#everything else i could think of was angst

[evilmenenjoyer]

Gratitude

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader

SEQUEL to City of Love. Probably not a good fic to read as a stand-alone; read City of Love first for context.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dubious consent, rough sex after a fight, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, bruising, marking, pain play/sadomasochism, mirror sex, manhandling, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), lots of angst.

Tags: @apookalypse @thecutiepieishere / I do not have an official taglist yet, but I'd be willing to make one if people were interested. If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, or in any additions to this story, let me know somehow!

–––

It's three days later when you see him again, just when you were convinced he left Paris for good.

You knew it would take a lot longer for the reminders of him to leave your mind as well as your body. He's in the marks his hands left on your hips, in the scrapes and faint bruises along your back from when he tossed and squeezed you against the brick wall, in the ghost of his lips on your skin. You can still feel them every time you close your eyes, hear his voice whisper your name against your neck as he came.

It shouldn't surprise you, after everything, to have him knock on your door right as you’re getting ready to have a night out. It still nearly takes your breath away to see him, looking as impeccable as usual in his dark gray suit, smiling as if his mere presence doesn't rock your world upside down a third time.

“What part of ‘don’t ever contact me again’ did you not understand?” you ask, though right away you can tell you don't sound nearly as firm and assertive as you’d like. You wonder if he can tell you hoped, against every rational thought in your brain, that he would come back.

Judging by his smile, you’d bet he can.

“I couldn't help myself,” he responds, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. “Can I come in?”

That part of you that still clings to rationality, that can tell a good idea apart from a horrible one, lights up like a loud siren in your brain. There's nothing good that could possibly come out of this. Hasn't he toyed with you enough already? With his weird twisted games, tracking you down all the way to a foreign country, sending you off to those horrific games?

Still, you find yourself stepping aside, leaving a gap for him to come through. You’ve never been good at controlling your impulses, after all.

The apartment you’ve been renting for the time being stands in the heart of Paris. It looks exactly what you pictured a typical, glamorous Parisian apartment to look like – high walls, hardwood floors, large arched windows with a stunning view of the city and the Eiffel Tower. It's furnished with all the essentials, and nothing more. You didn't see the need to bring in new furniture or decorations when you didn't even know for how long you’d be staying in the city. At this point, you’re already considering moving on to somewhere else.

“Make yourself at home,” you say. “But I’m going out soon.”

“I see that.” His eyes run over you as he sits at the arm of the couch, shamelessly lingering on the black dress that hugs all your curves at the right spots. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You turn your back to him, looking for the earrings you had put down somewhere when you heard the knock on the door. You feel his body heat approach you from behind, his fingertips brushing against a red spot on your shoulder blade that the spaghetti straps of the dress fail to cover.

“Did I do this to you?”

His voice doesn't sound remorseful or apologetic at all. If only, there's a hint of pride to his tone, a small smile at the corner of his lip that you can tell is there without even looking at him. It should upset you, thinking of how roughly he pushed you against that wall, but it has goosebumps blooming all over your skin around the spot he touches.

“Who else would it be?” Your voice shakes ever so slightly against your will, and you clear your throat to get rid of it.

You expect him to pull back, but instead he inches even closer. He has to lean down to mold his chest to your back, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck when he speaks. “I can make it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” You turn your head just enough to chase after his lips. Screw the night out. He lets you capture them, indulging you in only a quick kiss before pulling away.

“I’m serious. I have something for you.”

“Oh.” You frown at the loss of contact, turning to face him. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Your frown deepens, and he raises his eyebrows at you. “Don't you trust me yet?” he asks.

No. Absolutely not. Still, what's the worst that can happen? What would he do while you have your eyes closed that he can't do right now; that he couldn't have done three nights ago at that bar, when you gave yourself to him so willingly?

You close your eyes, with a small sigh as if letting him know it's a nuisance. There's no real heat to it, and you both know it.

The Salesman’s hands find their way to your arms, guiding you further into the apartment. You follow his lead slowly, careful not to bump into any furniture or clutter you left around the place while picking an outfit and getting ready.

“You didn't have to give me a gift,” you say, still confused about what this is about. He stops walking the two of you, leaving you in an unknown part of the apartment. Your heart beats slightly faster than normal; distrustful, but excited. No man has ever bought you a gift before. Gifts are for girlfriends, for women they're trying to impress. Somehow, in all your years on this Earth, you’d missed out on being that woman to anyone.

“I was feeling romantic,” he explains. You feel something cold land over the exposed skin of your neck and chest, and he fiddles with a clasp at the nape of your neck. “Blame it on Paris. You can open your eyes.”

You do so, finding yourself standing in your bedroom, right in front of the large mirror resting against the wall. The necklace stands out against your skin – thin white gold chain and gemstones shining so bright you can immediately tell they're real, a ruby and a sapphire encrusted by tiny crystals. The color choice is an odd one for a necklace, prompting you to take a closer look. That's when any hints of a smile vanish from your face.

The gemstones are placed beside each other, the shapes and markings in them identical to those of the ddakji tiles you and the Salesman had played together in the subway station.

“I had it custom-made for you,” he says. Standing behind you, his reflection on the mirror takes up almost the entire background, but you don't pay him any mind. Your eyes are all but glued to the red and deep blue stones hanging from your neck, hoping against hope that you had seen it all wrong, that this was just a figment of your imagination and the real necklace will reveal itself if you just look hard enough.

It never does.

Reality hits you then. This isn’t some fun new fling, or the beginning of a Paris romance. This is the man who lured you into a horribly traumatic experience when you were at your most vulnerable, who came all the way from Seoul just to rub in your face that you didn't deserve to make it out of there alive. And now here he is. Prying his way into your apartment, your body, your mind. And you just let him.

Horror floods you, nearly pushing you to your knees right here. You touch the pendant with shaky fingers, and it takes everything in you not to grab the chain and yank it off your neck. Finally, your eyes meet the Salesman’s in the mirror.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He blinks innocently. “You don't like it?”

“Why would you do this?” you ask, unsure of whether you want to burst into tears or slap him in the face.

His fingers join yours where they rest on the necklace, only grazing your skin on their way to touching the pendant. “I thought you'd like a reminder.”

That makes you spring into action, pulling away from him and pushing his hand away with a ferocity you didn't know you still had, not since the Squid Games.

“A reminder? What makes you think I want to remember that shit?” You raise your voice; something to make up for how small you feel, by the way you need to tilt your head to look him in the eye. “If I could erase that night from my memory for the rest of my life, I would.”

“I find that hard to believe. Would you erase our night together at the bar as well?” His eyes leave yours only to look back to the mirror behind you. “Look at you. Wearing those bruises so proudly.”

