#and with these car issues I’m having I feel like I’m just falling apart
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carnalcrows · 1 day ago
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I'VE BEEN A GOOD BOY OFFICER - HWANG JUN-HO
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pairing: traffic police! junho x trans male reader
synopsis: "When a midnight speeding ticket turns into a lesson in creative payments, Officer Jun-ho finds himself issuing a warning he never saw coming."
content warnings: 18+, blowjobs, semi-public sex, hair pulling, face-fucking, driving over the speed limit, facial.
word count: - 1.4k
A/N: the request: link
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It was a quiet night on the Seoul streets, the kind that lulls most into a false sense of security. You, however, weren’t most people. The hum of your motorcycle slicing through the silence was a thrill you couldn’t resist. That is, until the flash of red and blue lights cut through the night like a bad omen.
You groaned under your breath as you slowed to a stop. “Of course,” you muttered.
The officer approaching your bike was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfortunately for you, painfully good-looking. His uniform fit just a little too well, the crisp lines accentuating his sharp jawline and piercing eyes. He didn’t even need to say anything before you felt like you were already caught.
“License and registration,” he said in a tone that was both authoritative and tired.
You pulled off your helmet, your messy hair falling into place as you gave him your most disarming smile. “About that... I, uh, might’ve left my wallet at home.”
He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No ID, speeding in the middle of the night, and you think a smile’s going to fix this?”
“Well,” you said, leaning on your handlebars, “it’s a pretty good smile.”
His lips twitched, but he held his composure. “That’s not how this works. What’s your name?”
“Why, Officer Jun-ho,” you teased, catching a glimpse of his name badge, “I didn’t realize we were on a first-name basis.”
He let out a deep sigh, clearly trying to maintain his patience. “Look, if you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to come down to the station.”
“No wallet, no cash,” you said with a shrug, leaning back. “But maybe I can... offer something else?”
Jun-ho froze, his jaw tightening. “Are you serious?”
“Depends,” you replied, smirking. “Am I getting arrested, or are you going to hear me out?”
His expression was unreadable as he studied you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, interest, or maybe exasperation.
“Follow me,” he finally said, turning on his heel and walking toward the patrol car.
“Where are we going?” you asked, trailing behind.
“Just shut up and walk,” he muttered, though his ears were turning red.
Before you knew it, he had guided you to a secluded alley nearby. Jun-ho turned to face you, his expression half-irritated, half-uncertain. “What exactly are you offering?”
You stepped closer, dropping your voice to a teasing whisper. “You really don’t know?”
His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you closed the gap between you, brushing your lips against his in a slow, deliberate kiss.
For a moment, Jun-ho was as still as a statue, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Then, as if a switch flipped, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with surprising fervor, all traces of professionalism thrown out the window.
The kiss was messy, desperate, and absolutely electric. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your sides as if anchoring himself to reality. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss and earning a low, breathy sound from him that made your knees weak.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his face flushed and his uniform slightly rumpled.
“That’s one way to pay a fine,” you quipped, grinning.
Jun-ho groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m definitely losing my job for this.”
“Worth it, though,” you said, tapping his chest. “Right, Officer?”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Jun-ho’s chuckle died as you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his uniform. His breathing hitched when you tugged him closer by the collar, your smirk daring him to resist. Spoiler: he didn’t.
“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this, Officer,” you teased, your voice low and teasing against his lips.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Always,” you replied, leaning in again, and this time, the kiss was even hungrier.
Jun-ho responded instantly, his lips capturing yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips like he was trying to ground himself, while your own fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly and earning a muffled groan that sent a shiver down your spine.
The alley, dim and secluded, felt like it belonged to just the two of you. The world outside blurred into irrelevance as Jun-ho pressed you back against the cool brick wall, the solid surface a stark contrast to the heat between you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers tugging his hair again. “And here I thought you were the strict, by-the-book type.”
Jun-ho pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and want. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the way his thumb brushed against your cheek said otherwise.
“You like it,” you shot back, your smirk returning as you looped your arms around his neck.
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, as if savoring every second. His hands roamed your sides, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you’d vanish if he let go.
The kiss deepened, and you lost track of time, the midnight air cool against your skin while Jun-ho’s warmth was all-consuming. By the time you pulled apart again, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces flushed, and his uniform slightly askew.
Jun-ho rested his forehead against yours, his lips twitching in what might have been an embarrassed smile. “This is... not how I imagined my shift going.”
“Best shift you’ve ever had, though,” you teased, your voice still breathless.
“Debatable,” he muttered, though the small, fond smile on his face betrayed him.
You pressed another kiss to his swollen lips before slowly sinking to your knees, while unbuckling his belt.
His breath grew ragged as you gently pulled out his aching length from the confinement of his boxers. 
“Such a pretty dick,” you cooed, before kissing the tip and licking a stripe down the long vein from his girth to the head. He threw his head back, relishing the feeling of your tongue on his cock.
Soon, you swallow him whole, bobbing your head up and down his length, while your hand reaches up to cup his balls, filled with his load.
You other hand unbuttons you own pants, pressing a finger onto your aching clit, rubbing slow, calculative circles around it.
‘You seemed to know what you were doing,’ Jun-ho thought to himself, with a striking realization that you might’ve sucked his colleagues off too.
With the green cloud of envy (over someone he had just met) blocking his view, he gripped you hair with his hand and forced you to take him all the way until your nose breathed in the musk of his pubes.
You on the other hand were more turned on, as your hands had sunk into your tight folds, pumping in an out with a fervour.
Soon, Jun-ho felt himself going to climax, so he pulled out, but kept your head firmly in place by your hair. Spurts of white soon released from his cock, right onto your face. You took it all, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out; all while looking at him right in the eyes.
His grip on your hair relaxed, so you slowly got up, knees shaking.
You straightened his slightly rumpled collar, your hands lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Guess I should speed through your part of town more often.”
Jun-ho gave you a warning look, though his flushed cheeks and the way his gaze lingered on your lips made it far less threatening. “You do, and I’ll write you up for real next time.”
“Sure you will,” you said with a wink, stepping back toward your bike.
As you swung a leg over, you caught the way his eyes followed your every move, and you couldn’t resist blowing him a cheeky kiss.
“See you around, Officer,” you called before revving the engine.
Jun-ho stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath before turning back toward his patrol car.
You sped off into the night with a grin plastered on your face. Maybe breaking the rules wasn’t so bad after all.
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Meanwhile, a crackle of Jun-ho’s walkie talkie caught his attention.
“Sir, you do remember that the first button of your shirt has a camera installed, right?”
Oh.
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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prettyboybuck · 1 year ago
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lemme find a fanfic to read and lay in bed and drink a glass of wine cause I deserve it and I’m so sad tn
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3verythingiknowaboutlove · 1 month ago
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first fall of snow
how spencer guesses you're pregnant before you actually tell him
fluff word count: 1390 warnings & tags & stuff: pregnant reader, slight issues with mother mentioned?, non-graphic vomiting, mentions/allusions to winter holidays being celebrated, kinda spencer's pov but still 2nd pov, reader is scared spencer will leave her lol, anxious!reader in general, mentions of death?, probably medical inaccuracies ive never been pregnant author's note: hiiii i'm forcing myself to post this because if i don't then i'll never post and i'm being BRAVE. i hope it can be a little comforting maybe. i've realllyyyy been struggling with my take on spencer's characterization lately soo this was kinda like a bootcamp/exercise situation into his mind and less an expression of my writing skills, iykwim. let me know your thoughts if u have any! i love you & have a splendid day!!
Spencer is walking—speed walking—toward his car, away from the case he just finished, away from serial killers and guns and geographical profiling and death.
He places his feet carefully on the snow-covered sidewalk with each step, the cold air biting at his face. He barely notices it, absorbed in the path ahead, as the snow provides a satisfying crunch underfoot—a nice background to his perpetually racing mind.
He doesn’t like the winter. It’s always too harsh outdoors, and too stuffy indoors, and he’s trapped in a suffocating haze no matter where he goes. 
His phone starts to vibrate gently in his pocket, interrupting his racing thoughts for a split second. His pace falters as he pulls it free, a quick smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he sees it’s your name on the screen.
“Hi. How are you?” he asks after picking up, watching his breath come out in puffs of vapor in the cold air.
Winters, however, have gotten progressively better each year he spends with you.
“...I’m okay,” you say, though the crack in your voice reveals the all-consuming ache in your bones and mind.
“No. You’re overwhelmed,” he guesses in his matter-of-fact way, voice gentle. You huff out a soft laugh at his ability to read you, never getting old.
“Yeah, I guess. A little. The holiday season, you know. Are you on your way home?” you ask, voice softer now. You’re sitting on the couch of yours and Spencer’s cozy apartment, wrestling with a blanket to cover your lap, and bouncing your leg relentlessly.
“I’m walking to the car now. Hey, have you done the crossword today?” Spencer asks, words a familiar, tender remedy for your nerves. You told him a long time ago that hearing his voice makes you feel better, and there are times, like these, where he just knows it’s what you need. You rest our head on the arm of the couch, curling up.
“No, I didn’t have the time. Why?”
“There was an interesting question about causes of death in Shakespeare plays, but they completely messed up the part of speech. It read, ‘Popular ways to die by the hands of England’s national poet’. I thought it was ‘poisons’ at first, but it was actually ‘stabbed’, even though the correct answer grammatically should’ve been ‘stabs’ or ‘stabbings’,” he says, his car now in sight through the steady sprinkle of snow coming down. “Do you think I should send an email to let them know? I guess stabbing does make more sense, though, versus poison, because throughout his works, thirty characters out of his 74 that died were stabbed compared to only four that were poisoned. Three were stabbed and poisoned. Did you know that two were actually baked into pies, which is a-”
“Oh my god, the pie,” you groan, cutting him off mid-sentence, sitting up hastily, the blanket falling to the floor.
“Pie?”
“Yeah. My mom coerced me into making it to bring tomorrow.” You pad over to the kitchen and crouch down to peek through the hazy glass of the oven, inspecting it. “Oh,” you murmur. “It’s…not pretty.”
He sandwiches the phone in between his ear and shoulder, gently opening the door to his car to sit down as he listens to you. He turns the heat on, exhaling in an exhausted relief, hovering his hand over where the air comes out. 
“Can you tell me what it looks like? Maybe I can help,” he suggests, leaning back against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a second. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter as you bend down to take it out. “Don’t burn yourself,” he adds, hearing what you’re doing.
“I’m not going to burn my-” you cut yourself off with a huff. “Whatever. It’s just really messy. There’s like… liquid overflowing where the lattice should be.”
He hums. “How long has it been cooking for?”
“45 minutes. My mom sent me this one ancient recipe that I had to use written on parchment paper from like 70 years ago, and it does not have a bake time listed, so I’m just eyeballing it.”
“Okay. You could either put it back in the oven in hopes that more of the liquid will evaporate, or you can leave it out to cool down and hopefully thicken,” he says.
“What do you think I should do?”
“I think you sound exhausted and need your sleep.” 
You sigh, staring at your mess of a pie, hopes that you’ll appease your mother this year slipping further and further away, soon to be completely buried by the snow.
“Hey. I’m sure it’ll taste really good. Besides, people still liked Shakespeare, and he wrote about much worse pies than you could ever make.” 
A smile pulls at your lips.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just leave it out to cool and head to bed. Will you stay on the phone a little longer?” you ask, padding over to your shared bedroom.
“Of course.”
He doesn’t start driving as you talk, not when nearly 2000 people die per year due to driving on icy roads, and two thirds of them were people who were reported to not be paying close enough attention.
And especially not when 54 hours ago on your last phone call, he noticed a drastic shift in your behavior, and was quickly able to tell that you were pregnant. 
He had too much waiting for him at home to be spinning out on black ice because he was talking to you and not watching the road.
He chooses instead to look outside at the falling snow, blanketing the city, his city, the very first for D.C. to have this winter out of the septillion snowflakes planet earth receives each year.
Spencer gets home a little later that night, holding another pint of cherries in his hands. Not for the pie—which he turns to see resting on the stove and winces slightly at—but for you. 
Cherries, with their 342 mg of potassium per cup, help replenish lost electrolytes and can soothe nausea.
He’s expecting it to start any day now.
He quietly steps into the bedroom, setting his bag by the door to be dealt with tomorrow. The soft glow of the lamp that was left on, presumably for him by your endlessly considerate heart, provides just enough light so he can get changed. He then finally clambers into bed next to you, one hand reaching out to lace in your hair, moving his fingers to gently scratch by the nape of your neck. He lifts the other to rest, like you're made of a delicate china, on your lower stomach, sighing in pure relief the second it makes contact.
You turn sleepily, humming when you’re met with the sight of him. “Spence,” you murmur, contented.
“Hi. I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly.
“I'm glad you did. I like it when you wake me.” You tuck yourself closer to him. “I love you.” His hand comes to trace gentle patterns all over your back and arm, and he gives you a little kiss, adoringly.
“Go back to sleep. I love you.”
You let your eyes shut once again, this time much easier now that he’s with you. You inhale his scent, which you swear could repair anything broken or lost in this world. You exhale, wondering if he’d still hold you the same way after learning that you’re carrying his child. 
It’s a scary thought, but you’re comforted by his warm touch, pushing you farther out into the deep sea of sleep.
Once your breaths get steady and your mouth parts slightly, he adds, in a whisper, “Both.”
The next morning, when you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, Spencer is there with you, rubbing your back and wiping your teary eyes. You look up to him after brushing your teeth, and no words are exchanged. He tugs you into his arms, silently quelling any of the countless anxieties swarming your mind, at least in this moment.
His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He lets it rest there, cupping your jaw.
“Let’s go shopping after breakfast today, okay? You need prenatal vitamins.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“And a new pie.”
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madigoround · 2 years ago
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💜
#following tags will discuss a mass shooting don’t read if you’re not in a stable mental place take care of yourselves 💜#yesterday while I was on the way home from work there was a mass shooting down the street from my work/in the heart of the city#this was in the heart of the city in broad daylight at a high school graduation a graduating senior and his father were shot and killed and#others were shot and are in the hospital who knows if they will recover a 14 year old was shot a nine year old boy was hit by a car running#from the shooting trying to protect himself all of those graduating high schoolers and their families had to run for their lives and were#traumatized on a day that should have been joyful and at the time that this happened I was headed home and saw tons of police cars zooming#past and then did teletherapy and before even hearing about the shooting this morning I was crying to my therapist about how it feels like#the world is crumbling apart and there is so much cruelty and there are things happening to my friends and to the people around me and#there’s nothing I can do about it I just feel so powerless and defeated I want to crawl in a hole and not emerge until things have gotten#better and then to come to work and be told that we’re probably going to be assigned this case to defend the shooter and it’s like I don’t#think people should be put in cages right? I don’t think prison is an appropriate or effective solution and it#certainly is modern day slavery and the people that go to prison often come out years later with no options and very little rights and it’s#not helpful to anyone really I’m not saying I want the kid that did this to be locked up forever because it’s not actually going to solve#the issue that being said I’m already investigating a shooting/murder that happened in broad daylight a few months ago on a street I was#walking on twenty minutes before the shooting and I am struggling with it#I don’t know how we can be expected to defend this client who killed people down the street from us in broad daylight who shot at children#and it all makes me feel so utterly powerless#it feels like the world is falling apart and there is nothing I can do#all my irl friends are really going through it right now and I don’t want to put this on them but I need to get it out of my head
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captain039 · 2 months ago
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Heal your hurt
Viktor x reader
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, mental health issues, light swearing, chubby reader, intimacy, sexual, friends to lovers, reader has chronic pain
I just need to take care of Viktor and for him to take care of me xD
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It’s a quiet day, rain gently pattering on the window of your shared apartment. Viktor’s been your roommate for three years now, but you’ve known him since you were little. You’ve always loved Viktor, lately though it just seems different, you catch yourself staring at him, watching the way his eyes scan over journals, notes and blueprints, watch the way his jaw sometimes clenches a little too harshly or his high cheekbones. Watching him slowly grow tired while you read on the bed making sure he doesn’t fall asleep at the desk, or how he makes his tea in the morning, his hair a mess his eyes barely open. It makes your cheeks heat and your thighs clench. You want to throw yourself out the window some days at how bad it gets, you can’t help but wonder, let your mind wander to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking about him, you imagine straddling him, making sure he’s comfortable before slowing sinking-
The door opening makes you startle, your book falls to the floor and you stare blankly before you register.
“Welcome home” you call to Viktor who just hums and heads to his desk lying his things down. He looks tired today more so than usual, his limp is worse than normal and you can see the tense lines in his jaw and brow.
“How was your day?” You ask. You know better than to ask if he’s ok, always being brushed off.
“Good” he answers simply sitting down and resting his cane against the table, it wouldn’t be a talking day then. You sigh softly picking up your book and lying it on the table head in hand, elbow resting on the table as you look out the window, watching the rain fall.
“Did you have a good day?” Viktor’s voice comes and you look to him, he’s looking at you to which surprised you.
“It was boring” you shrug and he nods.
“Jayce says hello,” he says and turns back to his desk.
