and quiet, "I love you, Toru." That was the last thing you said before letting sleep take you to dreamland.

Gojo smiles sweetly and chuckles to himself. He moved hair away from your face, kissing your forehead softly and staying, "I'm always here for you, I love you too, baby."

[ebodebo]

okay I mainly want to know about er doctor!simon, the red means I love you and salt in the wound😝😝

hii so for er doc!simon, essentially, i just need him stressed out, hands combing through his greying hair, while he makes his way to the er to see you and all the nurses & techs whisper about how they hope they’re on his rotation BAD. i have no further dialogue to give you a peak, but TRUST it’s coming<33

the red means i love you is what i have planned for a third installation of stalker!simon. i don't have too much because i, of course, still need to do the second part…but this concept was really interesting to me.

salt to the wound is the fic i’ve been putting most of my efforts into. it’s some good old no-comfort angst i’ve been working on for a couple of weeks. it’s taking way longer than intended because i want to convey so much emotion and have it be in-depth. i don't want to give away too much, so here’s just a smidge of dialogue!

"Johnny's dead."

The only words that flowed through the phone line.

The very words you had selfishly cursed for the past year and a half.

The words that had single-handedly eroded everything you had built with your Simon.

Because that day, on every level except physical, the Simon you knew had died with Johnny.

His mind merged with the very soil Johnny lay in, leaving his physical body on the surface while his soul wandered beyond your grasp.

So out of touch, so disconnected from reality.

Simon had become a shell of a human.

He wasn't living, merely surviving—going through the motions.

It was devasting to watch the man for whom you gave your heart to slowly disengage right before your eyes.

Bit by bit, piece by piece.

Until there was no more man left to see.

Just mere flesh and bones.

It was such unfamiliar territory since Simon relied on you as he relied on oxygen to breathe.

You were his sustenance, his reservoir.

An eternal flame that burned with an unyielding passion.

Now it seems he couldn't get far enough away from you.