For a moment all you can do is stare at him, unable to believe the sheer audacity he has to stand in your house and say these things. The worst of it all is you can’t fully deny it – you picked the dress deliberately knowing it left the upper part of your back exposed, happy to catch glimpses of the bruises he left you with if you happened to stumble upon a mirror or reflective surface throughout the night.

“I would,” you insist. “What the fuck makes you think I’d want to remember the night that ruined my life?”

A laugh comes out of him; a short, but cruel sound. “I ruined your life, is that what you're saying?”

You scoff. “Don't act like you don't know you did.”

He steps even closer to you. You refuse to step back, even when it feels like his chest is about to bump into your forehead. “Your life,” he says, “was already shit way before I came around. Debt, an awful job, an even worse home, no future prospects, no friends. What exactly was there about your life that was good enough to be ruined?”

Rage consumes you to hear him talk like that about your old life. Things were bad, yes, but there was a positivity about you that's been lost ever since you stepped foot in those games. You could barely make ends meet, and your shifts were long and exhausting, but you had hopes of going to school, of turning your life around. Your home was a tiny, shitty house in an even shittier neighborhood, but you still took the effort to decorate it and try to make it feel more like a home. Where did that go? Now, you have all the money you could ever wish for, and all you do is spend it on clothes and expensive trips you don't even have the motivation to enjoy, your only goal being getting far away from Seoul.

“At least I felt like a fucking person! Do you even know what that’s like? Feeling human?” you all but yell, grateful for the language barrier in case any neighbors happen to be listening. “I’d never killed anyone. I’d never wanted to kill anyone! I didn't have nightmares, and I didn't wake up every day wondering if I deserve to be alive after everything I did to survive!”

“You had nothing,” he reminds you, his voice cold as the winter outside. “Not even your dignity. Or did you forget how we met? How you asked me to play ddakji with you, willing to get hit in the face repeatedly not for money, but just to have my attention?”

You hold back a sob, shaking your head furiously, but it's of no use. The words sting hard enough to bring tears to your eyes; it stings even more to know they're true. 

“Get out of my apartment,” you demand. You wish you'd never let him in. You wish you'd never met him at all.

“Things are different now,” he says, ignoring your order completely. “You’re rich, and you’ve matured. You’ll never struggle again in your life, if you're smart.”

“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Finally at your breaking point, you push him, shoving at his chest as hard as you have the strength to. He barely budges. It's only then that you notice how cornered he’s got you, your back about to bump into the mirror.

He brings his hand towards your face, cupping your chin and forcing you to look higher up at him. You thrash and claw at his wrist, trying to push it away from you, but he only tightens his grip until it's almost painful. There’s a darkness in his eyes that’s unlike any expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“I made you stronger. You're a millionaire now because of me,” he says. “How about a little gratitude?”

Even from your position, you still manage an incredulous scoff at him. “Gratitude?”

“Yes.” A grin stretches the corner of his lips, not a trace of warmth of friendliness behind it. “You should be thankful I pulled you out of your misery.”

He moves faster than you’re ready to, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you down. You brace yourself for the impact of your head hitting the floor, gasping in surprise when your back bounces over the soft mattress instead. He hovers above you, using his heavier body to pin yours down before you even have the chance to start struggling against his grip.

“Get off me!”

“Calm down.” He holds both your wrists together with one hand, while the other manages to somehow pull your panties off your body, using your kicking legs as leverage. Your eyes widen in shock. “I’m just giving you another reminder.”

“W-what?” Your voice wavers with fear. All that fury is slowly but surely being replaced with it, or with a mixture of both feelings that leaves you heaving for breath.

He doesn't have to pull your dress up – your own struggle does it by itself, leaving the fabric rumpled up at your hips and your bottom exposed. You stop kicking him in an attempt to cover yourself, and he takes advantage of that fraction of a second to stick his knee on the spot on the mattress between your legs, stopping you from shutting them. You gasp, the heavy pressure on your core cutting off all your thoughts for a moment. You can think of nothing to do other than to yell for help.

As if reading your thoughts, his free hand covers your mouth.

You voice your displeasure through a muffled grunt. You keep on struggling, trying to kick him off you, but each movement unintentionally rubs your bare clit over his thigh that pins you down. He applies even more pressure and you cry out, mortified to feel heat pooling between your legs.

“Christ, you're wet. I can feel it.”

You can feel it too, the fabric of his pants damp and hot where it connects with you. You're torn on whether to keep fighting and essentially humping his leg or giving up, if only to have a few instants of relief.

“If you scream, I’ll slit your throat,” he warns in a hoarse whisper. “Do you understand?”

Out of options, you nod.

He releases your mouth, then your wrists. It occurs to you to scream anyway, but you force yourself to remember who you're dealing with. He wouldn’t give you empty threats. Anyone involved in bringing people into those games has no qualms about slitting your throat open and leaving you to bleed out on your silk sheets.

The Salesman makes his way down your body, now holding onto your legs with his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you manage to ask, the answer rather obvious but it had all happened so fast, leaving you dazed and confused.

“Giving you yet another reason to be thankful to me.”

The sudden, damp feel of his tongue on your entrance overcomes your senses, and you wouldn't be able to hold back a shout if you tried.

Fortunately, he forgives you for it. You squirm under the sensations, but he holds your hips down against the mattress in a firm grip, immobilizing them completely and prying you open all at once. You hoist yourself up over your elbows only to be met with your own reflection on the mirror across the room, your hair a mess already and your face contorted in fear and pleasure and indignation all at once. You can’t bear to watch yourself like this, mortification entrenched into every muscle of your body that reacts to his touch as he continues to penetrate you with his tongue. You fall back towards the mattress with a broken moan.

“God– Y-you can’t–” Whatever you were about to say dies out in your throat as his lips rise to your clit, enveloping you so expertly in the wet heat of his mouth. You clench your whole body, eyelids all the way down to your toes, and for a moment you’re grateful for the hands that hold your legs open just so you don’t have to face the shame of spreading them wider.

Your hands, perfectly capable of putting up a fight once they’d been released, twist into the sheets beneath you, holding on like your life depends on it. You curse yourself for not trying harder to push him off, for not really wanting to; for always being so unwilling to say no to him. Moans leave your lips like they’re being ripped out of you, growing in volume like you just can’t help it. It makes you wish one of the pillows were within reach so you could bury it against your face and muffle them, or simply to hide yourself from how incredibly good it feels to be at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long at all. Say whatever you want about the Salesman, but this is a man who knows what he’s doing with his tongue. In only a few minutes he reduces you to whimpers and pleading, your orgasm hitting you like a wave crashing full-force over the shore. Your back arches off the bed, mouth open in a long moan, and he continues to dine on you like a starving man until the moment you fall backwards, spent.