“Tell him I say hi back” you say and he nods. You stand up deciding to take a shower instead of sitting, your hips protest and you swear you feel like someone just stabbed you in the tailbone. You want to curse but keep it in and awkwardly go to the bathroom. You run a bath, put in a few drops of oil and a scoop of bath salts, it’s your damn fault for sitting in that chair too long. You want to slap yourself but don’t as you strip and struggle with your pants and socks. You sit on the toilet seat jaw clenching. In times like these you missed your mother, her helpful hand her warm words and her caring touch, she made you feel less useless. You force your legs up and take off your socks one by one it takes you too long and you’re rushing to turn the taps off before you even get your pants off. You sigh shimmying your pants off before you settle in the bath with a small sigh of satisfaction. A temporary subdue of pain, you figured by now they’d invent something to stop this kind of thing, but no, we’re just inventing blimps and hextech. You sit in the bath eyes closed head resting on the small bath pillow that Viktor bought you. It’s… nice the small things he does, he’ll buy you a small gift you use every day like a new bookmark, a blanket or something you need, he’ll leave one of your jackets hanging by the door if it’s cold, he always knows how to make the best tea.
“Are you alive in there?” A gentle knock echos from the door and you open your eyes realising you were lost in thought.
“Yeah I’m alive” you call out hearing a soft rare chuckle from Viktor.
“Would you like a tea?” He asks and the thought of hot tea makes you smile.
“Yes please” you answer. Getting out of the bath seems to be harder than getting in, you feel ten times heavier and drying your body feels like running a marathon. You struggle to your room, listen to the kettle boil as you take some pain meds and get dressed carefully. You leave your room and collapse on the couch ungracefully and sigh. You’ve never outright told Viktor of your problems, you figure he can see them even though you try to hide, sometimes it’s too much to hide, but you don’t want your burdens on him when he already has his own.
“Tea” Viktor says and hands you the cup. You thank him and sit up properly sipping the herbal drink with a small sigh.
“Viktor?” You ask as he sits at his desk and he hums back. You pause for a moment sighing and shaking your head.
“Sorry, don’t worry” you brush off picking up a book instead. You don’t see him falter and stop what he’s doing till you hear his voice.
“How is your book?” He asks.
“S, good” you hum.
“What’s it about?” He adds and you flick your eyes up seeing him writing something down.
“You don’t like my silly romance novels” you snort softly.
“Indulge me” he answers and something in your stomach flutters.
“I- ok. It’s about opposing kingdoms the Prince and the Princess must marry to form an alliance between each kingdom, they hate each other though and she’s been planning to murder him to get revenge for mother’s death. They’re forced to be together for appearance and she slowly finds out that it wasn’t in fact the prince that killed her mother but someone else, I think it was one of the king's assassins and the prince had no idea about it, anyway, she realised that the prince is not the evil mastermind he appears to be, he’s a soft-hearted gentleman who cares for the people in secret and tries to save the kingdom from collapsing” you explain only halfway through the book.
“Has either one confessed?” He asks.
“No, she’s still learning about her feelings but he’s head over heels just doesn’t want to push her” You shrug sipping your tea again and reading the page you were on.
“An enemies to lovers? Is that what you called it?” He comments and you smile to yourself.
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called” you answer.
“With a slow…burn?” He tilts his head and your smile widens even if he can’t see it.
“Also correct” you let out a small giggle.
“I am slowly learning your… book language” You feel your stomach do a flip with butterflies at his words and you force yourself to stop smiling. You clear your throat and nod.
“Yeah, you’re doing good” you mumble focusing on finishing your tea and page.
Next part ->
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 10 months ago
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Pounding
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Summary: Reader has a migraine, and Spencer wants to help.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/comfort
Content warnings: none
Word count: 1.2k
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The transition of seasons is something that has to be endured. It’s the time when you wake up to frost on your windshield in the morning but must remove your coat by the time you leave work. It is a painful time of inconsistency, especially for your sinuses. Not only with the pollen in the air (as well as on your car at all times) but the dryness as well. It causes your headaches to go from sometimes once a month to now twice a week.
And the first one happens this week, today. The migraine descended on you like a storm, brewing from your nasal cavities, its relentless waves of pain crashing against the shores of your temples. With each throb, the world around you seemed to blur and spin.
You shut the door to your apartment and let your bag fall from your shoulder, with no care with where it lands. Light, food, the smell of home is all too much to bear. With a sigh, you shuffle to the sanctuary of your room and bask in the silence while you can still control it. You unleash yourself from your business casual attire and fall into bed, nestling yourself under the covers.
The darkness relieves pressure, only slightly. It will probably be hours before it has settled, so you think it is best to call it a night now at 5:56 in the evening. There was no point in doing anything else as streetlights alone from the windows have proven to be enough to make the back of your eyes ache. You remained still, motionless, unmoved. Minutes could stretch well into hours without your knowledge.
Until the sound of the front door opened, cutting through the quiet. Spencer was home, which means it’s 6:06 now. The creaking floors from his aged apartment tell you he goes to the kitchen first, the sink runs, then his steps only grow closer to you until you can feel his presence at your back. “Migraine?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
It drains all energy and motivation out of you, so you merely nod in response. He’s more than familiar with severe head pain; chronic migraines that were resolved with a vitamin regimen. Fortunately, he has yet to complain about them bothering you in the year you’ve been together. And he never leaves home without them.
Unfortunately, this makes him eager to figure out your head pains. Last spring, he left out an array of vitamins in a pill organizer. They didn’t. It wasn’t an issue at first. It was clear he was trying to help. The downside of your boyfriend being a child prodigy and objective genius is that he will never back down from a challenge, even when you have asked him to. He can’t do it. Later in the month, he came home one day with an array of tea brands, mostly ginger and peppermint. He’s bought humidifiers, massaged the cartilage of your nose, and even consulted Reddit. It’s certainly worn down your patience, especially when you require complete silence.
“I can get you some hot compresses from the pharmacy if you want.” He jumps in completely. The last three words are merely to cushion the obvious; reiterating the point rather than saying something like, “I’ve had headaches before. I know how awful they are, so you should let me help you.” Which he’s also said.
You continue the annoying pattern by shaking your head with an audible moan. Opening your eyes hurts.
“What about nasal spray or decongestant? I can get those at the pharmacy as well.”
“I don’t need anything from the pharmacy. I took ibuprofen. Just need to keep my eyes closed.”
“Well, that can only help so much today. Saline will help encourage drainage and expansion in the vessels. Ibuprofen solves the head pain, not the root problem.”
“Unless the BAU can order planting fruit trees, it’s the best we can do.”
“What I’m trying to say is—”
You groan louder. “This isn’t a time for solutions, Spencer.”
Another unfortunate aspect of your relationship is that you can feel the way Spencer’s face softens from your tone. He then mutters out an apology, a brief sorry, but he doesn’t leave. He touches your shoulder and keeps his hand there until you turn to face him. And because you love him very much, you strain to open your eyes. You can make out a blur of his silhouette in the growing darkness, but still see clearly his glossy eyes and the quirk of his lips. “Can you do something for me first, though? Real quick?”
Before you answer, his hand slides toward your upper back, meaning you have to sit up for this. You were ready to say something along the line that he’s lucky you love him right now and leave it at that because thinking further made the pressure in your temples increase. 
You didn’t have to speak at all, though. Because Spencer is also holding a glass of water in front of you. You look up at Spencer’s puppy-eyed silhouette. “Not a solution,” he says softly. “It’s something you always need.”
Well, if that didn’t make you feel like an asshole. You accepted the glass without a word, feeling the coolness against your palm as you brought it to your lips. Each sip, at the very least, a distraction from the throbbing. Spencer watches you closely. You had no choice but to finish the whole glass. And you did, leaving Spencer satisfied enough as he took the glass and walked out.
You didn’t say a word. The sink ran again, and Spencer returned with another full glass. He doesn’t hand it to you, instead puts it on the nightstand before turning precariously on his heels. It takes you a second through half-closed eyes to realize he’s walking back out. You’re afraid to ask, wondering if you’ve made him too upset to talk. You push yourself and do so anyway, keeping your tone in mind. “Where are you going?”
Spencer turns on his heels once more, looking around momentarily like there were others in the room. He then looks at you. “I figured you wanted to be alone.”
You reach out, moving through the pain quite literally, and you catch the polyester of his cardigan just between your fingers and pull him closer until you can wrap your arms around him. You hold your breath, knowing the intense smell of his laundry detergent would be enough to collapse down to your pillow in further pain. His cardigan is soft against your face. “Do you have other stuff to do?”
He chuckles, his abdomen bounces. So, he’s not too mad. “I do not.”
Encouraged by his response, you tug him gently (and not so gracefully) into bed. He’s delightfully warm. Spencer kicks off his shoes in response before pulling you close. Then you bury your face into his chest, hesitant to breathe in the scent of cedar that clings to the cardigan. You try best to ignore it as you cocoon yourselves beneath the blankets, finding refuge in each other’s company amidst the inner turmoil that comes with spring. You listen to the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat, and find a fleeting sense of peace in the storm.
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nightdivinity · 1 year ago
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Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1
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ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.
Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.
Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.
From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.
It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.
“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.
“I want this job.”
He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.
If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.
“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.
You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.
“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.
You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.
You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?
“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.
You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.
“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.
It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.
“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”
“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”
It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.  
 “Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”
You nod at him. You need this.
“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”
“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.
“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”
“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”
You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.
“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”
“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.
“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”
“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”
Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.
“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”
“I’m not a toy.”
“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?
If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.
“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.
Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.
“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”
You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.
“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.
“Then please, call me Alfred.”
He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.
“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”
This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.
It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.
“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.
He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.
“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.
“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.
Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.
It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.
He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.
“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”
 “There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”
Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.
“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.
He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.
“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”
He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.
“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."
You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.
“I think that’s it, are you ready?”
His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.
“Up you go!”, Duke crows.
“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.
Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.
“Run”, you warn him.
He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.
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writhyv · 16 days ago
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⋆。°✩ your domestic boyfriend is here
fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader
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pairing: jay x male!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1.5k
notes: HAVE SOME JAY AWOOGAH *throws fic* i just felt like doing something domestic with him ... househusband jongseong fr
There's something truly special about sharing life with the one you love. Despite the challenges, together you strive to overcome every obstacle. Sometimes, all you need is a simple hug, a kiss, or perhaps a delightful dessert to lift your spirits.
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"You call this an article? Hah?" His tone was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. Your boss was clearly furious about the piece you had just published.
"Thank goodness it hasn't been finalized! I can't believe I made you editor-in-chief!" he exclaimed, rising from his seat and storming out of the office, leaving you speechless.
It looked like there was nothing left to say. It was probably just the stress getting to him. You had tried to explain that the article was written from a specific perspective, but nothing seemed to resonate with him. Still, you shrugged it off; you understood his quirks.
Taking a deep, refreshing breath, you stepped out of the office. Your co-workers across the workspace awaited your return, curiosity etched on their faces as you entered the row of cubicles.
"Did he change hi—"
"He's on his way to the 23rd floor," you interrupted, addressing one of your anxious colleagues.
"Ugh, of course he is." She sighed, plopping back into her chair. "He doesn’t even review the articles properly! Should we change the title again?"
"That would be asking for a death sentence, wouldn’t it? This is the 25th time he’s rejected our title, and it’s just one article!" another co-worker chimed in as you settled into your own cubicle.
"Guys, you have to understand, he’s just a little preoccupied. The merger’s happening soon, and it’s been a bit chaotic for him," you explained while organizing your desk.
Your cubicle was adorned with collectible figurines and an overwhelming stack of paperwork. A broken fax machine sat on your desk, serving more as a paperweight than anything else. You checked your disheveled hair in a small mirror and quickly tidied up.
"Want a ride?" one of your co-workers offered.
"No thanks. I’m feeling a bit whimsical today," you replied with a smile.
Your colleagues exchanged knowing glances, trying to decipher your mood.
"Just make sure to stay safe. Might snow today," another co-worker warned.
"Thanks, I’ll keep an eye out," you said, shouldering your bag. You waved goodbye as you made your way to the exit, while they returned to their work.
Stepping outside, the chilly air wrapped around you. The months were getting cooler, and you couldn’t wait for the snow to fall.
Walking was never an issue for you; it was a chance to stretch your legs. Your home was nearby, and the fresh air was a welcome relief from work stress.
As you approached the corner, you spotted a familiar green car parked in the lot. A sense of urgency filled you, and you dashed upstairs, eager to see who had arrived.
"Jay!" you called as you unlocked your apartment door.
"Oh? I’m cooking!" he replied, his voice echoing from the kitchen as he washed a large piece of raw chicken. "Well, about to cook, anyway."
"I didn’t know you’d be back early!" you exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen and brushing stray hair from your forehead. "If I had known—"
"Shh." Jay flashed you a warm smile. "Take your shoes off first."
You paused, realizing you hadn’t removed your work shoes. With a sheepish grin, you hurried back to the front door to kick them off.
"Jake told me you guys were going to be late because no one was performing for the 10 PM gig, right?" you asked as you hung your clothes in a nearby closet.
"The guy showed up last minute. Had a bit of a traffic conundrum," Jay explained, moving toward the kitchen island, where he prepared a large cutting board and his trusty knife. "You came early too, didn’t you?"
You sighed, recalling the earlier chaos at work. "I’d rather forget work. I’m at home now."
You stepped closer to Jay, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging.
"I'm home," you murmured, resting your head against the crook of his neck. His smile widened, and you noticed a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"You are," he replied softly.
Glancing at the uncut peppers and potatoes on the counter, you realized Jay was just starting to cook. You grabbed a knife and peeler, ready to join him.
"How thin?" you asked, picking up a potato.
"Just dice them. It’ll be fine," he said, finishing up the chicken. "How big do you want the chicken pieces?"
"Just enough, honey. I don’t think we need big ones today."
Jay perked up at your words. "Not today, huh? No one’s coming?"
You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he meant. "Coming? Today?"
He sighed with a chuckle, clearly amused. "Big chops it is."
You shrugged, feeling a sense of agreement. You weren’t really paying attention, but anything that made Jay smile made you content. His smirk, his smile, his constant care—these were the little things you cherished about him.
“Are you cutting those potatoes, or should I do it myself?” Jay teased, knowing your tendencies well as he felt that familiar gazing look you always do around him.
You raised the potato playfully, inching it closer to his jawline.
"Can I use your—"
"Yah! Is that clean?"
"Your jawline? I hope so—"
"Aish, get working." He nudged your stomach, turning back to chop the carrots.
After a few sweet chuckles and playful glances, Jay gently pushed you toward your room.
"Get changed." He tossed a set of clothes in your direction and closed the door softly.
Stunned, you can only look at the empty room you were left in.
A bed filled with comfy memories, walls that always shine whenever the morning sun comes, and the rugs and pillows you've buried yourself in, varying from plushies, bears and large pillows. Just how lucky are you to always wake up in this bed with such a fine man?
As you changed, you noticed the tag on the clothes he had given you. Though the price was scratched out, the brand was unmistakable.
"Bottega… Bottega?! Jay!"
You dashed out of the room, eager to confront him.
Right outside your living room, a large glass sliding door stood between it and an extensive outdoor balcony.
When Jay heard the door slide, he turned his back quickly to see what's up.
"Wait I— I guess I’m done," he chuckled.
Jay walked closer towards you with an accomplished smile on his face.
"Happy Birthday."
You couldn’t mask your surprise. You were never good at expressing your emotions, but Jay knew you well enough to see the gleam in your eyes, and nothing like a blank stare.
"You forgot, didn’t you?"
You finally smiled, walking toward him and stepping out onto your balcony.
The cold breeze complemented the warmth of a makeshift bonfire. Trays of marshmallows and cookies were laid out, alongside a table set with your favorite chicken dish and a bottle of wine, ready for a cozy night in.
"I thought… it was just a normal night," you said, feeling tears well up.
"We can always do movie nights," Jay said, taking a step closer. "Tonight is your birthday. I just wanted to do something special."
You were overwhelmed. Movie nights had been a tradition for years, yet how could you forget your own birthday? Jay always tried to make you feel cherished, and tonight was no exception.
"This tops last year, right?" he asked with a competitive grin.
"You’re always like this, Jay."
"Like what?"
"Generous ... Loving ... Loving me so generously." You chuckled at the tone, and softly stopped as you admired him, appreciating how he made you feel valued, even though you both can only do so much in your life right now.
"This is the most I can do."
"You know you can do everything."
"I’ll do everything for you. That’s what I want."
He pulled you close, capturing your lips in an intimate kiss. The warmth of his hands cradled your face, and you savored the moment.
"Mhm… that was refreshing," you said, pulling away slightly.
"Your tongue still acts like it’s thirsty, huh?" he teased. "I’m not going anywhere, honey."
You smiled and playfully pinched his nose. "I’m just savoring what I have right now. Very delectable."
Jay grinned, then playfully shoved his cold hands against your chest.
"Ah!" You flinched, realizing you had forgotten to wear the outfit he had given you.
"Being underdressed isn’t allowed here, right? You little deviant," he laughed.
"You!" You scratched your head and rushed back to your room to change into the clothes he bought you.
"Why did you buy something so expensive?!" you called from your bedroom.
"I saved up for it, okay? You better wear it often!" he replied, grinning as you stepped out, his gaze sweeping over you.
"I knew it would fit you," he said, appreciating how the outfit complemented you.
"At least I look good," you pondered, still hesitant about wearing something so luxurious.