When you come back to yourself, you’re covering your face with your hands as he presses kisses to the line of your inner thigh. You feel him make his way up your body, feel his hands on your wrists, gently moving them out of the way and exposing your face, the deep flush that has colored your cheeks.

Looking into his eyes, you’re overcome with a rush of emotions you’re not sure how to name. How can a person make you feel so many things at once? How can you still want him – ardently, desperately, profoundly want him – after everything? How can he be so addictive, leaving you already hooked from the scraps of attention he’s given you? You tilt your head just a tiny bit towards him, a silent invitation, and he leans in the rest of the way to take your lips in his.

He kisses you deeply, hungrily, holding you through the shudders that run through your body from the aftershocks of your orgasm until they subside. Kisses you like you’re more than just a hookup, tempting you to believe there must be something about you that’s special. Kisses you for long enough to get you drunk in it, like he’s happy to do nothing but this for the rest of his life.

The next time he pulls back, he removes his suit jacket and tie. You somehow manage to help him unbutton his white shirt, motivated by the promise of feeling his bare skin on yours. You nearly forget his pants are still on, letting him work on that as you press kisses to down his neck. Of course his body is as perfect as his face. He makes an approving sound that you can feel on his throat, and you follow the vibrations of his vocal chords until his pulse point, pleased to find his heartbeats as fast as yours. You can’t resist taking the skin there between your teeth.

He growls, hands tightening on your hips and flipping you on the bed so you’re facing the other side, your back to him. You hold onto the bed frame to steady yourself, body half-bent forward.

You expect him to thrust into you without warning, just as he had the last time. Before that, he brings a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards, your sight landing squarely on your joined reflection on the mirror.

“Keep your eyes right there.” Now he enters you, and you watch your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion. “Watch yourself get fucked on my cock.”

The sheer filth in his voice prompts you to obey, to look. Your knuckles turn white on the bedframe and your body rocks forward with each of his thrusts; slow at first, but steadily gaining power and speed. He reaches down to rub your clit in circles, and it makes your body jerk to feel it and see it at the same time, to watch your reactions in real time. The sight of the necklace still hanging from your neck prompts you to look away, a confirmation of what’s actually happening to you that you’re not prepared to stare in the face.

His hand leaves your clit to wrap itself into your hair, yanking it back. Your body arches to follow it, your reflection on the glass confronting you once again.

“I said look,” he says into your ear. “Don’t you wanna see what a pretty mess you are for me?”

You shake your head, although his death grip on your hair makes it difficult to move. That’s precisely the issue: seeing the mess that he made you into, seeing yourself so overwhelmed and dirty and ashamed, the sounds leaving you suggesting nothing other than aching, raw need. It’s too much. It doesn’t stop you from pushing your hips back to meet his, trying to match his rhythm. 

He angles his thrusts to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Oh God,” you croak, feeling the heaviness of tears behind your eyes and another orgasm fast approaching.

Just when you’re close, impossibly close to your release, he stops. You watch him on the mirror, panting just for a moment before he pulls out of you and releases your hair. You’re about to protest, or maybe plead for mercy, but he pushes you to lay on your back on the bed again, back inside of you before you can even think of a sentence.

“How about that thank you now?” He pounds into you, somehow even deeper from this position.  “Say it.”

“Shut up,” you say instead. The pause, brief as it was, only served to make you more desperate to come, and the last thing you need right now is to hear this. “Please just shut up.”

The necklace gleams over your chest, catching his attention. The Salesman runs a thumb over the sapphire, as if contemplating something, before he presses down on the pendant hard, digging it into your skin.

You gasp, throwing your head back. He’s moving fast enough that the bed rocks underneath you, the headboard slamming into the wall, his fingers still on the necklace like he wants to imprint it into your chest. It fucking hurts, the sharp metal edges unrelenting, digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. It makes your body sing, awakes the deeply-hidden, fucked up parts of you that crave this kind of pain.

“Every time you wake up,” the Salesman says, slightly out of breath himself, but much more composed than you, “and you look out of the window and see Paris, or anywhere that’s not the gutter in Seoul, you thank me for saving you.” He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.”

You don’t want to say it. Saying it makes you feel like it’s true, like you should give in and believe what he’s saying. That you are a piece of trash who got lucky, after all, and you should thank him for anything close to success that you achieve from now on. But your orgasm is so close you can feel the force of it numb your ears, your wrists; and in this moment, you would say anything, do anything, so long as he keeps you feeling this good.

“Thank you,” the words are just barely above a whisper, like you wish you could keep them to yourself as a shameful secret.

“For what?”

He gives you another hard thrust, almost painful if only the lines between pain and pleasure hadn’t been blurred a long time ago. You push your chest into an arch, the pendant digging even deeper into you until it breaks skin and the pain turns into agony.

“F-for saving me.”

“Good girl.”

You come then, thinking about the mark that the necklace will leave on you, thinking about how you’re going to feel it for days, how you’re going to remember it every time you feel it or see it. That there will be evidence on your body that he touched you this passionately. It feels like you’re floating, rising to the sky as you clench and unclench around him, as sound after humiliating sound leaves you.

You collapse back against the mattress when your orgasm finally lets you go, boneless and spent. You didn’t see or hear him come – in another situation, it might’ve upset you to miss it, if you weren’t still riding the aftershocks of that incredible high –, but he’s still against you, breathing hard into your neck. His release leaks from between your legs. He stays like that for a long time, slowly softening inside of you, before he finally pulls out and away from you.

You stay right where you are, unmoving. Somewhere far away, you think you can hear him searching for his clothes and dressing himself. You don’t want it to upset you, but it does; because of course he would come here, humiliate you, give you the best fuck of your life and then immediately leave, without so much as a word to you. Your head falls to the side, and even that small movement feels incredibly difficult, like your entire body is a limb that has fallen asleep. Your vision is blurry, far-away, until it finally focuses on the large window that overlooks the city. Tiny snowflakes flutter over the city lights and the dark night sky.

“It’s snowing.”

That pulls his attention to you. He’s got his pants and shirt on, the first few buttons undone, his once perfectly-styled hair a mess. He follows the line of your gaze to the window. “Were you looking forward to it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It feels like forever ago since the last time you even thought about it. The Salesman was right; the city is beautiful at this time of the year.

You expect him to return to his clothes then head out the door. Instead, he reaches for the covers over the bed and wraps your naked body up in them like a baby. “Ow,” you hiss when he moves you, pain exploding on your chest where the necklace was pressed against you. A few drops of blood dry on your skin from when the skin had split. You feel the Salesman lift you bridal-style, much to your surprise, but you’re still too dazed to find it in you to question it.

He sits you both on the thick windowsill, him behind you and you leaning against his chest, framed by his legs. It’s gentle, somehow more intimate than you’ve ever been with him even after sleeping with him twice. You watch the snowfall outside, mesmerized, letting the steady rise-and-fall of his chest behind you soothe your aching muscles.

It’s the closest to safe you’ve felt in what feels like forever, and you’re crying before you even realize it.

Once it starts, it’s impossible to stop it. Your body trembles with the force of your sobs, tears flowing from your eyes like they haven’t since you were a little kid, at least not this openly. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against himself and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping his lips right there against your scalp. He rocks you ever so slightly, shushing your cries, the sound as soothing as a soft lullaby. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you sob. You think about the snow in Seoul, about how the first snowfall always made you excited, even when it happened every year. You can feel your tears rolling down your cheeks and into your neck, your collarbones. “I want to go home.”

“Then go home,” he says, like it’s simple.

“I can’t.” How can you walk the same streets you always did, as if your life wasn’t completely changed? As if the price you paid for this change wasn’t much, much greater than you could deal with? “You’re right. I have nothing. No one.”

“You had nothing. You can have anything you want now.” You want to tell him there are things money can’t buy, but you’re so tired, so exhausted. You can’t muster the willpower for much other than wallowing in your own misery, weeping in his arms like a child. “And you have me.”

That only makes you cry harder, shaking your head. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Look at me.” He nudges you to turn to him, the angle awkward but it’s so worth it the second he cups your face in both hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I mean it. Come back to Seoul.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your heavy eyelids. “You just need to see things from a different perspective. I can help you.”

He coaxes you to lay back against him, and you do so without protest, burying your face into his chest. For a moment you actually consider it. Dropping the plans you had for a next trip and following him to Seoul, letting him finish corrupting you with whatever twisted worldview he has. Maybe it would be blissful, you think, to see all that violence and bloodshed as a blessing, as something that saved you rather than ruined you. It has to be a trap, or another one of his games. But it doesn’t hurt to dream about it, just a little bit.

Little by little your crying subsides, your breaths returning to normal. He holds you through it all, stroking your hair in a way that’s so tender, so soft, like you’re fragile. Like he cares about you, or even loves you.

You silently wonder if he can love anyone at all, much less someone as broken as you.

With his fingers drawing circles on your scalp, you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

–––

You wake up alone. You’re still naked but on the bed, tucked into your blankets. There’s no confusion over what happened last night, no delusions that your brain would come up with a dream like that. There’s only memories hitting you like a truck, one after the other, and it’s too fucking early for this.

You pull yourself into a sitting position, and you jump at the sight of yourself on the mirror. You barely notice the smudged makeup from last night, your eyes going straight to the star of the show: the angry red spot right on the center of your chest, already turning into a deep purple at the center. You flinch before you even touch it, your hand hanging in the air halfway through like you’ve changed your mind. The necklace finishes it off like the cherry on top of the cake, the pair of precious stones right next to each other like eyes watching you, mocking you.

You button your coat all the way up before you leave the house.

It’s still early enough that the sun has just begun rising, coloring the sky in a bright blue that bleeds into the buildings and streets. There’s probably nothing open right now, but you could really use some coffee. Or a drink. Probably a drink.

You find him at Pont Neuf, watching the river below. There’s no one else around, the city in a rare moment of quiet and peace. He hasn’t spotted you yet, seemingly lost in thought, and it occurs to you that you could sneak up behind him, push him over the edge and just keep on walking. Sever your ties to him forever, and simply keep going like nothing ever happened, bury it along with all the other memories you try so hard to forget.

You don’t do it, but knowing you could brings you a bit of comfort. You lower your head and keep walking in the opposite direction, not sparing him another glance.

[eufezco]

TOLERATE IT 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

oldman!logan x fem!reader

synopsis – the struggles with the growing distance between you and logan and holding on to a man who has already let go.

a/n – kinda inspired by tolerate it by taylor swift.

angst.

logan was late again, though you’d stopped watching the clock weeks ago. time became meaningless when each hour felt like a reminder of how far apart the two of you had grown. he was late and you thought you preferred it this way, because when he was home, it was worse.

when he was home, he didn’t look at you, like you weren’t even there. he didn’t talk to you, offering only brief replies or silence. the man who once made you feel seen, known, and loved was now a shadow. at least when he was gone, you didn’t have to feel the sting of being invisible in your own home.

the sound of the front door opening startled you from your thoughts.

you'd been cooking dinner for him, if you stayed busy, maybe you could ignore the ache in your chest, the endless questions you no longer dared to ask. his heavy steps echoed down the hall, the unmistakable smell of alcohol followed him into the room like an unwelcome guest.

you turned toward the hall, his eyes, bloodshot, avoided yours.

—hey, —you said softly, your voice tentative.

he didn’t answer, just grunted as he moved past you and toward the chair where he always dropped his jacket.

—i've cooked you dinner, —you tried again, forcing a smile.

—not hungry.

the smile disapeared , your lips trembling slightly as you looked at him. —logan, you’ve barely eaten anything lately, —you said, your voice quieter.

—i said i’m not hungry, —he repeated, the irritation in his voice unmistakable. he didn’t even turn to face you, his focus already on loosening his tie.

you stood there for a moment, clutching the edge of the plate, so hard that you thought it would break under your fingers. the meal you’d poured so much effort into, the carefully laid table—it all felt pointless, like shouting into a void. you opened your mouth to respond, to say anything but your eyes caught on the smudge of red on the collar of his shirt. the words died on your lips, and your stomach twisted as realization hit. lipstick.

—logan? —you said, barely above a whisper.

he followed your line of sight, his expression hardening when he saw what had caught your attention. —don’t start, —he said, his voice low and warning.

—don’t start? —you repeated in disbelief. —logan, there’s lipstick on your collar. you—

—i don’t want to do this right now, —he interrupted, his voice rising slightly, frustration etched into every word.

—but... —you tried again. then you noticed how his hair was more disheveled than usual, how some buttons on his shirt were undone. ever since things started to go wrong with logan, you always had a sneaking suspicion that he was seeing other women. most of the times you didn't say anything, not because you didn’t care, but because the thought of confronting him felt more terrifying than the suspicion itself. you had convinced yourself that if this was the price you had to pay to keep him by your side, you would pay it.

but when you confronted him, he’d deny it—nothing was going on. you wanted to believe him, you tried to believe him. but you knew that something was off. there were things you couldn’t ignore and that he didn't care enough to hide, like the way he would smell different when he came home some nights—like someone else’s perfume clung to his shirt.