"You always do," he assured you.
As he embraced you from behind, you felt the rhythm of his heartbeat against your back, a comforting presence.
"I love you," Jay whispered, tightening his hold.
"I love you too," you replied, kissing his forehead. There was no feeling quite like being held close by someone so special.
Outside, delicate white flakes began to drift through the air. Snow began to fall, gently blanketing the world around you both in white.
"Hey," Jay said, pulling away slightly. "Want to dance?"
You nodded, and he pulled out his phone, playing a soft tune. As the music filled the air, he took your hand and led you to the middle of the balcony, where the snow swirled around you like a dream.
With each sway and twirl, you lost yourself in the moment, the world fading away as you danced with Jay under the falling snow.
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Okay maybe I want ENHA to cover fairy of shampoo ... also i really thought the song was about being in love with someone despite the struggles of life so i was like i gotta put ma mans out there because i know he's be perfect for something like this 😭🖐
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flemingsfreckles · 9 months ago
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Helping Hand
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: coming home from working as a mechanic, you notice a pretty girl struggling to change her tire.
Warnings: none
WC: 1.6k
A/N: this was inspired by how dirty I left work the other day, I don’t work as a car mechanic though but this was the easiest way to write the fic.
You had just finished a long shift at work, you felt disgusting. Your hands, arms and face were covered in a sticky and offputting mixture of grease, oil, hydraulic fluid, and likely just dirt. It was the worst part of your job working on heavy machinery in a shop you loved every second of it. Something about taking apart machines, finding the issue and putting it back together was like an exciting 3D puzzle.
As you walked down the sidewalk you noticed a girl, probably close to your age, bent over next to her car. It only takes a second to see what she’s doing, she’s changing a flat tire. Or at least she’s trying to change a flat tire.
You watch her as you continue to walk down the road in her direction, she seems a little confused, flipping through the car manual, picking up and placing down tools. It crosses your mind to help her. After the long day you had, you didn’t really want to do more work but it’s not like you had fully showered and were clean yet. Plus it didn’t hurt that the girl sitting on the ground was pretty and you were a sucker for brown haired girls.
As you approached her, you decided you’d offer the help. “Hey, I don’t mean to overstep, but would you like some help with that?”
The girl turns to you, her face is covered in freckles, her eyes soft. She takes a second, looking you up and down, her eyes lingering over the dirty patches on your clothes and skin. She gives you a smile and a wave. “Oh no, I’m good, thank you.” You notice her accent, she clearly wasn’t from around here.
“You sure? I don’t mind.” You can tell she’s confused and lost and you could see the girl giving up and calling a tow truck or maybe her boyfriend to come help her.
“Yeah I’m sure, thanks.” She gives you a quick glance before she turns back to working.
You then see something and realize now you can’t let this girl keep doing this on her own. So you take a step back, not wanting to overstep after she told you no twice, but still being around.
You can tell the girl knows you’re still behind her. She continues trying to work for a few minutes before she looks back at you, then back to the car, then back to you. She furrows her eyebrows in your direction, indicating her confusion on why you were still standing behind her.
“I’m just being a good citizen now. I’ll call 999 for you when your car falls off the jack that you set up all wrong.” You hold up your phone at her and give it a shake with a smile on your face.
“Oh.” The girl looks up at you then back at the car where it was being held off the ground. “Did I actually do it wrong?”
“Yeah you have it on the body, not on the frame.” You place down your bag and phone on the sidewalk and kneel down next to her. You point out to her that the car jack was just slightly off from where I should be set.
“So can I help you?”
“I guess, I just hate feeling like I can’t do things without someone else’s help. I’m not just a ditsy girl, I went to school for engineering.” You notice a frown on her face, it’s cute.
“Hey changing a tire isn’t something most people know how to do, they should, but most don’t. I really don’t mean for my offer of help to come off condescending. I definitely don’t think you’re ditsy. Most people would give up and call for a tow the second they see the flat tire, you at least were trying.” You give her a smile. She gives you a halfhearted grin.
“Yeah I guess, I just thought I was doing it right. So who taught you how to do this?” She’s turned to you, watching you move the jack on her car.
“I taught myself, but I do mechanics work for a job so, it’s really second nature.”
“Given how dirty you seem, I figured you worked on cars or maybe in a coal mine but I don’t know of any around here.” She makes a joke and looks at you, you can see her studying the lines of dirt across your face.
“Yeah sorry, I promise I tried to wash before I left work, the grease just never comes out.” You hold your hands out, flipping them over to show her. “So can I ask what your plan was going to be if you couldn’t get this yourself?”
“Probably a tow truck, or call Sam or something.” She shrugs. You feel a little deflated at the mention of a man, not that you expected the beautiful girl in front of you to have any interest but you held out a sliver of hope.
“Sam? Is he your boyfriend?” Hoping he was maybe just a friend and you wouldn’t have to completely abandon the idea of asking her out.
“Oh no, she’s my teammate. I feel like she’d know how to do this.” The girl pauses for a second. “I don’t date men.”
“Oh.” Your response accidentally coming out as if you were disappointed in her admitting she didn’t date men.
“Sorry I don’t know why I said that.”
“I don’t date men either.” You throw out the comment, both to make her feel more comfortable in the fact that she just came out on what seemed like accident, or that you wanted to let her know you were into women too.
“So teammate? What do you play?”
“Oh soccer, or football, I guess. I’m also obviously not from here, I’m from Canada hence the lack of accent or I guess to you it probably sounds like I have an accent.”
“What made you move?” You couldn’t help but ask, it wasn’t everyday that you run into someone from another country, let alone one so far away.
“Also soccer.”
“Oh? Really?” You rack your brain wondering if there were other football fans that would move to London just to be near the Premier League teams, which sounded crazy to you.
“What do you do for work? You said you went to school for engineering, is that what you do?”
The girl laughs and her laugh is sweet, it sounds like sunshine. “Will you think I’m a liar if I tell you soccer?”
“Really? Like, you play professionally?”
“Yes.”
“That makes more sense, I just thought you were a diehard fan and moved to watch the games, which I realize now is incredibly stupid to consider. I don’t really follow football, too much running for me. But it’s obviously a popular game around here.” You hear her laugh at your thought process, her laugh is suddenly becoming one of your favorite sounds.
She let you work in silence for a bit. Once you got the jack set up in the right spot it was a quick process to put the spare on. She asked questions here and there, a little about your job, a little about what you were doing to her car.
“When you put the new one on, you have to tighten the bolts in a star pattern, see.” You demonstrate how to correctly tighten the wheel on to the car. “That way it’s not angled and doesn’t put any uneven force on your axel.”
“And there you go!” You hold your hands out as if you’ve just created a masterpiece painting and were displaying it. It had only taken a couple of minutes for you to change the girls tire, you hoped you weren’t holding her up from her plans. She helps clean up, grabbing some of the tools while you lowered the jack and her car back to the ground. You pick up the flat tire and walk it around to where she had the trunk open, placing it inside.
“Thank you again, I really owe you.” She says as her hand reaches to close the hatch of her car.
“Do you by chance like coffee?” It was a completely out of the blue question, but you couldn’t help but ask, hoping it would lead you in the direction of a date.
She looks at her watch and back up to you with confusion on her face. “I do. But isn’t it a little late for coffee?”
“Oh no, I don’t mean today. Maybe sometime this week or weekend if you’re interested, I could take you out to a cafe I like?” Giving her your best convincing smile, you were hoping she’d say yes.
“Wait but I’m supposed to be taking you out, you fixed my car and all.” The girl points at the spare tire on her car.
“I technically didn’t fix it, you still need a new tire. Don’t drive too far on that spare. If you need shop recommendations I know a few good ones in the area that won’t try and upsell you on stupid stuff just because you’re a woman.”
“That would be great.”
“Why don’t you give me your number so I can send you a few places?”
“Wow. Smooth.” She says as she takes your phone putting her name into your phone. And she hands it back to you. You read her contact.
“Jessie Fleming.” You read off her name. The name feels slightly familiar, probably just from jerseys or the radio or tv, you’re not sure but you don’t care to know her as famous footballer Jessie Fleming, you like her as the sweet brown hair brown eyes girl you helped out.
“That’s me.”
You tell her your name and stick out your hand to shake hers, you look down at it, doing your best to wipe it on your jeans before extending your hand again. “I promise my hands are clean, with the exception of maybe any dirt from your tire.”
“It was great to meet you, Jessie, I’ll be sure to text those recommendations and I’ll expect you to tell me when you’re not busy being a professional athlete and I can take you on a coffee date.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Have a good night Jessie!” You say to her before turning to finish your walk down the street. For a second you think about googling the girl but then decide against it when her name pops up on your phone.
Jessie Fleming ⚽️: I have a match in town Saturday but I’ll be free all day Sunday if that works for you?
You: sounds like a date!
You smiled as you typed and sent the message. You had a date and a sudden new interest in women’s football.
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chimcess · 6 months ago
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Waterlog || pjm (5)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 10.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, talks of panic attacks, talks of sex, k*ssing, I love them so much, jimin still the best boyfriend, small argument, insecurities, strong language, one bed trope, healthy relationship conversations, boundary setting, friends being friends, character has cancer, talks of character death (brief), dry humping, moaning, things are picking up A/N: I know I'm late again, but I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life at the moment that had made writing challenging. First a breakup, then finding a new apartment, moving, and then waiting for my internet to get turned on. It's been hectic for me! But we are back. This was very lightly edited so I apologize in advance for any issues there might be. I will go through and edit this eventually, I just wanted to get it out for you guys!
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The drive to Jimin’s house was quick, the traffic not fully registering in my mind as I lost myself in thought. I had only ever been in love once before, and that had been a very different time in my life. I was no longer that same person, and the anxiety these new feelings were bringing up made me nauseous. I was not ready to say anything was certain, but I knew for a fact that I was falling hard and fast. 
The small suburb was nice with large homes. A few new modern builds stuck out like a sore thumb, but the area had still kept much of its original blue-American-suburban charm. Coming from Colorado, I was not used to seeing large front lawns or children’s toys left out after dark. Jimin was just ahead of me and I slowed down when his tail lights came on. 
The house was definitely brand new. I had never liked modern buildings, the architecture lacking the charm and personality I sought out when buying my own place in the Springs, but it suited the swimmer. It was difficult to make out much color, but I could tell it was mostly white with black accents on the front. Large windows took up a majority of the walls and a small balcony was above the front door. It was smaller than the other homes, but the yard was bigger than the rest, and a tall fence enclosed the back of the property. 
Taking a second to prepare myself for the rest of the night, I watched Jimin get out of Fiona and open up the two door garage at the front. He seemed to be in a rush, casting a few quick glances at my car as he paced back to the truck to pull it inside. I do not think he could see me looking back.
Picking up my phone, I called Hoseok.
“Everything okay?” He picked up, out of breath.
I smiled, “I’m okay. Promise.”
He had been extra worried about tonight. Out of everyone, Hoseok knew how huge this was for me. At one of our many late night parties I had told him that I could never love again, and that I never wanted to know that feeling again. If it wasn’t Namjoon then it could not be anybody. At the time he had reassured me, but as the years went on he had truly believed that I had completely closed off that part of my heart. To be so excited about someone had him cautious- even if he did poke fun at me most of the time.
“Why are you calling me then?” He asked.
“Just needed a bit of a pep talk,” I admitted, eyes still locked on Jimin’s truck. “I’m at his house. Feeling a little nervous.”
He hummed, “He seems like a good guy. Don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. Just enjoy yourself.”
I sighed, watching the garage door close, knowing I would have to get out of the car soon. “I think I’m going insane.”
“Talk to me about it.”
Jimin stood by the garage door, looking at my car. I rolled the window down and waved, gestured to the phone, and managed a pathetic smile. He nodded, still watching me with a strange look on his face.
“I think I love him,” I mumbled, unable to look away from him.
Hoseok laughed, “You just figured that out? Baby, anyone with eyes and ears can see how you feel about the kid.”
“It’s been two seconds, Hobi. We barely know each other.”
“You don’t have to tell him anything,” My friend reasoned, voice nothing but friendly. “You’re all over the place right now, and you need to really think about how you feel. No one wants to hear someone ‘thinks’ they love them. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”
As I steadied my breathing, I noticed Jimin’s face becoming concerned. He always knew when something was wrong, and it did not surprise me when he started walking across the front yard towards my car. 
“I have to go,” I choked out, panic bubbling in my chest with each step he took. “I don’t want him hearing us.”
“Otter-”
I hung up the phone and smoothed down my hair. My heart was running at a million miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I hated how worked up I got over nothing. Disgusted and discouraged, I forced a smile on my face and opened the car door. My phone vibrated, the sensation tickling my hand, but I chose to ignore it. Fake it till you make it, I told myself. The curve of Jimin’s mouth told me I was not fooling anyone.
“Everything okay?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.
“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding frantically. In my panic, I did not see the curb and tripped. Jimin reached out to help steady me before I could fall. I shuttered. “Everything is fine. Hoseok just called to check in with me. Didn’t realize we were out together.”
The lie felt heavy on my tongue and Jimin’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew I was lying and it made the sinking in my gut all the more unbearable. Knowing I needed to get a grip, I stepped out of his arms and gestured to the house.
“Nice place,” I sounded like I had just run a marathon. “It’s very you.”
Jimin was quiet. Still trying to avoid talking about my odd behavior, I began rambling on and on about how much I liked the landscaping. The large bushes that surrounded the small front porch were a nice pop of color for the otherwise neutral paint job.
“Is that a gnome wearing a swimming ring?” I asked, squinting trying to make out the little figure in the darkness. “That’s so cute. Did your mom buy you that? I-”
“Y/N.”
My mouth clamped shut.
“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, reaching out to caress my shoulder. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
I sighed, finally done hiding my very apparent discomfort. “Just really nervous about how I’m feeling.”
“Tell me about it?”
I looked at him and nodded, “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”
“Of course, angel.”
The pet name made me short circuit long enough to get inside without saying another word. Were we on that level now? Would it be okay for me to start calling him sweet little names like that? Would he want me to? What would I even call the guy? Nothing seemed good enough. No words could ever be good enough to express everything that he was becoming to me. 
“I can take your coat,” Jimin murmured in my ears, hands already helping me shrug out of the dark wool coat. “Shoes go on that little shelf over there.”
“Thank you,” I absentmindedly replied, still dazed. 
What about babe? No, too conventional. Sweetheart? No, that was Joon’s thing. Honey? We are definitely not beating the old woman allegations with that one. That also rules out darling and sweetie. He’d never let me live that down.
“Feeling a bit better now?” He asked, hand on the small of my back as he led me further into the house. “You’re not shaking anymore.”
I had not realized how off course my thoughts had gotten. I got so swept up in him that everything else just faded away. Pleased, I smiled and nodded.
He chuckled, “Where did your mind go this time, angel girl?”
I giggled, giddy that we were keeping up the terms of endearment. 
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” I leaned into his touch, melting in his arms as we walked. He finally wrapped me up completely, pressing me into his side with his hand on my hip. “I like it when you call me that.”
Jimin hummed, “What? Angel?”
I nodded, putting my head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward but I dealt with the discomfort. I enjoyed being this close to him. Knowing that he seemed just as eager to be here with me was a bonus. 
“What do you think of the place?” He asked.
Blinking, I tried to disguise the fact that I had not been paying attention to a single thing since we walked inside. Letting my eyes wonder, I almost laughed at how accurate Jimin’s description of his house was. 
Standing in his living room, I marveled at how dark everything was. Black leather sofas, a dark gray fluffy rug, a flat screen, and a black iron fireplace were the stand out pieces. There were a few family photos on the mantle and a fake potted plant beside it, but other than that it was completely barren. It was just as sad and depressing as he said it would be, but instead of feeling disappointed it only made me smile. Everything in here was his and now I was included in that. 
“I love it.”
He laughed, squeezing me impossibly closer, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s the quintessential bachelor pad.”
“I’m not lying,” I argued. “It’s perfect. Very you.”
“Even the dusty, ugly, fake Der Rose Jungkook got me as a housewarming gift?”
“Especially that,” I joked.
“Okay clown,” He laughed, pulling away from my side. “Go sit on the couch and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. Need to warm you up.”
Giving me the remote for the very large television hanging above the fireplace, Jimin promised to be back soon and left me in charge of finding something good to watch. After flicking through a few channels, I ended up settling on 21 Jump Street and ogled at Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete. My dad and I used to watch the show together when I was young, and it brought me back to the few happy times that we had. I really needed to call him.
“Damn that’s a handsome man.”
I jumped, “Jesus you scared me.”
Jimin laughed, setting down two mugs on his coffee table. They were steaming hot and I decided to leave mine to cool off for a few seconds. Taking his seat next to me, Jimin was quick to throw his arm around my shoulders and pull his legs up onto the sofa. 
“Get comfortable,” He said, crossing his legs. “It’s just me.”
“Yeah,” I snorted, curling my legs up next to me and placing my head on his shoulder. “That’s the problem.”
“You’re being extra flirty tonight,” He teased. “I like it.”
I chose to stay quiet and watch the show. This was one of my favorite episodes. Hanson, Hoff, and Loki go undercover to try and solve a string of drive-by shootings between a couple of gangs, and Booker is trying to investigate a dirty cop on the force. I always loved the scenes between Johnny Depp and Holly the most. They were so cute together and the chemistry was crazy even though their characters never ended up together.