—i came from work fucking tired and you are trying to start a fight! these things—these things you do are what makes it so goddamn exhausting to be near you.

you didn’t just drop the plate on the floor, you smashed it. the plate carefully prepared, a gesture of love but now, just like everything else, it was broken beyond repair. without thinking, you stepped forward, closing the space between you and him, your breath coming hard and fast, your fist tight with anger.

his expression was unreadable at first, a flicker of annoyance clouding his features, but beneath it, there was something else—something like intrigue, as if he was daring you to keep going, to show him just how much he had hurt you. your pressed your finger against his chest, steady and defying.

—you don’t deserve a fucking thing I gave you, —you spat, your voice laced with fury that you had been keeping to yourself for far too long. his lips parted as if to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. —what a shame that this mutation of yours is taking so long to kill you and that i have to be the one to suffer all the shit you are rotting in.

silence settled between you after those words. for a few seconds, you both just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze. his eyes were hard, unreadable, and you couldn't see anything shifting. no sign of regret, no sign of guilt.

—are you done? —he said finally, his tone flat, almost bored, as if your pain was just another inconvenience in his already exhausting day.

you made your way to the bedroom. as you passed him, you bumped your shoulder against his and logan closed his eyes and shook his head. you didn't let the tears fall from your eyes just yet. you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you collapsed in your shared bed. the sheets smelled faintly of him, even though it had been weeks since the last time he slept there, a cruel reminder of the distance between you. the sobs broke free, quiet and muffled at first, but then louder.

and he heard you from the living room.

you knew he did and you waited, even as your tears soaked the pillow, hoping—praying—that you’d hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. that he’d walk through the door, sit on the edge of the bed, and pull you into his arms like he used to. that he’d say something—anything—to let you know he still cared, still saw you.

but he didn't come.

instead, you heard the clink of his whiskey glass, the quiet sound of him trying to drown out the reality with alcohol. his attempts to ignore the sound of your sobs failed. but still, logan didn’t move.

the tears eventually took over and you fell asleep.

logan picked up the shattered pieces of the plate from the floor and then went into your room. you felt his arm slide across your back, pulling you closer to him, the warmth of his skin too familiar, too intimate, but it felt wrong now, like a cruel mockery of what it used to be. you whined and tried to push his arm away, your body tensed, trying not to surrender to the moment, and shook, trying to make it clear that you didn’t want him to touch you.

—don’t, —you muttered, still half asleep. —don’t touch me.

yet he could feel how it instinctively molded to his. your body remembered him, the way you used to fit together.

—quit it, —logan said, his voice low and rough. his arm tightened around you, firmly, to keep you from pulling away. then, just as quickly, his hold softened, arms relaxing as they hugged you.

he stayed there all night, his arm around you, holding you close in a way that felt almost natural. for the first time in what felt like forever, his breathing steadied, the weight of exhaustion pulling him into a deep sleep. you relaxed into his embrace but when you woke up the next morning, the bed felt cold. you turned, reaching out instinctively and the space where he had been was empty.

he was gone. but it wasn't surprising, not really. you should've known that he wouldn’t stay. he had always been a man who left—left conversations unfinished, left wounds unhealed, left you in pieces. what was truly surprising, more than his absence now, was the fact that he had been ever there at all.

[gf2bellamy]

enough — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3

part 2

You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?

The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.

Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious. 

There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect. 

But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit. 

Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.

Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day. 

Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.

Much harder. 

Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore. 

The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.

You also felt the same way. 

Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you. 

Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something. 

“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present. 

“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out. 

Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully. 

You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.

The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom. 

Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near. 

People might call you stupid.

Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.

Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.

Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you. 

But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything. 

The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.

You were scared.

Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.

Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities. 

You didn’t think you were enough for him. 

The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.

Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you. 

Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. 

A familiar, soft voice called out your name.

You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark. 

You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.

Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open. 

“There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.” 

Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you. 

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.” 

You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.” 

Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.” 

You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.” 

Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?” 

For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.

Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in. 

“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.” 

You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.

Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak. 

“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. 

Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it. 

“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?” 

You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.” 

Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you. 

“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.” 

You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.” 

Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity. 

“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest. 

She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.” 

You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.” 

“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. 

You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave. 

They stayed. 

What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins? 

You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.

But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear. 

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly. 

You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.

The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.

The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved. 

And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. 

The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.

Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth. 

Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.

You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought. 

And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.

But you didn’t do anything about it. 

You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much. 

Still, there were cracks in your resolve. 

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall. 

One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.

It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air. 

You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.

It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you. 

Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you. 

Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing. 

Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.” 

You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth. 

He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.” 

Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt. 

“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work. 

He let it go—for now. 

Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.

You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts. 

With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.  

Then came a knock at your door. 

Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door. 

When you opened it, your breath caught. 

Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady. 

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” 

“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?” 

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.

Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind. 

You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.” 

Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. 

“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat. 

“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible. 

Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade. 

Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears. 

You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.

He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response. 

The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment. 

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—” 

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.

You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever. 

"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain. 

“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”

You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.

But it was like you couldn’t stop.

“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

“Spencer—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.

“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”

“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”

For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.

Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.

When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.

Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.

But the words refused to come.

Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.

And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[wolvietxt]

𝓯orever and 𝓪lways.

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : light angst, crying, fluff, overall chaos, insecurities, hurt / comfort summary : it was finally you and logan’s wedding day, with the pressure mounting and wade’s constant input, you were finding it hard to not let your insecurities get the better of you. wc : 1.3k

it started chaotic, of course. you’d expected nothing less with wade as logan’s best man. he’d been milling around the bridal suite for the past half hour, offering unsolicited advice and increasingly absurd ideas for how to make your grand entrance memorable. currently, he was debating the merits of pyrotechnics versus smoke bombs.

logan must’ve been losing his mind in the groom’s suite, but you hadn’t seen him since the morning. something about tradition, he’d said with a lopsided grin, his hand brushing your cheek. you hadn’t even responded, just kissed him back with the kind of desperation that left your chest aching after he left.

now, though, the reality of what you were about to do started to sink in. a low, rolling wave of panic settled in your stomach, twisting and tightening with every passing second. the dress suddenly felt too tight, the room too warm, and your pulse too fast. you were getting married. to logan. it wasn’t that you didn’t love him - you did, fiercely, wholly - but the weight of forever pressed against your ribs.

“i think i’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, bracing yourself against the vanity. your reflection stared back at you, wide-eyed and pale.

wade, for once, didn’t crack a joke. his brow furrowed as he stepped closer. “oh, no. cold feet? or, like, bad shrimp in the hors d'oeuvres kind of sick? because i warned logan about those caterers - ”

“wade, please not now,” you whined, more harshly than you intended. you took a shaky breath, trying to ground yourself. “i just… what if i’m not enough for him? what if i ruin this?”

he blinked at you, then broke into a wide grin. “not enough? are you kidding me? have you met logan? that guy would crawl through broken glass for you. wait, no, bad example - he’d heal - but you get my point. he’s crazy about you.”

you looked down at your hands, the diamond on your finger catching the light. wade’s words rang true, but your anxiety wasn’t so easily quelled. “what if i can’t live up to everything he deserves?”

“listen,” wade said, surprisingly gentle, “logan’s no saint. he’s rough around the edges, grumpy as hell, and has a tendency to scare small children with his ‘resting murder face.’ but he loves you, and he’s lucky to have you. trust me.”

you swallowed hard, your heart thudding unevenly. “i just… i don’t want to let him down. i’m really scared, wade.”

before wade could respond, there was a sharp knock on the door. it creaked open slightly, and a familiar voice rumbled, “everything okay in there?”

logan.

your heart jumped, but you didn’t answer immediately. wade, ever the opportunist, took the chance to dart to the door, opening it just wide enough to slip through. “hey, bud. she’s fine. just a little pre-wedding jitters. totally normal. nothing to worry about.”

“wade, move.” logan’s voice was firm, and a second later, he pushed past the mercenary. his eyes landed on you instantly, dark with concern. “you alright, darlin’?”

you wanted to lie, to brush it off and plaster on a smile, but the worry etched into his face undid you. “i don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “i just… i feel like i’m going to mess this up.”

logan stepped closer, his hands finding yours. his touch was warm and steady, grounding you in a way nothing else could. “mess what up?”

“everything,” you whispered. “us. you deserve someone who’s… i don’t know. better.”

he frowned, his grip tightening. “don’t say that. you think i’d be standin’ here, about to marry you, if i didn’t know exactly what i was gettin’? i don’t need perfect, sweetheart. i just need you.”

his words hit you like a freight train, and tears pricked at your eyes. “but what if - ”

“no what-ifs,” he interrupted gently. “you’re it for me. always have been, always will be.”

your chest ached with the weight of his sincerity. you reached up, cupping his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his stubble rough against your palm. “are you sure about this?”

logan huffed a soft laugh, his lips curving into a small, crooked smile. “damn right i am.”

behind him, wade cleared his throat obnoxiously. “as touching as this is, we’re on a schedule, lovebirds. chop-chop.”

logan shot him a glare but didn’t let go of your hands. “you ready?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for you.

you nodded, the last of your nerves dissolving under the warmth of his gaze. “yeah. i’m ready.”

the ceremony went off without a hitch - mostly. wade’s toast was predictably chaotic, filled with inappropriate jokes and just enough genuine sentiment to make you and logan laugh. the vows, though, were what stayed with you. logan’s voice had been steady but rough with emotion, his words simple yet profound. he’d promised to be by your side, to fight for you, to love you with everything he had. you’d barely managed to get through your own vows without crying, your voice trembling as you told him he was your home, your heart, your everything.

later, as the night wound down and the guests filtered out, you found yourselves alone under the soft glow of the string lights. the reception had been beautiful, but this moment - just the two of you - felt perfect.

logan pulled you close, his hands resting on your hips as you swayed together. “you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple, “i was nervous too.”

you looked up at him, surprised. “you were?”

“yeah.” his lips twitched into a faint smile. “not about marryin’ you, though. that was the easy part. just wanted to make sure it was everything you wanted.”

your heart squeezed at his words. “it was perfect, logan. you were perfect.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. it was slow and sweet, filled with all the love he couldn’t quite put into words. when he pulled back, his eyes were soft, a rare vulnerability shining through.

“i love you,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “more than anything.”

tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of happiness. “i love you too.”

logan smirked, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. “good. ‘cause you know you’re stuck with me now.”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

ᰔ logan howlett : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen, @tezooks

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @urlocallocachica, @person-005, @nestavadavat

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[pastlivesxpastlie]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[aventurineswife]

A Safe Cocoon

Summary: In the quiet lounge of the Astral Express, you reflect on your inner turmoil and past struggles, feeling disconnected. Sunday, sensing your pain, offers comfort. As he shares his own feelings of being bound by the past, you find solace in his presence. Enveloping you in a protective embrace, silently assuring you that you don’t have to carry your burdens alone.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Comfort, Inner Struggles, Emotional Healing, Gentle Embrace, Connection, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma, Emotional Vulnerability, Mild Angst, Sunday's back wings are out in this.

You sat in the dim light of the Astral Express’s lounge, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned against the cool window. Outside, the stars passed in a blur, distant and unreachable. But inside, there was a warmth. A subtle hum of life and motion, a quiet serenity that had become your anchor since joining the crew.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft sound, the familiar flutter of wings. Sunday appeared beside you, his hair catching the light like a fleeting whisper. He was draped in his signature tailcoat, the gold ornaments reflecting the faint glow of the ship’s lights.

"Are you... waiting for something?" His voice was gentle, but there was an underlying curiosity in it. It was typical of him to ask, his perceptive nature always seeming to sense the smallest shift in your energy.

You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Just... thinking."

Sunday’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes gleaming like twin suns. He could always read you, more so than anyone else, and you knew he sensed your turmoil. The weight of your past, the unknowns of your future, and your current struggle to belong—all of it clung to you, a shadow only he could see.

He sat beside you, close enough that his fingers brushed against your back, the soft touch sending a calm shiver down your spine. His presence, though ethereal, was strangely grounding. You found comfort in it, in him. His warmth, his stillness.

"Do you ever feel..." You hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. "Like you're not fully here? Like part of you is still somewhere else?"

Sunday’s eyes softened, and he let out a breath, the halo behind his head flickering like a distant star caught in a breeze. "All the time."

You glanced at him, surprised. For all his composed demeanor, Sunday’s vulnerability was something few had the privilege of witnessing. His voice grew softer, almost a whisper as he continued.

"We live in a world of contradictions, don't we? We dream of peace, of harmony... but we are bound by the pain of the past. Even I cannot escape it."

His words hung in the air between you, their weight not lost on you. You reached out, almost instinctively, brushing the edge of his sleeve with your fingertips.

Sunday turned his gaze toward you, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. His wings shifted, enveloping you in the warmth and softness of his feathers. The gesture was gentle, almost protective, yet there was something in it—a quiet yearning, a subtle longing—that spoke louder than words ever could.

You didn’t resist, nor did you speak. You simply settled into the embrace, feeling the gentle rhythm of his breath as he held you, his body a comforting weight against yours. His wings fluttered softly, the motion almost imperceptible, but it felt like a silent reassurance.

In that moment, there was no need for words. No need for explanations or justifications. It was enough to exist together, to be in the quiet understanding that bound you both. His embrace felt like the safe cocoon you had longed for—a refuge from the storms within, the chaos of past lives and future uncertainties.

"You don't have to carry everything alone," Sunday murmured, his voice warm against your ear. "Not while I'm here."