Jimin started playing with my hair, his fingers gently caressing my neck before scratching my scalp. It felt amazing and I relaxed even further into his side. After that episode was over, he leaned down and put his head on top of mine. Another episode came on, this was the second part to the previous, and I let my eyes close. This was really nice. And to think I almost let it all go to shit because I could not keep myself from spiraling.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be,” He whispered back, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “Never apologize for being upset.”
Taking a deep breath, I thought about what Hoseok had said. There was no reason to tell him anything right now, or at least, the “L” word did not need to come into conversation. Still, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. Jimin was always willing to listen and I felt awful for lying to him earlier.
“I really like you and sometimes it scares me,” I admitted quietly. “I called Hoseok to see if he had any advice. Sorry I lied about that.”
He shook his head, “I’m not upset with you, angel. Sometimes they scare me, too.”
“Really?” I had never really thought about that before.
“Of course,” He chuckled, moving away to look down at me. I lifted my head in a rare act of bravery. “I don’t think you understand just how amazing you are.”
I smiled lazily, unable to look away from him. He looked so beautiful in this lighting. The tv on one side of his face, the darkness in the rest of the house casting a dark shadow on the rest of it. I noticed his head inching closer, eyes heavily lidded as he watched me, waiting for a reaction. Heart pounding, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tilted my head higher.
“You smell so good,” He murmured, lips brushing mine. “God, you’re so pretty.”
I opened my mouth to respond but was unable to get anything out before his lips were pressed against it. I breathed out through my nose and allowed myself to just enjoy it. His lips were so soft and plump, his upper lip just barely scratching my skin with peach fuzz, and chin ever so gently bumping against mine as we came together. 
My skin was on fire as he invaded every cell in my body until all I could think about was him. His hand gripped the back of my neck and pressed us together roughly, his tongue licking against my bottom lip asking to be let inside. There was nothing he couldn’t ask for now. I mewled embarrassingly when our tongues twisted together. Jimin groaned in response. 
“Is this okay?” He rasped when we pulled apart for air.
I replied by taking his face in my hands and pulling him back in for more. Jimin responded eagerly, gripping my neck tighter and holding me close. I hummed in satisfaction, leaning into his chest. His skin was on fire beneath me and I briefly wondered if his chest got as pink as his cheeks did.
Jimin broke away, dragging my body closer until I was practically laying on his lap, before guiding my mouth back to his. My lips were numb, swollen, and still begging for more. The show was long forgotten, the noise also like static in the background as I suckled on his bottom lip. Jimin whined, fingers twisting into my hair as he held me in place.
“Feeling okay?” He mumbled into my mouth, taking a second to catch his breath.
“Great,” I slurred, before shutting him up again.
I lost track of time as we sat there entangled in one another. Lips hardly able to feel anything anymore, I broke away and tried to calm my racing heart. Jimin took the opportunity to go for my neck, his plush lips delicate against my skin. I shuttered. 
I could feel my panties sticking to my folds, slick gently wetting my thighs as he continued his gentle assault on my neck. He never sucked hard enough to leave marks behind, but after a few moments I could safely say Jimin was a fan of teeth. They scratched my skin softly, tickling me in the process, before his tongue smoothed over any redness that might have popped up. Moaning, I tilted my head back and granted him more access.
“You’re so fucking hot,” He rasped, licking a long stripe up my neck before biting my ear. “So needy.”
I chuckled, the sound breathless. “Do you want to stop?”
“Fuck no.”
I giggled, kissing his cheek, “Such a boy.”
I nodded, kissing the underside of my chin before pecking my lips.
“I’m your boy,” He smiled lazily, kissing me again.
“Yes,” I agreed, unable to stop smiling as I cradled his face between my hands. “My good-looking boy.”
With one final peck on my chin, Jimin leaned back into the sofa and dragged my body down with his. Laying on top of his body, my eyes fixated on the tv. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing now, and I grinned. It was one of my favorite shows to watch when I had a bad day. It was nice to have it with me at this moment. A happy memory with my comfort show in the background only sweetened the already tender moment. 
“She should have been with Spike,” Jimin’s chest rumbled underneath me.
Getting more comfortable, I nodded.
“I kind of like that she decided to stay friends with them both. Tara and Willow were the power couple anyway.”
“Not a fan of Oz?” He started playing with my hair.
“I liked them, too, but for different reasons. The only other couple that comes close to Tara and Willow were Giles and Jenny.”
We were quiet as we watched, small kisses shared during commercial breaks, and I never felt the need to try and open my mouth. Nothing needed to be said when our feelings were so apparent. Hoseok, as usual, was right. I just needed time to breathe and think about things before running head first into a love confession. And if he said anyone with eyes and ears could see how I felt, then there was no real reason for me to say anything. Jimin already knows. He always did.
“God, I’ve always loved that DeSoto Fireflite,” I gushed, eyeing Spike's car hungrily. “The ‘59 model is sexy.”
“Why do you know so much about cars?” He asked.
“My dad’s a mechanic,” I explained. “He owns his own restoration shop back in Pennsylvania and I used to go over there all of the time. I almost ditched swimming to take over the body shop when he lost an employee.”
“You never stop amazing me,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Has he found anything cool recently?”
I grew quiet. Truthfully, I had no clue. It had been almost two years since we last spoke, and I doubted he was looking forward to hearing from me. He had a new family. A new life. One that did not have the space for me in it. My silence must have worried Jimin because he asked if I was okay.
“We don’t talk anymore,” I replied. “He got remarried a few years ago and his wife doesn’t like me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s juvenile, really. He seems happy though, so I don’t push it.”
“They don’t deserve you. You’re too good to be treated like that.”
I laughed, eyes prickling with unshed tears. I did not talk about this often and it felt nice to get it off of my chest. For a long time Victor had been the person I looked to as a father figure, and we still keep in touch. He always calls for holidays and birthdays, checks in randomly, and asks me how I’m doing. He stayed with me through the worst of the damage, and only left Colorado when his daughter decided to move abroad for school. Denver was too expensive to justify the expenses and his new trainee was in Florida. I missed him a lot more than I ever realized.
“I made my own family, though. Couldn’t have picked better.”
Colorado would always be home because that was where pieces of my heart lived. Jin, Andy, and Hoseok were never planning on moving. Minho would be there as long as Tilly was, and she was around for Hoseok. I had a feeling Max would change that, and the two of them may end up starting a new adventure with Minho in tow. A trouple for the ages. That made me grin.
Michigan was starting to feel like my own adventure. New bonds and ties are formed with each passing day. Going back to Colorado helped to put that in perspective. It did not matter if I was there or not, because my family was, and I would always have a place there. Ann Arbor was different.
The person I envisioned myself spending the rest of my life with lived here, his family and friends becoming like my own, and I could never ask him to leave them. When Na-Yeon died someone would need to be around for James and the kids. When Jungkook and Darcy inevitably went their separate ways, he would need a shoulder to cry on. Taehyung and his panic attacks. Milo and his work stresses. All of it meant that someone needed to be around to bring them back to themselves, and I wanted to be a part of that in any way they would allow me.
“I’m really happy that I met you,” I told Jimin, eyes not truly focusing on the show anymore. “Being here with you- I couldn’t ask for more.”
A kiss on my head, “I feel the same way, angel.”
I fell asleep like that. Jimin had to wake me up a little after one in the morning to see if I wanted to sleep at his place. I politely declined since I promised the Andersons that I would be back for breakfast tomorrow and left shortly thereafter. I barely even focused on the ride home, tired and drunk off of the high of the evening. 
Calvin was awake when I walked through the front door. A plate of cookies in front of him, he held up a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs. Violet had been strict about his diet as of late. The last time he had gone to the doctor his cholesterol levels were slightly elevated, and we had been eating very bland, not all that great food ever since. I smiled sleepily, stealing a cookie for myself as payment. We would never speak of this night again.
Finishing up my cookie, I quickly peeled out of my clothes before heading into the bathroom to do my skincare routine. Exhausted, I was barely aware of the text I sent to Jimin before I climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head ever hit the pillow.
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“You’re still not hitting your best time,” I spoke into my headset, looking at the stop watch in my hand. “We’re only at 90%. I want 92%.”
Jimin groaned, frustrated and tired. We had been at this all morning and he was not making as much progress as I hoped he would. I had prepared an 200s anaerobic training set so we could work on his endurance. For the last few weeks we were focused on speed and mastering his butterflies and turns. Now that we were feeling more comfortable training together I was moving onto those issues I had at the beginning. So far it was not going over well.
“This is bullshit,” He huffed, pulling his goggles up. “I’ve been at this for hours and haven’t done anything.”
I shook my head and fought to keep myself neutral. Training had become a bit challenging to work around given our new relationship status, but we both agreed to keep that out of our sessions. We had another date next Friday. He was refusing to tell me where we were going, the only hint being we would be going to Jungkook’s game, but the rest was a mystery. 
“You’re getting better,” I replied, holding the microphone closer to my mouth. I had woken up with a sore throat and could not speak loud enough on my own, so we were finally using my old earpiece to communicate. “You went from 88% to 90%. I think with some more drills we can get up a bit more.”
He went to put his goggles back on, but I told him to stop.
“We’re done for the day,” I said, rubbing my raw throat. “You’re getting angry and I’m losing my voice.”
He stared at me, glowering childishly, and crossed his arms across his chest. Lifting my head a little higher, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. It was a challenge, one we both knew meant I was losing my patience. Normally he would back down at this point, tucking his tail between his legs, and going to the back to get changed. Today, it would seem, was not a normal day.
“No we’re not,” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “I’m not where I want to be.”
“Yes. We. Are,” I made a show of emphasizing every word, tossing my clipboard onto the duffle at my feet. “Something is bothering you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you’ve been acting like a brat all morning.” I ripped my whistle off my neck, bent down, and shoved both it and the stopwatch into the pocket of the duffle bag. Jimin was still pouting in the center of the pool. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m sick and you’re angry. Just go get dressed.”
My throat burned. I talked too much and had not given the sore skin time to rest. Rubbing my forehead, I breathed through my nose in an attempt to cool off. His attitude was really starting to piss me off.
Angry, Jimin made his way out of the pool far louder than necessary. I sighed when the locker room door slammed behind him. I got us off on the wrong foot this morning by being snippy and curt with my answers. His foul mood only made it worse. As training went on I had gotten back into the groove, my annoyance over being ill forgotten, but my bad behavior had obviously bothered him enough to keep him frustrated with me for the rest of the morning. It did not help that I never apologized. 
I took more time packing up my things today hoping that I could “bump into” Jimin before leaving. I tried to think of the right way to word my own frustrations without undermining what happened between us. I hurt his feelings, and I needed to take ownership of that. 
“Sorry for acting like an ass.”
I shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped on the wet floor. Rebalancing on the balls of my feet, I looked over to see Jimin standing at the locker room door. He was still wearing his cap but threw on a pair of shorts. 
“I thought you were taking a shower,” I rasped, all of the fire from earlier gone. 
“Me too,” He ran a hand over his face and leaned against the closed door. “Just felt wrong letting you leave like that.”
I nodded, swallowing thickly. My saliva irritated my throat more and I winced in pain. I really needed something to help with the pain. 
“It’s not just you,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “I acted like an asshole this morning and you had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize, either.”
“Doesn’t mean I should have gotten all pissy,” He sighed, looking more relaxed now than he had all day. “I’ve always had a bad temper, but that’s not an excuse to talk to you like that. It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”
He was doing that thing again, the thing where he downplayed his own hurt feelings and redirected blame onto himself. Not wanting his mind to go down that rabbit hole, I walked over to him. I rarely went to this side of the room. I usually used the employee shower in the back since I felt less exposed, but Jimin never felt ashamed of his nakedness. The only reason he started putting shorts on is because he noticed how awkward I became.
“It’s okay to be mad at me,” I soothed, reaching out to take hold of his hand. “We both acted a little childishly. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Nodding, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder. 
“I just feel bad,” He whispered into my skin. “You’re not feeling well and here I am making it worse. I’m such a dick sometimes.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close. Despite our second date being postponed due to training and the charity event this weekend, the physical affection we showed one another only ramped up. Kissing was Jimin’s new favorite thing, and I hoped we could take it a step further this weekend. Even if he was cool with taking things slow I had come to find out that I was not. Maybe after a nice conversation we could fool around a little more.
“So am I,” My voice was almost gone. “Now, can we stop arguing and get breakfast? A hot chocolate is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.”
He chuckled, lifting his head to look at me. He was no longer angry, eyes dancing, and I felt a surge of energy run through me. Sick or not, I would do just about anything to keep him smiling. Even if it meant doing the hardest thing imaginable: apologizing. Stepping out of my embrace, Jimin took hold of my hand and walked us back to my duffle bag. He always insisted on carrying it.
“I think a hot tea would be much better for a sore throat,” He mused, “But if it’s cocoa you want, well, who am I to stop you?”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned into his side, “Who’s paying?”
“Me,” He scoffed. “Obviously. Denny’s is way cheaper than putting gas in my truck.”
That made me laugh loudly, the pain in my throat forgotten. We had a rule between the two of us. If you didn’t buy breakfast then you were buying gas for the day. Jimin had taken extra time coming to scoop me up this morning since I woke up sick and refused to stay in bed. After a lengthy conversation about money, we both agreed that he could pay for all of our dates if I could split up other costs with him. While not happy about it, he conceded.
“And they say chivalry is dead,” I teased, rolling my eyes.
The gym was filled, always packed just before and after lunch time. The lull of the afternoon would carry over until around 6 and we had a decent sized group until closing. When Giselle opened up at 5:30 the following morning, the same group of guys were always the first ones in the door. I had spoken to them a handful of times and helped spot one of them once or twice, but that was the most of my interactions with anyone that exercised here. None of us really wanted to be bothered, and kept mostly to ourselves.
Giselle and Sam were chatting at the host stand when we walked by. Jimin was always nice enough to greet his staff, but never stuck around for too long. They were all friendly, and he was very good friends with Yoongi and Megan, but he was too focused on keeping up with his daily schedule to hang out. Despite being late to everything, Jimin was an extremely organized person and hated it when his plans were disrupted. 
“Where are you two headed?” The young woman asked, a genuine smile on her face as she glanced down at our hands. 
“Breakfast,” I answered. Giselle was easily my favorite person here, her only competition being Megan or Yoongi, and I always tried to make time for her when she was available. “Do you need something?”
She shook her head, “Not right now, but would you be okay with bringing in a case of the blue Monsters tomorrow? We just ran out and Yoongi is feeling it hard.”
I laughed and agreed. Yoongi was the resident caffeine addict on staff and would go through pot after pot of coffee during his shift. After Drew, the general manager, told him he was using too many of the Keurig cups, he had moved onto energy drinks. The Lo-Carb Monsters were his favorite, and I was not surprised to hear he was out. He bought a four pack every other day.
“I’ll DoorDash a few packs to the building right now. I owe him anyway.”
“Are you ordering from Busch’s?” Sam asked. 
I nodded, “Probably. I know they’ll have them. What’s up?”
“Can you throw in a couple of sushi rolls?” He asked, and my phone vibrated in the side pocket of my leggings. “I sent you $20. I totally forgot to pack my lunch and I’m swamped with sessions today.”
“Sure man. Spicy crab rolls?”
“You’re an angel,” Sam sighed. “Make sure you get plenty of rest. You sound like shit.”
“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “See you tomorrow. I think Park will be riding solo tonight.”
Jimin chuckled, “I’m planning on skipping the gym tonight, too.”
We walked out of the building, hands swinging between us. The feeling was so familiar and yet so foreign. I had not dated since Joon’s passing and was severely out of practice, but Jimin made it feel easy. 
“You? Skipping leg day? Scandalous.”
Jimin laughed, sounding like sunshine. “And let my girl sit at home sick by herself?”
That shut me up. After learning I was a sucker for pet names, Jimin had gotten into the habit of using them to get his way. Feeling my face heating up, I forced a laugh as I let go of his hand and rounded the truck. My girl. It made me feel both terrified and comforted at the same time.
My girl…Angel…Angel Girl… I couldn’t pick a favorite.
“Do you mind if I come over?” Jimin sounded less confident now. 
I had barely noticed him starting the truck. Must have zoned out again. 
“I don’t have much to do,” I admitted. “My place is pretty boring.”
“You’re there,” He shrugged. “And you have a tv. I’m sure we can think of something.”
“Okay,” I hid my smile behind my hand and started to look out of the window.
Saline was very beautiful. At this time of year, many of the trees were barren but I knew they would look gorgeous in the summer. I frowned. I was set to be back in Colorado by then if I could not make up my mind about the move.
“Don’t get quiet on me, gran-gran,” I snorted. “You don’t blink when you zone out and it’s creepy.”
“I so do,” I laughed, turning to look at the pretty boy. “You are such a liar.”
That did nothing but make him laugh. “Might want to order those drinks, by the way.”
I thanked him for the reminder and quickly made a small shopping cart. I threw in a few extras. Coconut creamer for Skye, a new box of Hot Pockets for Drew and Dominic, and a large box of cookies and chips for the rest of the staff. Before I could check out, a page popped up of previous things I had ordered before and I quickly added one of those expensive bags of cookies. Those were Megan’s favorite and she had bought me two coffees this week. 