And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe it. To let go of the fear, the guilt, the burden. To trust, even if just for a moment, that you didn’t have to be alone in this world, lost in the swirl of past lives and forgotten names.

Sunday held you closer, his presence a gentle reminder that even in the vast expanse of space, you could find a place of warmth. A place of rest.

And for now, that was enough.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 6

Summary: Tommy visits with Y/N and asks her not to give up on Joel just yet. Attempting to get Joel's attention, Y/N does something to make a fool of herself, but it does indeed get Joel's attention.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Tommy Miller, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/159622975

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Making Out, Severely Touch Starved Joel, Naked Cuddling (kinda), some light breast play, etc.

Notes: I promise to update this faster now. Thank you to everyone that actually took the time to comment on the last chapter. It made me feel much better about things. I can't tell you how much even a small comment helps! If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

Last night? It was nothing like the night before. Falling asleep was hard. All Y/N could think about was Joel. What was sad was that this was a man that she had only known for a few days. Yet? The things he said to her and the way he acted? It affected her more than she expected it to. There was a reason Joel hid behind this mean and cold exterior and she realized that. But it also didn’t stop her from being upset by the things that he said to her.

Her day spent with Joel was incredible. It was different than what she was used to and it was something she very much enjoyed. When she was cuddled up in bed with Joel, he felt like someone she had known for a lifetime. No one had ever made her relax and feel as safe with them as Joel had that night. Unfortunately that feeling was short lived because of the things he had said to her before he left her last night. 

Most of the night was sleepless for her with her lying awake thinking about everything Joel said about her. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. She was looking for something to prove that life was still worth living. For so long she had been missing that one thing to keep fighting for. Maybe she was clinging onto Joel too quickly and it would be hard for someone like him to handle.

A lot of her sleep was broken and by the time she officially woke up early in the morning, she decided to pack her things. It wasn’t like she had much to begin with, so that didn’t make it hard for her to do. Tommy had requested her to give him twenty-four hours’ notice when she was leaving so she went downstairs to registration. When she got there it was someone she had yet to meet, so she just left Tommy a note about how she would be leaving tomorrow. She hadn’t gotten a plane ticket yet, but she was sure that she could get something out of town. Even if it took a few flights to get back home.

There was a lot of pent-up energy that she had lingering inside of her, so she threw something relaxed on and went downstairs to the gym area of the inn. Thankfully, no one was down there. It wasn’t the biggest gym she had ever seen in a hotel. In fact, it was very small, but it also had a room connected to it that was around the same size with two mini inground hot tubs in it. It was cozy and quaint for her. For someone else it may have not been enough. Deep down she wondered if many of the guests really ever came down here. It was way too clean in her opinion and the whole time she was down there, no one ever joined her.

With how unbusy this place was, she was getting the hint that there weren’t a lot of guests that were staying there right now. And if they were? It was only to have a place to sleep so they could spend the rest of the day with their family. She was probably the one person that spent this much time in the inn. Then again, that’s what most people did on trips. Took an adventure around the places they were vacationing. Most of them weren’t like her, spending most of their time trapped up inside. 

Although, this place still seemed to get its money from the restaurant and bar that it had. It was smart adding those to the inn. It made sure that they always had a steady income, even on the days where it wasn’t busy at the inn.

God, that’s how boring she was. With the extra time she had while working out, she was thinking about how Tommy and Joel could afford to keep this place running. And truthfully, the rest of her day wasn’t going to be any more interesting. The plans for today were to finish her workout, take a shower, sit down hopefully to find a plane ticket home, get something to eat and then go to bed early. So that way she would be prepared for the full day of traveling she had ahead of her.

Right now she was finishing up her run on one of the two treadmills that they had in the small gym at the inn. To stay focused, she put in her noise cancelling earphones and worked to get out all of that negative energy that she had building up inside of her throughout the night. This was better than letting her intrusive thoughts eat away at her all day with the things that Joel had said to her lingering inside of her mind.

A small amount of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It wasn’t anything too big, but she could see it in the mirror paneled wall that was beside her. Taking a quick look over her shoulder she realized that someone was sitting on the lifting bench that was at the center of the room and it startled her, “Fucking hell!”

Immediately, the person that was sitting there jumped and toppled backwards onto the floor hitting it hard. Their legs were still hanging over the side of the lifting bench and it had her reaching out to quickly hit the stop button on the treadmill. Hopping down from it, she pulled her earphones out hearing the pained sound flooding the air. Shoving her earphones into her pocket, she moved over toward the center of the room to see that it was Tommy staring up at her from the ground. Helping him to unhook his legs from the bench, she did her best to allow him time to unhurriedly pull himself up from the floor.

“Tommy? What the hell were you doing?” she wrapped her arm around him, helping him to get to his feet. A grunt escaped him as she motioned him to take a seat on the bench again. There was a vibrant red color that flooded into his face expressing how embarrassed he was over the whole situation. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, it was quite the opposite actually. I actually came down here and started talking to you. Didn’t understand why you weren’t responding. Then I saw them earphones you were wearing and realized you couldn’t hear a word of it,” Tommy informed her, throwing his hand up in the direction that she had been running on the treadmill. “Since I didn’t want to scare you, I sat down here and waited until you were done. Clearly that was a mistake because not only did I scare you, but you also startled the hell out of me because I was looking at my phone when you yelled.”

An amused chuckle escaped her drawing out even more color from Tommy. Covering her mouth with her hand, her intentions were not to embarrass him, but she couldn’t help but laugh with the situation. Something in Tommy’s eyes changed when he realized he no longer had his phone. Spotting it on the floor, Tommy grunted and stretched out his body in attempts to grab a hold of it. Really he should have just gotten up from the bench since it was just a little too far out of his reach, but he was being stubborn dragging it toward him with just his fingertips. Once he got a hold of it, he pulled himself back up into the seated position he was in before.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tommy explained, shoving his phone into the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing. Searching for something else in another one of his pockets, Tommy pulled something out to reveal the note that she had left for him earlier. Waving it about had her looking away from him. “What’s this Y/N?”

“The twenty-four-hour notice that you asked for,” she thought it was fairly obvious what the note was and the look that Tommy gave her showed her that he realized that. “When I came here you asked me to tell you when I was leaving and I’m telling you. I’m going to hopefully get a plane home tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that,” Tommy exclaimed, shaking his head repeatedly. Even though she didn’t mean to, a scoff fell from her throat. Folding her arms out in front of her chest, she waited for Tommy’s explanation. “I’m not trying to tell you what you can and cannot do. There is just a storm that is starting tonight and it’s supposed to last for three days. If you don’t believe me, you can look on your phone with your weather app. I promise you no plane is gonna wanna be flying out of Jackson with how the weather is gonna be.”