“Do you want anything?” I asked Jimin.
“Maybe some seaweed chips?” We were turning into the Denny’s parking lot. “Thanks, angel.”
I added in a few other items. Band-aids because I knew we were running low, more tea bags, the coffee pods Yoongi liked, and a few different packets of the candy for Giselle. She had such a sweet tooth it was a miracle she only had one cavity. It took me a bit longer to find Jimin’s favorite brand of seaweed chips, and I decided to toss in a few different flavors of the spicy ramen he loves to eat as well. Finally happy with my order, I checked out and messaged Sam that I secured his lunch. He sent me the sunglasses emoji as a reply.
“Earth to Y/N.”
I jumped, blinking rapidly, and saw a thoroughly amused Jimin staring at me. We were parked, the truck was off, and his hand was already on the handle. We both laughed but did not say anything else. If Jimin could be late all of the time then I could space out whenever I wanted.
“I’m so ready for these blueberry pancakes,” Jimin threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “What are you getting?”
I shrugged, “Hot cocoa and an omelet, probably.”
“An omlet does sound really good,” He mumbled to himself, holding open the door for me.
“That’s why I’m getting one,” I mumbled, pausing at the door to kiss him. “I’m thinking  ham and cheese.”
Jimin smiled, caught off guard by the gesture, “Shit, if omelets get me one of those then I’ll eat eggs for the rest of my life.”
I laughed, the sound echoing in the small entrance area. This Denny’s was always busy but I could see a few empty booths in the back. Perfect.
“You think I’m playing,” He continued, wrapping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a hold of the second door. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I had to.”
I rolled my eyes, “You don’t need to live off eggs to get kisses, you big baby.”
“No,” He chuckled, swooping down and stealing a kiss of his own. “But it sounded really cool.”
The hostess smiled at our little exchange and I fixed her with a deadpan stare.
“Typical.”
She laughed, “Right this way.”
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Hobi: Are you excited about the charity event?
Me: Park’s going to kill it
Hobi: Nervous about getting seen?
Me: Not at all. I doubt anyone there will recognize me anyway.
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Closing the trunk of my car, I sighed. We were on our way to the charity meet, and Jimin was running a few minutes behind. Fiona needed to go to a shop soon and Jimin was driving her like she was going to explode any second. It was frustrating as I hated being late, but it was impossible to be angry with him. We had planned on leaving the day before the meet and getting a hotel room so we could both be as well rested as possible. 
To say I was nervous about sharing a room for the night was an understatement. Jimin had gotten a suite with two beds so I would feel more comfortable (his words, not mine), but the added security of separation did little to calm my racing thoughts. I was not planning on having sex this weekend, Jimin needed to keep his energy for the meet, but I would be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind more than once.
“Are you okay?”
Snapping out of my trance, I turned to find the man of the hour stood next to me. There was a large duffle bag around his shoulders, and his oversized hoodie only made him look even smaller. Smiling, he kissed my cheek in greeting. 
“Fine,” I breathed, smiling back. “Almost ready?”
Jimin nodded, “Just need to put this bag in the back. You didn’t forget any of your meds, right?”
He had been spending most of his time at my house recently and was well acquainted with my large pill collection. At first he had been concerned as to why I turned down taking medication for my illness back on Monday, but stopped questioning it so much when I told him about the other four pills I take daily. I always avoided taking extra stuff if I could.
“They’re in my suitcase.”
We were going to be in Allendale until Sunday. The meet was on Saturday, and while it was only a little over 2 hours away, I was positive Jimin was going to be exhausted after we were finished. This was an event super close to his heart and he had told me how nervous he felt about attending. Spending two nights seemed like a simple solution to deal with both of our anxieties, and even more so when I brought up my fears of being recognized and harassed. Jimin turned red with anger when I told him about my previous experiences with the news and promised he would never let that happen to me again. 
“I guess we should stop by my mom’s house on the way out,” He mused. “I know she wanted to come but she’s been really sick.”
Na-Yeon’s avoidance of treatment was finally beginning to take its toll on her physical health. I had hardly seen her at all since I came back from Colorado, and from what Jimin tells me she’s done nothing but throw up and sleep. James had told me that she was trying to stay alive long enough to see Jimin win an Olympic medal, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible. I was hoping to speak with her myself and see if there was any way I could convince her to start her chemo back up again. It was killing Jimin to see his mother this way.
“I was thinking,” I handed my keys over to Jimin. “Maybe your mom and I could have a little girl’s day when we get back.”
“Why?” He chuckled, 
I shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant was better than honesty. I was not sure how Jimin would take my intrusion, but I still wanted to try it anyway. I loved Na-Yeon, and hoped that I could talk her out of her decision. There had been a time when I would have let myself die, too, but I was fortunate enough to have Andy fighting for me. I probably would have never walked again had it not been for her and Hoseok.
“Just want to be closer to her,” It was not a lie. I was dating her son and I wanted us to be like mother and daughter the same way I had been with Namjoon’s family. “She’s been looking a little down lately. Maybe getting out of the house a little might cheer her up.”
Jimin grinned at me, his expression soft. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead. My chest warmed. He was always touching me as though I was made of glass.
“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked.
“Once or twice,” I replied, a giggling bubbling up my throat. “We should get going. Traffic is going to start piling up soon.”
Piling into the car, I relaxed into the passenger seat and took a hold of Jimin’s hand. He chuckled, pulled away to put the car into drive, and placed his hand on my thigh. I could feel a light layer of sweat on his palms. I put my hand on top of his.
“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” I asked him, tightening my grip.
“Yeah, angel,” He replied, smiling over at me. “I’m good. I like driving.”
“Still,” I argued, “You’re going to be swimming all day tomorrow. I feel bad making you drive, too.”
“Don’t,” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes never left the road. “I’m happy you’re here with me. All that other shit is just details.”
That shut me up. We drove in silence for the few minutes that it took to get to his parent’s house. I decided to stay in the car while he went to say goodbye. Jimin deserved some alone time with his folks, and I had sent a text to his mother this morning promising to send her a video of him swimming. All she cared about was making sure she could have a phone call with him when everything was over with. Na-Yeon missed watching him swim more than anything and it broke her heart that she was too ill to come with us today.
James waved at me from the front door and I returned the gesture with a huge smile. He had been so excited to see me after finding out about Jimin and I. James was extremely supportive and had already started to call me his daughter. I had yet to return the favor, but secretly loved it. Jimin would get so embarrassed, he’d turn red and scold his dad in Korean. Na-Yeon would watch them silently, but send me a smile and a wink when she thought no one was looking. Wedding bells were already sounding off in their heads.
I thought it would bother me more than it did. Instead, I felt calmed by their excitement. I had been really worried about the age gap between the two of us, but having our family and friends be so accepting had taken that weight off of my shoulders. 
Ne-Yeon’s little head poked out from behind her husband’s shoulder. She looked worn and had bags under her eyes, but her smile was just as big and beautiful as it always had been. Touched that she had thought to come and greet me, I got out of the car.
“What are you doing out of bed?” I teased, wrapping my arms around the frail woman.
She returned my hug with full force. It was concerning that her squeezes felt feather light. I hoped she was eating enough.
“Bodybuilding,” She joked, her voice lacking the usual spunk it carried. When I went to let go, she held me tighter. “Take care of him.”
I nodded, “I will.”
Jimin and I left a few minutes later. Na-Yeon was hanging off of him for as long as she could, her little arm wrapped around his waist as the four of us stood in their doorway. James and I never made physical contact, but Jimin always swore his dad preferred me to him. The older man was always smiling at me, his eyes sparkling brightly, and his mouth moving so quickly at times it was difficult to understand what he was saying. Today was one of those days and I struggled to pay attention to anything else.
“Dad,” Jimin interrupted Jame’s latest fishing story. “We have to go.”
James deflated.
“When you come back?” He asked me. 
“Sunday,” I replied. “We should be back for dinner.”
He smiled again, “I make daegusal-jorim for you. It’s spicy.”
I grinned. If I remember right, that was some sort of cod dish. James was always making some type of seafood since he was fishing constantly. Na-Yeon often complained about never eating any other meat. Jimin and I were always happy to indulge ourselves in his father’s cooking.
“I’m cooking,” Ne-Yeon said.
I looked at her, “Really?”
The last time I had eaten her food was Jimin’s birthday back in October. She made a huge pot of kimchi stew since it was her son’s favorite, and I remembered it being delicious. Sometimes Jimin would talk about all of his favorite foods he grew up eating, and 9 times out of 10 it would be something his mother had made him. Apparently, according to Jimin, his father could only cook fish. Na-Yeon, however, could make magic out of nothing. 
“Yes,” She insisted. “Need to celebrate my baby.”
Jimin flushed, his mother’s fingers pinching at his fat cheeks. “Mom.”
“I’ll try to get us back early enough to help you out,” I offered, checking my watch. “We really do need to go, though. Trying to beat the traffic.”
With a few hugs and a couple of kisses on the cheek, Jimin and I left. I had finally grown used to Jimin playing the radio while he drove, and I enjoyed watching him as he sang along. Catching my eye, Jimin grinned widely and serenaded me. He had a pretty voice, soft and sweet, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.
It was shocking just how comfortable I was in this car with him. Instead of staring out the window, watching the roads like a hawk, I was laughing and enjoying his presence. With the radio blasting, I opened my mouth and sang back. Jimin’s eyes widening, his voice growing more confident as he took my hand in his.
“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride,” He giggled, squeezing my fingers.
“You're toxic,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m slippin’ under.”
“With a taste of a poison paradise,” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”
Satisfied with myself, I leaned back in my seat and watched him sing. My actions only emboldened his own, and soon Jimin was singing his heart out in the driver's seat. His hand on my thigh moved closer and closer to my core only to slide back down when he realized what he was doing. Each time I laughed it off, but inside I was yearning for him to do more. Not in the car, I might have a real panic attack then, but possibly when we were in the safety of our hotel room.
The drive was quicker than normal. We had beaten the traffic by an hour and our impromptu karaoke session in the car made the time fly. The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled up at the hotel and Jimin was practically skipping inside. Making him happy was something I took great pride in, and my little performance in the car had made him radiant.
My chest puffed out when I caught the front desk receptionist eyed him hungrily. Her pretty eyes were unable to stop staring at the beautiful boy beside me. Hand in hand, we took our key card and made our way to the elevator.
When the doors shut, Jimin pulled me into his arms. I sighed in relief. He smelled so good, his chest warm and hard, and I could smell the faint hint of his after shave. It didn’t matter if we won or lost this event. Nothing was going to destroy the high I was on.
“I’m nervous,” Jimin mumbled, letting me go when the elevator dinged. “I know a few of the guys I’ll be swimming with tomorrow. They’re all really good.”
I nodded, “You’re better.”
“How do you know that?” I had never heard him sound so unsure of himself before. “I haven’t been competing like I normally do this season.”
“Because you’re Jimin Park,” I replied easily, the confidence in my tone unmistakable. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N. We’ve both put in a lot of work and time into this, and you’re going to be great.”
“But-”
I shushed him. Taking the keycard from his hand, I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. Behind me, Jimin breathed through his nose. It was a loud, defeated sound. Stepping into the room, I gestured for Jimin to walk inside and closed the door behind us.
It was a standard hotel room. A large queen sized bed was in the middle, a small love seat beside it, and a mini fridge beside the large flat screen hanging on the wall. The air was stale, like no one had been in here in a while, and I could faintly see fading stains on some kind in the dark carpet. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have gotten the nicer place Taehyung had suggested.
“5 Stars?” Jimin dead-panned, the little smirk on his face telling me he was joking.
I sauntered closer to him, hands resting on his chest, “Of course. Only the best for an Olympian.”
He sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Thank you angel.”
Still feeling high off of his presence, I kissed his cheek.
“I was talking about me.”
“Yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing my own. “You think you’re funny?”
I nodded, dazed, “Hilarious.”
“Ass,” He breathed, before finally kissing me properly. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Another kiss. Then another. Then another. “It’s distracting.”
“What should we do about that?” I choked out, chasing after his retreating face. “Where are you going?”
He giggled cheekily, eyes glittering mischievously. 
“We need to eat, don’t we?”
I rolled my eyes and huffed, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Fuck the food.”
He pulled away again, his face far more serious now. All of the playful lust flowing through my vein was stopped dead in its tracks leaving a chill in its wake. Fearful I had been too forward, I immediately took a step back and shied away from him like I had been burned. Jimin noticed this and shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. I let him.
“I want to,” He told me. “I’m just not ready for that yet, and I think you deserve better than some nasty motel in Allendale.”
I nodded, my understanding of his fears doing little to dull the sting of his rejection. I knew it was not a real rejection, he had just asked for more time, but my heart ached with the memory of him moving away from me. It made me feel disgusted. Still, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. I hoped he could tell I was okay with his request. It was only the hurt feelings that made me want to run away and hide.
“I get it,” Even I could hear the sickeningly-sweet edge my voice had taken on and hated it. I was so bad at this shit. “We can take our time. Whatever you want.”
Jimin frowned but chose not to say anything. Pulling back from him, I wandered to the tv and picked up the remote. A home renovation show was on and I knew I would not be paying enough attention to the tv to care how awful the acting was. 
“What’s for lunch?” I asked absentmindedly, trying to come across more relaxed than I felt. “I saw a pizza place on the way in if you’re feeling it.”
Silence.
“Maybe something less greasy,” I mused, already feeling myself growing panicked. “Milo said there’s a really good Italian place not too far from here-”
“Baby.”
I stopped talking and looked at the pretty boy standing across the room. He looked so sad and it broke my heart. I hated it when he didn't smile. I hated it even more when it was my fault.
“Talk to me,” He urged, coming to stand beside me. He made no moves to touch me for which I was grateful. “I know you’re upset about something.”
I shrugged, “I take rejection about as well as anybody else, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it so I’m moving on. I know we’re both hungry so I’m trying to figure out food. I’m sorry if I’m being weird again.”
He nodded, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
I reached out to hug him. Jimin was happy to take me into his arms. I loved how safe and secure I felt in his presence. I was slightly taller than he was, my body made for swimming, but he never seemed to mind. Leaning down, I tucked my head underneath his chin and closed my eyes. Breathe, I told myself.
“You didn’t mean to,” I replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured or rushed into anything.”
He chuckled, “I want to have sex with you. Just not right now. Not tonight.”
I closed my eyes, “Later?”
That made him laugh. I grinned in response. My foul mood left with a kiss to the top of my head. We were fine. There was no reason to get insecure. We were fine. Jimin liked me. I liked him. That’s all that matters.
I adjusted myself and leaned my head on his. Jimin buried his face into my neck and left a few gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. I whined in response, curling into him. Jimin groaned, the sound strained. I felt it in my core.
“Definitely,” He rasped, giving my neck another kiss. “We need to stop before I change my mind.”
I giggled, pulling away from him. If he wanted space and time then I would give that to him, even if it meant making the both of us a little uncomfortable for the next two days. With the awkward moment behind us, we started planning out dinner and I was confident in our chances at winning tomorrow. Even though it was a charity event, we were both excited about the donation money going to the hospital where his mother received treatment. Jimin especially.
After our late lunch (we decided on pizza), we came back to the hotel. I was adamant that Jimin take the day off from swimming to preserve his energy for tomorrow. His old coach (asshole) had always forced him to swim at every possible moment, and would become angry and condescending when Jimin asked for time off. I swore the next time I saw Hamilton I’d give him a piece of my mind, but knew that I would ultimately leave him be. The guy was a slimeball and didn’t deserve my time and energy.
Crawling into bed that night, we talked for a few hours while a crime tv show played. Jimin enjoyed pillowtalk and I just enjoyed his company too much to tell him to stop talking. Once it was around ten, his eyes closed in the middle of a sentence and light snores followed soon after. That was another thing he was good at- falling asleep wherever and whenever.
I got out of bed a few minutes later, my mind too busy to go to sleep. As quietly as I could, I walked out of the hotel room. Jimin did not move an inch. 
Hoseok picked up after the third ring.
“Do you know what time it is?” He answered, fake anger in his voice.
“Yeah, 10,” I rolled my eyes. “Way before your bedtime. Are you free?”
Hoseok hummed, “Yeah. What’s up?”
I groaned, embarrassment creeping up my spine. I would have preferred to talk to Andy about this, but I knew she was working tonight and would not be free. Tilly was an absolute no go, and I did not feel comfortable enough with anybody in Saline to call them this late to talk about my dry sex life. They were all Jimin’s friends first anyway.
“Jimin says he’s not ready for sex and I’m trying not to overthink it. I need your advice, oh wise one.”
Hoseok laughed, “Dude, I can’t help you. My girl is the same way.”
Shocked, I tried to remember if I had ever heard about this mystery girl before. Then, it hit me. Andy had mentioned something about a blonde girl. She must be serious for Hoseok to casually bring her up in conversation. I wonder how long he’d been hiding her from the rest of us.
“Your girl, huh? And who might that be?”
Hoseok sighed, “I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a swimmer.”
Racking my brain, I tried to think of every blonde swimmer I knew of. MacKenzie Boyd was way too young, Rhonda Yara lived in Florida most of the year, and Brittney Powell was just not Hoseok’s type. That left Opal Simmons and Tove Alfson. They both lived in Colorado, both were fantastic swimmers, and both seemed like nice girls. Opal was the older of the two, so I was more inclined to believe that was who he was talking about, but this was all under the assumption that the girl was a professional swimmer.
“Do you remember Opal Simmons?”
I snorted. So I was right. Feeling good about myself, I nodded and told him that I did. She was pretty, but I remembered thinking she was unremarkable. She had been doing extremely well this season and swimming more than she ever had before. I had a good feeling about her run at this year’s Olympics. She had always swam in teams and this was her first time doing a solo season.
“How’d you meet her?” I asked, leaning against the metal railing across from the door.
“I went to go see Ozzie and she stopped by to talk to him for a few minutes. She took one look at me, smiled, and gave me her number. And you know I’m a sucker for a confident woman.”
“So you took her to the most expensive bar in Colorado Springs?” I joked.
Hoseok spluttered, “How’d you know about that?”
“Well international super spy,” I teased, “You blew your cover. Jin saw you and told Andy. Andy told me. I didn’t tell anybody.”
The swimmer groaned and I could not help but laugh at his expense. We were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another. A few tender moments sprinkled in between. I remembered when people thought we were a couple simply because we were friends of the opposite sex, but I had never felt anything but sisterly love for the guy. We were always there for each other through thick and thin, and right now I was grateful for his crude sense of humor. Hoseok rarely took things seriously and I needed a bit of fun. It made my anxiety feel less scary.
“We had fun,” He defended. “She’s fucking awesome, man. You’re really going to like her. Next time you’re in town, bring your boy so we can go on a double date.”
“Will do.”
We had a momentary pause. That meant Hoseok was thinking. He tried to choose his words carefully when he was being serious, so I knew that meant we were going to actually start talking about the reason I called. He was far more easy going than I was, so I was sure Opal’s timidness did not bother him at all. I was the spaz of the group only being outdone by Andrea.
“Did he say why?” Hoseok finally asked.
I told him about what had happened this afternoon and the small moments before. The way he always stopped things before they could get any further. How kissing him sometimes felt like he was saying goodbye. How genuinely upset he was by my reaction to his constant pausing. Hoseok listened to everything before saying another word.
“Maybe he’s had something happen to him in the past,” Hoseok brought up. That was something I had not really considered before. “He just sounds a little scared and nervous. Not unwilling, just hesitant. You should talk to him about it. I mean really talk to him. That’s what I did with Opal and it made going at her pace seem less daunting.”
“So you don’t think I’m doing anything wrong?” I finally asked, voicing my fears from earlier. I could not tell Jimin that’s what I was afraid of, it felt too childish, but Hoseok was used to my ever present anxieties. “I really didn’t mean to invalidate him.”
Hoseok chuckled, “I think you’re doing just fine, babe. You just need to learn how to relax and let shit happen. He likes you. He told you he wants to have sex with you directly. Don’t let yourself ruin this, okay?”
I nodded, feeling a frog forming in my throat. It felt wrong to cry right now, but it was the most therapeutic way to handle how frustrated I was with myself. I was too old to act like this. Too strong and independent. This really should not hurt me the way that it does, and yet I could feel myself closing off again.
The door behind me opened and I startled, almost dropping my phone. Whipping around I saw Jimin standing there, no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. Dark hair a wild mess, he rubbed his eyes and tried his best to look more awake than he felt. My heart melted, some of the stress I felt moments before lessening. He was here. We were fine. I was just being overdramatic. I just needed to breathe.
“I have to get some sleep,” I told Hoseok, eyes never leaving Jimin’s body. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Talk to you then,” I hung up.
Jimin’s eyes searched my face and I could feel a few escaped tears on my cheeks. I felt small under his watchful gaze, but the gentleness in his eyes never wavered. I stood there stupidly, unable to move.
“Come back to bed,” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”
And because he made me behave like a good little lap dog, I crawled into that bed without protest. Pulling me into his arms, Jimin held me close and tight. I relaxed and let his body heat warm me up. I had not realized how cold I had gotten and shivered. Jimin kissed my nose and got comfortable.
“Don’t leave me,” He rasped, already falling back asleep. “Please?”
I almost cried again. He sounded so lost and defeated. Maybe Hoseok was right. Maybe something happened to him that made sex feel terrifying. What it could be I had no idea, but I hoped that with time he could help me understand. As desperately I wanted him to know me- I wanted to know him.
“I promise I won’t,” I whispered, kissing his chest.
His arms squeezed me gently before there was nothing but snores and the sound of the A/C in the room.
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae
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linos-luna · 10 months ago
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Our Doll ❣️🔪 (Pt. 5)
Yandere!Chan x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Changbin
(pt. 4)
Warnings: Yandere! , Smut, Obsession, Stalking
————————————————— 🌼
Our Doll (Pt. 5)
“Hey Binnie, Are you okay?”
Changbin blinked a few times when hearing your question; he didn’t even realize that he was staring off. 
“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” He chuckled nervously while rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb. He was feeling guilty. He broke the promise he made to you. Chan knew where you were and that he’s been seeing you. In fact, He was right outside, waiting in the car. And this man was patient. It’s almost been two hours and he hasn’t texted or complained once, completely trusting that his best friend will be coming out with his darling doll when ready. 
So far, You’ve had a simple breakfast and now was chatting with Changbin in the living room. It was about moving. You wanted to go apartment hunting soon and you would’t mind Changbin coming along. Actually, you grew to really like him. He gave you all his attention and showered you with love. He was also getting a little better with his obsessive behavior. It was still there and caused some issues but at least he was trying and you actually liked how protective he was. Perhaps you were falling in love… how crazy.
“Doll...?”
“Yes, Binnie?” You replied with a small smile.
Changbin felt your reply sting. You called him that nickname with endearment and he knew that.
“Y-you look very beautiful today.” 
“Oh thank you.” You said with a giggle and light blush.
“Um… there’s that new cafe that opened…” he looked down at your hand and squeezed it lightly. “I know we just ate… but maybe we could get some coffee and snack?”
“Oh sure!” 
He nodded and gently rubbed you cheek. “Y/n… You’re the most perfect woman in the world… practically a living doll.”
It was a sweet sentiment and you couldn’t help smiling. “Well… you’re not too bad yourself.”
Before he could say anything else, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Lets go to the cafe now.”
Changbin nodded and stood up, still holding your hand before sitting back down.
“Y/n... baby I…” he stuttered, unable to make eye contact with you. “I-I have something to tell you…”
“What’s wrong?”
“You know… I-I made a promise to you… to keep you safe…”
“Yeah…?” you grew suspicious, feeling uneasy by his tone and demeanor.
“A-And I love you!” He held both your hands tight. “B-but I… Please don’t be mad…”
“What did you do…?”
“Y/n, I love you! You know that b-but I had to!”
“Changbin…” you paused, biting you lip. “Y-you didn’t… tell—?”
“I did!” He interrupted.
“How could you?!”
“N-no! You see I had too!” He panicked as you pulled away from him. “Chan is may best friend! A-and he loves you too! He just wants—!”
“I don’t care what he wants!” You cried while standing up quickly. “Y-You betrayed me! I-I thought you loved me!”
“No no, Y/n!” He said while also standing, tears forming. “I do love you!”
“Then why did you do that?!”
“I just—… I-I—…” He stuttered. “He’ll be gentle! H-he won’t hurt you, I promise! We just wanna—!”
“He’s outside… isn’t he...?” You asked solemnly.
“Y/n…”
“And to think… I was starting to fall in love with you…” you sighed while looking down, tears rolling down your cheeks.
Changbin felt your words like a stab to the heart. You were right; How could he do this?
In this moment, he had to make an important decision… the most important one he’s ever made: His best friend or the love of his life. 
Chan has been his best friend for years! They were practically brothers. Heck, he only knew of you because Chan would show him pictures. But you… well he truely believes that you are his one and only love. His soulmate. His perfect little doll. 
After the internal argument, he made a decision… and someone wasn’t going to like it.
“Y/n—’ 
“No Changbin, I don’t wanna hear it…” you sighed while wiping tears.
“No, y/n.” He grabbed your hand. “I’m not taking you to Chan.”
“W-what?”
“I made a promise to protect you… and… I’m gonna do just that…”
You looked at him a bit confused. Why would he tell his friend where you were only to back out just now?  
“I-I love you… and I have to protect you… I have to protect my precious Doll…” He said while lightly squeezing your hand. “I won’t let him get you…”
“But if he’s outside… How are you supposed to of that…? We’re basically trapped here.” 
The man bit his tongue while thinking about it. You’re right. But he had to think of something. 
“Where’s the building’s parking garage?” He asked suddenly. 
“Basement level? The elevator and stairs to get there are down the hall, just 2 doors down.” 
“And how many exits and entrances are there?” 
“Two but either way you go, It’ll lead to the same main road…”
It was hard for Changbin to think clearly at the moment but he needed to have a plan. “How about—?’ 
A sudden knock at the door had you both jump in place; it was Chan, and he was getting impatient. 
“B-Binnie!” You yelped in a loud whisper only for him to cover your mouth before dragging you to the bedroom. 
“The window!” He said suddenly while opening and removing the screen from your window. He grabbed some cash from his wallet and stuffed it in your pocket before pushing you. “You need to leave now.”
“B-but we’re on the second floor!”
“Do your best to climb… hide at that gas station. Wait two hours and get on a bus to the next town.”
“B-binnie—”
“I’ll call you in a few hours. We’ll meeting up a-and I’ll take care of you forever!
“N-no Binnie I can’t!” Your heart was racing as you looked out the window and tears formed “P-please no”
The knocking at the front door only got louder.
 “O-okay… Hide in the closet. I-I’ll think of something.”
You nodded and hid as he went to the living room, letting his older friend in. 
“Binnie, you were taking too long.” Chan grunted. “Where is she?”
“Not here….” He replied bluntly.
“What? Don’t lie to me!”
“Hyung—”
“I’m sick of your selfishness! What kinda friend are you?!” Chan yelled, sounding quite hurt. “I shared with you a beautiful doll, and now you are keeping her to yourself!”
Now Changbin felt even worse, he betrayed his friend. How could he do that??
You could hear all this from the closet. It began to worry you that Chan was going to manipulate him into handing you over. 
Much to your surprise, he was actually quiet and you could tell just by his voice alone that Chan was getting irritated.
“Changbin, I swear to god… where is she?” He grunted. “So we could take her home….”
The younger man was silent, only looking down at the floor.
“Changbin!”
“No!” He yelled suddenly. “S-she’s mine! I-I have to protect her!”
Chan was surprised. Heck, Changbin was surprised himself. He’s never yelled back at his older friend before.
But Chan wasn’t amused, instead he pushed his friend out of the way and started looking around, going to the kitchen and the hallway closet. He made his way to your room and Changbin followed, very worried.
You held your breath as he got near the closet. This was really it. You knew in this moment, your freedom was about to be gone. Why fight it?
The door swung open and you were face to face with Chan. He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re safe, babydoll. I was so worried!”
You were expecting him to harshly pull you out and yell but that didn’t happen. Yeah he pulled you out, but instead of yelling, he hugged you tight. And you could’ve sworn you heard some soft weeping. It was a little… heartwarming?
~~~~
Eventually you end up back at their house. Dinner was a bit awkward as you silently ate. You sat at the end of the table as the two men sat on each side of you.
Ever since you got back, Chan hasn't let you around Changbin much. The younger man could feel the tense passive aggression in the air. It's been a few hours since you got here and you didn't put up too much of a fight. Of course, that didn't mean you didn't put up any fight. It mostly came out in snarky responses and aversion to advances. You didn't wanna be here and it had you thinking about how to escape again.
Chan was once your friend but now he was just crazy and obsessive. He had no problem with pulling you around like a literal doll although he claimed to love you so much.
Oddly enough, you felt better being around Changbin. The younger man did promise to protect you so it made you wonder if he'd stop his friend from doing anything to crazy.
As Chan cooked, Changbin kept quietly apologizing to you and it made you feel a little bad.
"Im sorry... Im sorry... Im sorry..." he kept whispering. You did your best to comfort him as he continued whispering to himself.
"I'll keep you safe... I'll keep you safe... I promise... I promise..." he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. It had you tearing up....
It was hard to deny that the food Chan made was actually pretty good, almost euphoric. Have you ever loved a dish this much? It was a bit odd. It wasn't anything fancy and with it you just had a glass of water. It tasted a little odd but Chan said it was just their tap.
“Y/n?”
“Hm?” You managed to get out before slowly raising your head to look at Chan. It was as if time were moving just a bit slower.
“I’m so glad you’re home…” he said while rubbing your hand. “I missed you…” His voice sounded like it had so much emotion in it.
You only stared at him. His smile was very sweet and… loving. Has he always had a wonderful smile?
Changbin touched your other hand as Chan then softly rubbed your cheek.
It was hard to not subconsciously lean into his hand and you were a bit tired. You gave in and seemed to be… relaxed.
“My doll… are you tired?”
‘Oh wow, it’s almost like he read your mind! How did he know?’ You thought to yourself, starting to feel more and more delirious.
“Y/n…? Are you feeling okay?” Changbin asked with a little concern.
“Yeah Binnie. ‘M just… a bit sleepy…” you said before yawning. It was getting hard to keep your eyes open as Chan continued rubbing your hand.
“Just a bit?” Chan teased. “You seem very sleepy.”
“Hmm… maybe I am…” you replied as he held your chin and slowly nodded your head.
“Well then. Would you like to sleep with me tonight?” Chan asked.
You had a small smile as he made you nod again. It felt like you had no control of your muscles.
“But hyung—”
“I think! It’s only fair, right Binnie?” Chan interrupted in a more passive aggressive tone.
“Right…” the younger man sighed.
Chan took you to his bedroom and helped you change, which you allowed because you were tired. You started wondering why you felt so weak, but Chan's sparatic compliments quickly distracted you.
“You’re as beautiful as ever.” He said with a smile. “I missed you so much.”
This only made you blush as he tucked you in, already dozing off.
All the while, Changbin was getting antsy. He already felt guilty for letting Chan get to you but he also wants you to himself. I mean, he was the one who found you and Chan knew just how much he needed you. Chan knew that he couldn’t live without you! But right now he felt punished. Chan was with you in the bedroom doing who knows what!
It bothered him a lot and he couldn’t stop tossing and turning in bed until finally getting up and going to the kitchen. Originally he came for water but then he saw something else. On the counter, disguised as a bottle of ibuprofen, was the mystery drug.
Changbin already knew that Chan had drugged you earlier. But the man always wondered where his older friend acquired such drugs. It was the type to make you drowsy and suggestible.
If this is what Chan was planning, to drug you everyday, well then that was crazy but it got him thinking. Thinking about something that put a smile on his face…
Chan needs drugs to get you to love him. Whereas, you already love Changbin. No drugs required.
That definitely boosted his ego and perhaps he could one day get you back for himself. He wants to love and care and protect you. Changbin believes you are his soulmate— no he knows that you’re his soulmate!
Changbin took some sips of water, smiling to himself as he thought about the beautiful life the two of you will have. He just had to ‘get rid’ of Chan…
Meanwhile, you found yourself asleep in Chan’s arms. You weren’t sure if he put you there or you snuggled close to him but whatever the case, he held you tight, kissing your cheek and whispering praises in your ear. It went from complimenting your beauty to positive affirmations. All leading up to small whispering that had you make small groans in response.
“You’re never leaving me, right?”
“Mm…” you moaned softly.
“There she is… that’s our sweet doll.”
289 notes · View notes
haveateadude · 7 months ago
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bleak horizons iii.
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summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ opening up it's not easy, isn't it?
warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm mention, and disordered eating (not explicitly mentioned but you can clearly see it's there)
author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ helloooo welcome to part 3!!!!!! i think this might be the last part (if u have an idea on how this can continue feel free to tell me. u can send a request or just leave the idea in the comments). also just saying, this stuff is based on MY issues and experiences with mental health, so this might not be truthful to everyone. my insta is @/starsfinder_ if anyone wants to vent or just talk :))
remember you're not alone if you're going through a shitty moment, trust me!! ik everyone says to ask for help, and even if that's soo fucking true i know some people are not listened (even if that's literally a fucking RIGHT). so, as i said, you can dm me <33 take care of yourselves pleaseee. can't stress enough how much i want y'all to know you're not alone. hi. hello. i care!!!!!!!! and i'm here!!!!!! so please listen to me when i say everything's going to be alright :)) i love youuuuuu
also, sorry for any mistakes. i'm sooo tired rn lmao
pt1 — pt2 — pt3
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I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour
I'm trying my best, don't know what's in store
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The next week, I stepped out of therapy crying. I got into the car, slamming the door.
“Hey,” Ellie says softly, looking at me with her hands resting on the wheel, her gaze full of worry. “You okay?”
“Drive.”
“But—”
“Just drive.”
“Okay.”
Ellie starts driving. I wipe my tears, feeling overwhelmed. My mother had called yesterday and made me feel like shit. I wasn't doing my best at school. Ellie and I hadn't gone out since Christmas. So basically, everything was shit. I've also had urges to relapse, and they're just not going away.
I cry. Ellie drives. This is okay. It's okay. Except that it's not, and I haven't told my therapist anything about myself yet. My mother hasn't spoken to me in weeks, and my father sent a cat video on WhatsApp this morning. And Ellie’s knuckles are turning white from how hard she’s gripping the wheel, which makes my heart ache because I know she cares. It makes me want to tell her everything, but the words are stuck in my throat, and I can't seem to get them out.
We arrive at the apartment a couple of minutes later. Ellie doesn’t immediately open the doors, and I've calmed down enough to answer when she asks, “Baby? Are you feeling okay?”
I nod, looking away. The people that I see walking around look sad.
“I’m fine.”
“It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says. I stay quiet, doubting it. Ellie nudges me with her elbow, looking for an answer. “Hey.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”
Ellie pats me on the thigh before getting out of the car. I get out, too. I don't bother eating dinner that night; I just go straight to bed and fall asleep.
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The next few days felt monotonous. I've fallen back into my sadness, the type that isn't bitter but sweet. It doesn't make me want to relapse. It makes me want to stay in bed more hours than I'd like, takes my appetite away, and leaves me feeling nothing but numbness.
I wake up, go to work, study, attend uni, come home, and sleep. The cycle repeats and repeats, and I'm so, so very tired.
Today, I took the day off. I knew I was too tired to do anything, so I planned to rot in bed. Ellie knocks on the door, but I don't answer. I hear the door creak open and the light from the living room creeping in.
"Hey," Ellie says, her voice coming from behind me. "Mind if I lay next to you?"
"It's fine," I say with a hoarse voice. I feel the bed sink at my side, and then Ellie is behind me, wrapping her arm around my torso and nuzzling her face into my neck, leaving a kiss right there. I feel cozy and comfortable. I don't know if this will last. I hope it does because it's a feeling I've never experienced before—someone comforting me? That has never happened.
"Do you want to talk about what's going on?" she asks. I stay quiet. "I care about you. I'm worried."
I do want to talk about it, but at the same time, I don't.
"I'm fine."
"You always say that… You haven't gotten out of bed since you came from work, and the frozen lasagna you were going to make for yourself last weekend has been in the fridge since then." She stays quiet for a second, her fingertips caressing my arm. "You're not doing fine, baby."
Millions of thoughts go through my head. Thoughts I don't say. I don't want her to leave; I don't want her to see how I feel.
"I'm trying, though." It's easy to say since Ellie isn't looking at my face directly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I blink them away; I blink, blink, and blink again. Fast.
Ellie stays quiet, her breath tickling my neck. She kisses the back of my head again, her hand holding mine. I hold it to my chest. "I know. But you don't have to be alone in this."
That hits me like a truck. I wasn't expecting to be held by her, let alone her saying I don't have to be alone. A tear falls from my eye, landing on the pillow. I sniff, and Ellie holds me tighter, not saying anything. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with her free hand and kisses my temple.
"I'm sorry," I say, in a moment of pathetic weakness. She hugs me even closer.
"Hey, no. Don't apologize. C'mon, turn around."
I let go of her hand, turning around. Her left hand cups my face and she kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and then she kisses the tears that fall on my cheeks. When she pulls away, she gives me a small smile, "You're going to be okay."
She doesn't want you. She's your friend; she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think, she'll leave.
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I wake up on Ellie's chest, it feels good to be comforted, I've found. Her phone is on the nightstand, so I just reach it and look at the time. It's eight o'clock. I've fallen asleep for two hours. I try to make myself more comfortable on her chest, attempting not to wake her, but my movements fail and she stirs.
"Hey," she says, her voice still laced with sleep. "What time is it?"
"It's still night," I say, closing my eyes. "We slept for two hours.'
"Feeling better?" I feel comfortable enough to shake my head. "Do you want to talk about it? I told you, I'm worried. And don't bullshit me with the whole 'I'm fine' shit, yeah?"
I stay quiet as her thumb caresses my back, "Did I tell you why I'm going to therapy?" Ellie shakes her head. "Well—back home I had some… issues. Mental health stuff related. I kept going back to depressive episodes. And one day I just asked for help from my mom, because I—I just couldn't stop self harming."
"Baby," Ellie says, hugging me tighter and kissing the top of my head. "What happened? Did your mother react well?"
"Yeah. Surprisingly. I got help. Got better. Sometimes it comes back, and I still get urges sometimes, but I can control it. It isn't as bad as it was before. But lately, it's just—yeah."
"You don't do that anymore, do you?" She asks, worried.
"No," I shake my head. "Not anymore."
"And what about the urges, do you still get them?" I nod, slowly. Ellie plays with my hair. "And therapy? Is it helping?"
"I haven't told her anything, yet. I—I don't know, I can't talk about it."
"What if I go to the next session? If you're okay with that, of course. If you still don't feel comfortable we can look for another therapist or another way to get you help."
I hide my face in her chest when she says the last word. I don't know why I've been refusing to get help. I don't know why I don't like that word. I sigh as Ellie stops playing with my hair and begins rubbing my back.
"I think—I think I would like it if you go with me."
"Okay. Okay, then. I'll go." The room falls to silence again for a few seconds. I feel ashamed for telling her. "I'm sorry you have to go through this… I wish I could do more."
"You're doing more than enough," I assure her. It's my time to hug her tighter. "You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this."
"Yeah?" She seems surprised. "I'm glad you talked to me. I'm here for you if you need anything—I mean it. You just have to tell me, I will listen… You could've told me sooner."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, don't apologize. I’m just saying, I'm here for you. I've been there for you, always. And… is there something I can do to help?"
"Just be there," I say. "That's enough."
"Mhm, I'll stay."
I think she wants you, a little voice in my head says. I think she loves you, and I don't think she'll ever leave.
Maybe I'll be okay, after all.
140 notes · View notes
kooktrash · 1 year ago
Note
Fighting heart mc has a little accident at home and needs to go to the hospital (maybe for stitches?) and jk calls her and nurse pick it up and says that she’s in hospital 😌 And of course he got panicked and rushed to the hospital and even after he saw that she’s perfectly fine he can’t help but cry because of the fear and all those ugly emotions (and he thought that something big happened to her) 😭😭 And of course he wouldn’t stop gushing over her and be her ‘yes man’
oooof I missed these two idk. jk has always been the more stressed out one so I could def see him completely losing his shit while oc is like “🤷🏽‍♀️Shit happens” he def makes a bigger deal out of it.
FIGHTING HEART
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warnings: mentions of bl**d, oc cuts her leg with glass. jk gets anxiety from it. oc needed stitches 2.4K words.
You never considered yourself a handy man of any sort. You hate getting your hands dirty and you hate doing any sort of hard labor at all—it’ll mess up your manicure, but today you didn’t have much of a choice. You had just been lounging around your apartment all day with Jimin who decided he would come over and keep you company. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, has been stuck training lately because he’s got a big fight coming up and Jin has been really strict on him because of it. Even if he won’t admit it, you know he’s been stressed because if he wins, he’ll win big.
Jungkook has finally begun to really establish himself as a real boxer and right now he’s getting so many calls from just about anyone in the boxing world looking to set a match with him. He’s so close to being the lightweight champion and you know it’s been a lot of pressure on him so all you’ve wanted to do was show him your support and show him he could rely on you.
Maybe that’s why you decided to tackle this issue on your own today.
“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” Jimin said as he watched you stand on your kitchen counter trying to switch out a lightbulb, “If you fall Jungkook is going to kill me.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you turned to him with the huge, heavy lightbulb in your hands, “Stop being so negative, I’m very capable of changing a lightbulb, thank you very much.”
Jimin released a sigh, “I mean… if you say so.”
Jungkook was exhausted, his body ached everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive over to you, pull you into a bath with him and hopefully fall asleep after. Lately it feels like all he’s done is train with Hobi and right now he just wants to stop it all and go see you.
Of course he’s thankful for all the opportunities he’s been given in life but right now he just wants to be selfish and hang out with the love of his life without worrying about the newest brand deal—which right now, Calvin Klein has been blowing up Jin’s phone to sign the new and upcoming boxer as a brand ambassador. He thinks he’ll do it but only if he can get you signed on as well, it’s not like they would say no with the connections you have. Maybe he’ll talk to you about it tonight.
“Alright Kook, you wanna rest up tonight because tomorrow we’re doing it all over again,” Hoseok said to him as they walked toward their parked cars ready to end today’s session, “Are you going to see Y/n?”
“That’s the plan,” Jungkook said, already taking his phone out to call you, “I’m thinking we’ll get dinner and after that probably just lounge around.”
They said their goodbyes and once Jungkook was in the privacy of his car, he called you. Lately, he’s been so busy he almost feels guilty for not being able to see you. You’re so supportive and loving and all he wants to do is spend all his time with you but he’s finally doing something with his life and it’s all because of you so he just continues to push himself to his limits. He wants to be with someone worthy of you, no matter how many times you assure him you’ll love him no matter what.
You chose him over anyone else, even when you saw his poor living conditions with leaking roofs and broken cabinets. You stayed with him when you saw him lose control at an underground fight club. You’ve chosen him and he loves you so much that he misses you anytime he’s away.
When the call went to voicemail he couldn’t help but be confused, you told him you would just be home today so he wondered why you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were sleeping or not around your phone, so he called you again just to be sure.
“Hello?”
Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear, looking down at the screen to make sure he had in fact called you and not whatever guy was currently answering the phone, “Y/n?”
“Jungkook,” Jimin cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, this is Jimin.”
He released a breath in relief, “Oh, where’s Y/n?”
“Um,” Jimin bit his lip nervously as he looked behind him. Jungkook waited for him to speak but the longer he stayed quiet the more worried he got. Why did Jimin answer your phone and why did he seem so nervous?
“Y/n can’t really answer the phone right now,” Jimin said, already imagining your overprotective boyfriend plunging his fist into Jimin’s pretty head, “She had an accident an—“
“What?” Jungkook hit the brakes hard, completely forgetting he was trying to drive out of the parking lot, “What do you mean accident? Where is she?”
“We’re at the hospital right now, they’re giving her stitches—“
“Where?” Jungkook’s voice dropped to a low octave as his blood ran cold. He barely listened to the hospital Jimin told him before he was hanging up and speeding toward you. He ran a couple red lights but he didn’t even care. He felt his anxiety begin to spike up to the point where his chest tightened painfully and it was getting hard for him to breathe.
Getting to the hospital all happened in a blur, he went straight to the E.R section and he knew that the nurse behind the counter thought he looked crazy.
He was drenched in sweat from training and his eyes were red, his hands shaky and his voice cracked when he asked what room you were in.
“She’s just finishing up surgery and she’ll be out soon, I’ll take you to where the friend is waiting,” the nurse said and he anxiously followed after her, biting his lip so hard that it bled. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and he ignored the nurse’s warning not to run as he searched for Jimin who sat outside the room with his head down.
“What happened?” Jungkook asked and there was no denying the panic in his voice. Jimin shot up out of his seat looking a little scared by the way Jungkook glared at him. Jimin bit his lip, “We were in her kitchen and Y/n was trying to change a stupid lightbulb and—“
“Ow!”
Jungkook looked to the room, the blinds were closed so he couldn’t even look in and the door was shut, “Oh my god, did she fall?”
Jimin nodded subtly, “Y/n dropped the bulb and I think it s-scared her and she ended up falling a-and, glass was everywhere a—“
“What the fuck were you doing?!” Jungkook yelled louder than he meant to and others immediately turned to him with worry. Jimin’s eyes widened at the way Jungkook grabbed at him and once Jungkook realized what he was doing, he immediately let him go, “I’m sorry, Jimin. Sorry… b-but, if something happens to Y/n…”
“I know man,” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, “She’s just getting a few stitches and she’ll be out soon. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook sat down with his head in his hands, hiding himself as he shut his eyes trying to get his brain to shut up. He knows that you’ll be fine but he can’t help but imagine the worse. He’s been so busy lately and he told you he would switch the stupid lightbulb for you and just kept forgetting. This is all his fault. All of it.
The thought of you being hurt in even the slightest way made him sick to his stomach. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He’s supposed to keep you safe and be there for you and he hasn’t been and he feels so fucking shitty because all he can picture right now is your fall. How bad was it? How did it happen? Jimin said there was glass everywhere…
How hurt were you?
It felt like years passed before they were finally let into the room. Jimin stood behind with guilt written all over his face as Jungkook went right to your side, immediately holding your face in his hands, “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you said with a smile as you looked down at your leg, “Just a couple stitches, nothing too bad.”
“Six stitches and a large piece of glass in her heel,” the doctor said as he looked down at his paperwork. Jungkook was hovering over you with his forehead pressed against yours, “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” You asked brushing his sticky hair out of his face, “I’m fine.”
“She did great,” the doctor said, finally getting Jungkook’s attention, “We’re going to prescribe something for the pain and finish up some paperwork. We have a pair of crutches Y/n could use but she should be healed in about three weeks. As of right now, I’d say put as little weight on her foot as possible, it was a big fall and she’s definitely bruised up.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Jungkook said and you looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at your boyfriend who lifted your knuckles to his lips and kissed the top of them. You could see his reddened eyes and when he looked up at you it was clear he was crying, this is the second time you’ve seen your strong boyfriend cry and it broke you.
“Jimin,” you looked to your friend, “Can you give us a minute?”
The doctor took that as his cue to go get the paperwork and leave with your friend until it was just you and Jungkook. “Baby,” you called to him once you were alone and he allowed himself to fully break down against your hospital bed, “What’s wrong? Are you mad? I know you told me to wait b-but, I just wan—“
“I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I keep telling you over and over again that I want to be someone you deserve and I just keep disappointing you.”
You sat up suddenly, wincing a little as you shifted your leg and Jungkook immediately looked up with fear, “Jungkook, this isn’t your fault at all. This was an accident, I was being impatient. Even Jimin told me it was a bad idea but I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own, obviously not bu—“
“Baby, you’re so strong and you don’t even know it,” Jungkook said as he sat down on the edge, careful not to take up too much room, “So strong and smart that you can do anything. I just… I should’ve just done it the first time you told me.”
“Don’t blame yourself for this,” You combed his hair back before wiping his tears away with your thumb, “And shouldn’t I be the one crying? I just got six stitches.”
Jungkook sniffled as he leaned forward and pulled you into a tight hug, “I was so scared, baby, so fucking scared that something horrible happened and I just… I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t around.”
Your eyes met his and to help him calm down, and remind him he won’t lose you, you kissed him. Jungkook kissed you back wantonly, hand in your hair and salty tears on his tongue, “I love you so much.”
The wait for the paperwork took forever and Jimin sat in the corner of the room watching you and Jungkook. He had been so exhausted from his training that when he rested his head on your chest, he fell asleep.
“You’ve got a very concerned boyfriend on your hands,” the nurse said once she returned, “I hear he caused a commotion downstairs and out in the hall just worried sick about you.”
“I’m sure he did,” you said in a whisper, brushing a finger against his cheek that had him waking up slowly, eyes hazy as he looked up at you.
“Alright, well just follow the doctor’s orders, once the numbing block wears off you’ll feel some pain because you sprained your ankle. We’ll do a follow up in about a week, how does that sound? Now I need the one she’ll be leaving with to sign these documents.
“Sounds good, we’ll be here,” Jungkook had your hand in his as he signed the paper with his free hand, there were crutches in her hands and she was motioning for you to try and sit up. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm under your back and the other one under your knees before he was lifting you up.
“No need for crutches?” The nurse asked, watching Jungkook pick you up with ease. Jimin took them from her with a thank you, “I guess not.”
“Babe, I can walk,” you tried telling him as he cradled you in his arms, “I’m heavy.”
“Shh, I’ve made guys bigger than you tap out with one punch,” Jungkook said as he carried you to the elevator with Jimin hot on your trails, “I think I’m capable of carrying my injured girlfriend to the car.”
When you got to the hotel you lived at, Jungkook had yet to let your feet touch the car even once. He helped you to bed using a pillow to rest your leg and making sure you were comfortable as he ran around looking for things you might need.
You giggled, “Kook, I’m not paralyzed, I can walk, just give me some time.”
“I know you’re strong babe but I really don’t want you over exerting yourself,” he said, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go do it.”
“I still need the lightbulb fixed.”
“On it.”
Jungkook ran out to the kitchen, nearly crying again once he saw the mess on your perfectly polished marble floors. Once again he was reminded that you had probably been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t around. There was blood mixed with thin glass all over the floor and he went to your supply closet to get the cleaning supplies. If Jimin wasn’t around, what would have happened? Would you have forced yourself to stand and call an ambulance? Would you have called him or would you think he was too busy to answer?
The next morning Jungkook did not leave your side one bit. He called Hobi and told him he wouldn’t make it to training and spent his day doing everything he could for you.
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rwylm-things · 6 months ago
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Author’s note : I’m lowkey geeking that I just wrote that !! Ok ok sorry I’m dramatic and cringe. Basically I would just like to preface a few things. This fic is very unfinished, I wrote it a while ago and don’t know if I’ll ever finish. I’ve always wanted to dip my toe into creative writing but always been to scared of…..sucking? This definitely sucks though.
Despite that I read someone say on here that your first writing is going to be bad. So here it is; my god awful Jason fic. What better way to start my journey of writing than fan fiction (please be nice I’m sensitive)
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BLOW-POPS
Jason Todd x reader
Warnings : suggestive language
Word Count : 763
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Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Finally,
You immediately braced your legs for the jump out of your seat. The ancient wheels on the chair create an uncomfortable squeak. You don’t pause to cringe at the awful sound, instead waving bye to your co-workers and making your way out the door. It had been a long day. Slow, but long. You had been laser focused on the minuscule arm that counted the final hour of the shift. As your legs hurriedly moved towards the car you could feel the tiredness seep through your bones. This particular shift had started in the earliest hours of the morning, as you start the engine your eyes drift up to the colors in the sky meshing together to create an orange hue. You let a hefty sigh leave your lips. The more thought put into it, the more excitement your mind created surrounding the prospect of taking a hot shower, watching some trash tv, and falling asleep on the couch. Smiling contently to yourself, you rush home.
Well. That was the plan. It really was.
You just may have forgotten to calculate for one important factor.
Red Hood.
Red Hood, who you may or may not have started a situationship with after he had saved your life last year. Your vehicle had been in the shop and you narrowly missed the bus for that night. Despite the fact that you’d been living in Gotham for up to a year at that point, you still took your chance and walked home from work. However, luck had never really been on your side. This was an event he would continuously criticize over the next year.
‘no concept of personal security’
‘no awareness about what's going on around you’
‘if I hadn’t been there…’
‘blah blah blah blah blah’
On one hand, you found it annoying that he really believed you couldn't take care of yourself. On the other hand, the delusional part, you relished in the thought of him giving a shit about what happens to you. To be frank, maybe situationship was the wrong word. Although you two were definitely not in a relationship. If you ever did come up with some miraculous courage, you would question the status between the two of you.
You seriously doubted that he would ever commit to a relationship. While he never specifically stated it, you knew. Despite the moments of softness he would spare, ones you would deny sent a fuzzy warmth into your head. Still, it was clear what he wanted from you.
You couldn't say friends with benefits either, that would insinuate that you two were friends. That would insinuate that you know more about him other than, he likes to be on top and has daddy issues.
Anyway, not the point.
Red Hood.
Red Hood, who was casually leaning against the marble countertops when you twisted the doorknob and stepped in. His helmet hung from his fingertips, leaving his face covered in only a black domino mask.
Red Hood.
Red Hood, who currently had you pressed deeply into the couch, leaving no room between your bodies. His full lips pressed harshly against your own, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. Once you slightly parted your lips, his tongue began dancing with yours, fighting for dominance.
He always won.
“You taste like cherry.”
This was the first he spoke since you had entered the apartment.
“I-” you paused as he began suckling on your neck,
“I ate a blow for lunch. Well actually I ate like six. This nice old lady I helped today gave me a jumbo bag. Don’t ask me why she just carried that around because I don’t know and I wasn’t about to ask. I know that I'm not supposed to be taking candy from strangers but like she was really nice and I was starving. Now that I think about it, I probably ate like ten.”
You rambled quickly, sounding almost breathless from his lips on your neck. You swear you felt him smile against your skin.
Meeting with him always gave you a rush of adrenaline. Meeting with him always created a very specific feeling you swore you could feel run through your veins. Knowing the hands that were gently caressing your upper torso were the same that ruthlessly pummeled the worst of Gotham. Maybe you were messed up, but hey, maybe that's what drew you two together.
That being said, you were tired.
As he moved to kiss further into the crook of your neck, you rested your eyes for a split second.
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atleastpleasetelephone · 24 days ago
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Little Darling
Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept
It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?
Need to catch up? Go here.
Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.
Word count: 3.2K
TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.
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Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.
Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head. 
“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled. 
She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”
He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”
She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face. 
“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”
She groans again. “I’ll try.”
She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing. 
Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn
Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again. 
“That’s cute.”
“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”
She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”
Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.
“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”
He grumbles again. 
“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”
“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs. 
She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”
His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.
My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal
She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”
“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”
She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either. 
He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”
“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”
He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”
“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”
“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”
Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed. 
He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”
***
When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside. 
“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness. 
Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again. 
“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair. 
“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”
Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”
“Please.”
He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray. 
“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”
Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”
Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles. 
“What?”
She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying. 
“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 
“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”
She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”
He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”
Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”
She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again. 
“I’m no good at this.” 
She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?” 
When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad. 
“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him. 
“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”
“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”
She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”
He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”
Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes. 
“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”
Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants. 
“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.” 
“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”
His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people. 
“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos. 
“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”
Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”
“Oh. I suppose so.”
“It’s cute though. How much you try.”
He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”
“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his. 
“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”
Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”
“What are ya callin’ me now?”
She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”
“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”
“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”
***
Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch. 
“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her. 
“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest. 
“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”
“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”
“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”
She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on. 
“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”
“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”
Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”
Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”
He puffs up with pride. “I am?”
“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”
He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”
Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own. 
***
After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him. 
Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.
“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her. 
“Hmmm? Why?” 
He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide. 
“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.  
“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”
Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”
“Honey, you’re still sick.”
She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”
She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult. 
“W-watch?”
“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”
“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”
“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”
She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”
“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”
He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”
She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?” 
Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.
“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls. 
He groans. “Yes please.”
She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps. 
“Honey!”
She giggles. “No?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”
She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”
He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”
Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement. 
“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”
Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”
She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now. 
“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe. 
“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants. 
“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”
“Mmmm.”
They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up. 
“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom. 
He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”
***
Part 10
Taglist:
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cowboydk · 6 months ago
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SILVER LININGS, GOLD AND SHINING
PART ONE.
Summary: Complicated was the first word that came to mind regarding your relationship with one Jeong Yunho. He was your very best friend, your other half, the person you went to with everything. He also was someone you slept with fairly regularly. If anyone asked, the pair of you just said you were the very best of friends. That’s all it was, right? What happens when the lines start to blur even more than they already are? Or when others coming into the mix throws everything you thought you knew out the window? Do you let things fall apart or fight for a new normal?
Pairing: Non-idol!Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader
Warnings:  Strong/Mature language, sexual content (references to implied smut, sexual comments, no actual smut in this part). Minors DNI! 
Word Count: 2.4k
Genre: Fluff, angst, best friends to best friends with benefits?, idiots to lovers!!
A/N: Hello!! The first official part, yippee! I debated waiting to post it, but I was too eager and decided to drop it already. I hope you all enjoy! Shoutout to my lovely bestie Em for proofreading and helping me with this! Thank you for being my #1 fan despite not even going here! LMAO (divider credit!)
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Light bleeding through the curtains was the thing that awoke you out of your comfortable slumber. Slowly, your eyes blinked open and you groaned into the pillow. Too early. Way too early—at least that’s what it felt like. 
“Shh,” came a voice from behind you, the hand that had been slung over your waist coming to playfully cover your face.
“Yunho!” You yelped, swatting him away halfheartedly at best. “You’re so annoying.”
“Says the one groaning like their life is ending at waking up before noon.”
“You kept me awake until two AM to get to a new level in Fortnite. I’m not even good at it. You always carry me, Mister Level eighty-three,” you grumbled into the soft pillow. 
You could feel the deep rumble against your back with how Yunho chuckled. His chin tucked over the top of your head as his hand soothingly rubbed over your side. 
“You have fun though! You’re definitely getting better—except for the time someone kidnapped you in a car.”
“You told me to stay in the car!”
“How was I supposed to know when I went to search the bunker that someone would hop in the car, drive you outside of the storm circle, then shoot you and leave you to die?!” Yunho shot back. “You should’ve just got out of the car. Lowkey a skill issue, sunshine.”
“I couldn’t! Ugh, you’re so mean—” You jabbed your elbow back into Yunho’s gut—soft enough that it wouldn’t actually hurt him. Not too much, anyway.
Yunho let out a grunt in response, squeezing and tickling your side in retaliation. You squealed loudly and squirmed, scrambling to throw off the comforter to all but run into the ensuite inside his bedroom. You slammed shut the door and locked it before Yunho could make it inside. A pleased smile pulled at your lips as you heard Yunho jiggle the doorknob with no avail. 
“Oh, c’mon. This is cheating, sunshine,” Yunho grumbled through the door. “I’m sorry I said your Fortnite disaster was a skill issue! I’ll wash your back in apology?”
“Oh, will you now? After you do backshots on it? Sure. Not getting me this time, puppy!” 
You heard Yunho sputter outside the door, bursting into a fit of laughter. The sound made you smile—not that you’d admit that. He’d never let you live it down. 
“That was two days ago! Let it go! I cleaned you up, didn’t I?” 
You merely hummed in response, turning on the shower to answer him instead. A very loud, audible groan reverberated through the door and you couldn’t help your giggle. 
It felt like you had known Yunho all your life—in reality it had only been the last several years. You met freshman year of university. He sat next to you in your history lecture, being the first to offer you a pencil when yours ran out of lead causing you to curse endlessly under your breath. He had a shy smile playing on his lips as he extended the pencil out without a word—he told you much, much later that it was his only pencil. That was something you ended up teasing him for endlessly. It was beyond endearing. He had always reminded you of a big puppy, hence the teasing nickname that just stuck. Your tendency to brighten his day on the worst of them—his words, not yours—was where your own nickname of sunshine came from. It was history from here. 
The pair of you ended up hosting your own mini study group, party of two. From there it blossomed into coffee or boba tea runs. He told you all about his love of Valorant and Fortnite. You admitted to your love of reading, whether it was a good book or even a manga series. You often found yourself staying at his off campus home that he shared with three roommates: Mingi, Wooyoung, and San. You were practically a fourth roommate with the frequency you showed up at their home. Wooyoung joked once that you might as well pay rent if you were going to be there that much. You responded by throwing your cow slipper at his head. (They were the pair Yunho got you to wear around their house, naturally.) 
Yunho was your very best friend, you were positive you wouldn’t have gotten through college without him. Your roommate and other best friend, Eunjin, always bickered with Yunho on when they’d get to spend time with you. It endlessly amused you to see the pair argue that they wanted to spend time with you for the evening, that the other had already seen you that week. Even being in the ‘real world’ now you were inseparable with the man in question. You made it a point to see him more than once a week even as you were in the midst of trying to work toward getting your masters degree. Yunho himself had what you two had deemed a ‘big boy job’ in working for the cybersecurity department of a big company in the city. He was regularly one of the top performers in his department and you always teased that he had the big boy bucks to treat you two to your ‘friend dates’—not that you’d ever let him pay. The pair of you fought over that often, practically every time you went out.
When it came to the more complicated part of your relationship it hadn’t ever really been planned. You knew Yunho was attractive, of course you did. He had his goofy charm, kind nature, and bright smile on top of his already stellar looks. Girls regularly stole looks in his direction, flustered smiles and papers slid his way when you two went out. Though, you were convinced he was cursed when it came to first dates. It felt like anytime he ended up going out on a date, whether it was one he set up himself or a blind date that Hongjoong or Mingi set up for him, he never went past that. He always had some sort of excuse that either he didn’t click with the girl or it was awkward, that he didn’t see it going anywhere. You were skeptical, but let it go until you finally just asked one day.
“When’s the last time you had sex, huh?” Your fingers were buried in Yunho’s hair as he sat between your legs playing his PS5, on the floor while you remained seated on his couch. 
“Shit, Y/N—” Yunho swore under his breath, his attempt at building in his Minecraft world with Seonghwa and Wooyoung halted as he jolted back to look up at you with wide eyes.
“Not the government name,” you whined out, your fingers sliding free of the strands of his brown hair. “I’m just asking! Every date you go on seems to either end in disaster or you don’t like the girl. I just figured you’d be, you know… pent up, I guess.”
“This just seems like a weird topic for us to talk about. I don’t—” A blush bloomed on the man’s pale features, traveling up to the tips of his ears. 
“We’re best friends! Who else would you talk about this stuff with—”
“Mingi—”
“—and don’t say Mingi!” 
You rolled your eyes and reached down to tug harshly at Yunho’s hair. He yelped and pinched your calf in retaliation. You let out an equally as loud and high pitched yelp.
“I—” Yunho sighed, head knocking back lightly into your knee, “I don’t know. It’s been awhile, okay?”
You made a face at that, smoothing your fingers over his hair in a much more soothing motion than your prior movements. “I just feel bad. You deserve to feel good and stuff. You’re the best person I know.”
Yunho snorted softly, “thanks, sunshine. I’m sure I’ll get laid soon enough, if you’re really that concerned then you could always help me out.” He wiggled his eyebrows before bursting into a fit of laughter.
You giggled alongside Yunho at his joke, but a lightbulb seemed to go off in your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if that wouldn’t be the worst idea? Yunho was the person you trusted the most alongside Eunjin, after all. Besides, you were going through your own drought. You weren’t the biggest fan of physical touch outside those you trusted. This would solve that. It’s not like it had to change anything. You could have fun and still remain the best of friends. 
“Well…” You began, almost hesitantly. 
Yunho’s dark eyes snapped to your face almost instantly. He blinked owlishly a few times as if he couldn’t believe you were actually considering what he was joking about. 
“It doesn’t have to change anything!” You were quick to start out with, seeing the disbelief on your best friend’s face. “You’re my best friend. There’s no one I trust more than you—maybe Eunjin, but we’re not talking about her right now, anyway! You two are the same level even, not that I trust her more—”
“Y/N…” Yunho began in a warning tone.
“I’m just saying!” You interrupted, “you and I both benefit  from this. I get pent up, too, you know. If you don’t want to then we don’t have to. I just… I don’t know. I trust you, like I said. You’re my very best friend, Yuyu. I don’t want things to be weird, so we can just forget this ever happened if you think I’m being utterly insane right now.”
Yunho looked up at you, seemingly at a loss of words. His pink lips pressed together in a thin line as the silence stretched and grew between you. You felt like you were about to claw out of your skin with how long it went on before Yunho finally spoke.
“Okay, yeah—it doesn’t have to change anything. I already like making you happy, as a friend! So… this would just add onto that. I make you feel good, you make me feel good. It’ll be—”
“—good?” You grinned.
Yunho rolled his eyes and breathed out a soft laugh, the tension finally snapping into the familiar comfort you two already knew and thrived in. 
“Yes, that.”
You leaned down and hugged Yunho around his neck loosely from behind. You dropped your chin on the top of his head, humming happily to yourself. Yunho’s large hand came up to squeeze one of your forearms gently, patting it gently after he did so. 
“So—should we like… kiss or what?”
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, letting go to fall back against the couch in your fit of laughter. Yunho turned between your legs to scramble up to his feet. 
“What? Why are you laughing at that?!” He was now laughing at himself in turn. 
“‘Should we like kiss, or what?’ You’re such a dork!” A snort escaped you as you continued laughing, holding a hand over your mouth to try to hide the fact that you just did so.
Yunho leaned down, his hands planting on the back of the couch, effectively caging you in between his arms. He huffed out a soft laugh, cocking an eyebrow as he stared down at you. Your laughter tapered off to a soft giggle instead, biting down on your bottom lip to contain it. The tension was different now. It felt charged with the unsaid promise of where things could lead to. You felt like you had to hold your breath to not break the moment. 
Looking down at your lips then back at your eyes, Yunho cocked an eyebrow in a silent request. You managed a tiny nod in response, eyes fluttering shut as he started to move forward. The few seconds between your confirmation felt like they lasted an eternity. Finally, you felt a pair of soft lips press firmly to your own. It immediately sent your head spinning in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Your hands slid up Yunho’s biceps, arms wrapping loosely around his neck to press further into the kiss. His lips moved against your own as you two languidly kissed. There was a heat beneath it, but no rush. It was… nice, really nice. 
Your lips parted the moment you felt Yunho’s tongue swipe against your bottom one. A soft groan escaped you with the new feeling, your tongues sliding messily against one another. One hand buried in the locks of the man’s hair, tugging lightly. He groaned instantly, teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling before he broke the kiss off. You were both panting softly in an attempt to catch your breath. 
“Well,” Yunho began roughly, licking his lips, “it’s either I eat you out here or up in my bed. Dealer’s choice.”
You snorted loudly, hand loosening its grip from Yunho’s hair to instead slap over your mouth to try to muffle the laughter. Yunho grinned brightly, immediately moving to unhinge your hand from over your mouth.  
“You’re so cute when you snort, don’t hide.”
“Oh, whatever!” You huffed, pushing playfully at Yunho to make him stand up straight. “I can’t believe you just said ‘dealer’s choice’ to where I want you to eat me out. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.”
“What? I’m being a gentleman! I should warn you though that San and Wooyoung will probably be coming back from the gym within the hour.”
“Bedroom it is!” You said quickly, standing and grabbing Yunho’s hand to drag him up the stairs. 
The rest, as most would say, is history. Well, Wooyoung would probably say it was the start of your descent into absolute idiocy, but you digressed. He locked himself out of the house more than once so you thought it was the other way around. The sleepovers you had with Yunho that were just casual and more often than not with you two being tangled on the couch ended up with you two just sleeping in his bed instead. Showers were shared and you were way more comfortable with him than you were prior—if that was even possible. 
You two were still the very best of friends and you were beyond comfortable with the dynamic you had settled into months later. (Teasing comments from your friends aside—Wooyoung especially.) You knew that after your shower you and Yunho would have a late breakfast before he inevitably convinced you to either try Valorant or play Fortnite with him. This had been your new norm for awhile now and you wouldn’t change it for anything. 
(Right? Right!)
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