Hearing that had the color draining from her face. Doing as he suggested, she pulled her phone out from her pocket and confirmed exactly what he was telling her. Frustration flooded her veins. Well, now she was stuck here and her original plans would not work. By how upset she was about the information, Tommy could sense that she was completely determined to leave tomorrow which worried him.

“While we’re also on the topic of reasons why you shouldn’t leave,” Tommy sounded nervous in the way he started to speak up again. Standing slowly from the bench, he winced when there was a tug in his back. Something ached from the fall he took earlier. Because she was a doctor, he could see the look on her face immediately changing when he started to rub at his lower back. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need me to look at you?” she offered since it was technically her fault that he fell and that kind of thing was also her job.

“I’m already ashamed enough as it is,” Tommy half smiled, shaking his head at the offer. Falling was enough to make him feel like an idiot, but if he hurt himself from falling? That would only make it worse. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stretch it out.”

Brushing his fingers through his long hair, Tommy focused on looking normal not wanting to feel foolish about hurting himself like he did, “Tomorrow, with the snow, Joel and I are going with Maria’s family to one of the local resorts. Some friends are coming too. We were looking to spend the day there. People typically have fun going there and I wanted to ask you if you’d come with us. You’d get to see one of the biggest draws of Jackson.”

“That’s not going to work,” she rejected his offer, her hands dropping down at her sides. While it was nice that he was trying to include her in something again, there was no way that it would actually happen. “Because I’m afraid of heights and I don’t like skiing.”

“I remember you saying that,” Tommy seemed persistent with whatever he was about to continue on with. “But this resort? It’s huge. And it’s not just skiing. Maria is still coming with us because there are other things to do. With her being pregnant, you know I wouldn’t let her ski. That would just be stupid. Skiing and snowboarding are only some of the things that you can do. They have this winter coaster that is there which is really cool. Gondola rides. Tubing. Places to eat and just hang out. Maria and I have talked it out. We want you there with us.” 

“Tommy, you know how much I like the both of you,” she started, guilt eating away at her with the idea that she was sticking to her decision with it being no, “but Joel? He wants nothing to do with me. So, while I appreciate the offer, I’m going to have to turn you down. Because that makes this whole thing kind of impossible.”

“I see,” Tommy frowned, folding his arms out in front of his chest. Instead of just accepting her answer, he took a moment to think things out and sighed loudly. “I was kinda hoping that he spent the night with you here.”

“You haven’t talked to him?” she was bewildered to hear that, her chest aching when she thought about the night before. With a single shake of his head Tommy answered the question for her. Tommy’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he lowered his head. Emotions were still flooding over from last night into this morning. And she didn’t blame Tommy for being upset. “I take it he’s not here?”

“He had today off,” Tommy replied back, his body language suddenly becoming very uncomfortable. “He always takes this day off every week. But I assumed that the two of you were still together after everything last night.”

“No, your brother and I didn’t spend much longer together after you last had seen us,” she enlightened Tommy to the fact that they split ways not long after leaving the bar. “He walked me to the inn and let me know that I was just a stranger that meant nothing to him. A stranger he really didn’t like much to begin with.”

“So that’s why you left me this,” Tommy suddenly understood why she had decided to go home and leave the note for him. Pushing the note back into his pocket he could see that she was uncomfortable talking about Joel. “You can’t take that to heart. He didn’t mean it. I’ve seen you with my brother and you bring out something I haven’t seen in him in a very long time.”

“Severe anger?” she let out a hesitant laugh, her body tensing up when she considered all the times Joel had slung personal attacks at her since she had gotten here. Tommy lowered back down onto the bench and stared up at her with his big brown eyes. “Tommy, your brother doesn’t like me. I was just the first person to show interest in him and he confused being sex deprived with something more.”

“Now if Joel said that, that’s just him being an asshole to try to push you away,” Tommy insisted with a loud sigh, burying his head into his hand disappointed that his brother would even say something like that. “My brother does everything he can to push people away. He doesn’t think he deserves to be happy and when someone starts to make him feel good, he always sabotages himself. It’s just…it’s who he is.”

“He said a lot of awful things last night before leaving me here,” she claimed, letting Tommy in on what happened. “I realize you think something positive was going on between us, but it was a fluke. Just like Joel said. Your brother said he wasn’t emotionally capable of being with me. Or doing…whatever we were doing.”

“Y’know what? How about the two of us go upstairs? We can grab some cider and donuts for us. Maybe we can go up to your room and talk for a while?” Tommy offered, his jaw flexing realizing that it was a lot to ask from someone who didn’t even know him for that long.

“If you and your family keep giving me free things you are going to go out of business,” she considered after all the gifts that his family had been giving her over the last few days. “While I appreciate it, I’m the last person that needs free things.”

“I doubt that, but…” Tommy stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants when he did it. “We actually give people free cider and donuts every morning during the winter. So, it’s not really me giving you anything that we wouldn’t normally give our guests.”

“Oh,” her face flushed over with color, embarrassment flooding into her features. “Then yeah. We can do that.”

Waving him forward, she followed Tommy up the stairs where they grabbed themselves something and headed up toward her room. When they got in, she motioned him to take a seat on the couch and she sat down at the opposite end. Both of them were quiet and it seemed like they were both waiting for the other one to talk.

“Something happened after you told Joel that you and Maria were having a baby,” she blurt out feeling embarrassed with the way that Tommy gazed over at her. “Joel told me that it was none of my business, but I know that the way he reacted was not normal. I wanted to apologize for him, but Joel was right. I have only been here for a few days and I can’t step into a family situation that I know nothing about.”

“I know why my brother reacted the way he did,” Tommy paused to consider and think what he was going to tell her. “I just was hoping that he would have a different reaction to it than he actually did. Sadly, the way he responded was the way that I thought he would. That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone about the baby until after the holidays. I knew that he wouldn’t respond in a positive way.”

“That’s not normal Tommy,” she decided after taking some time to think about what Tommy said. Even though she liked Joel, that was an asshole way to respond to the fact that your brother was going to have a baby with the woman that he loved. “People don’t usually act like that.”

“My family isn’t…normal,” Tommy frowned, setting the cup of cider that he had down on one of the coasters that was set up on the coffee table. Shoving the rest of the donut that he had into his mouth, it was then that he realized the bite was probably too big. With big eyes, Y/N smirked as he chewed very uncomfortably showing that he was stressed. With a loud swallow, Tommy grunted and she took a tiny sip of her cider. “Trust me, if you knew things…you would understand.”

“Are these things I’m not allowed to know?” she was curious what these things were. It wasn’t the first time she heard about negative things toward Joel.

“I can’t tell you because they aren’t my life experiences to share. I was part of them, but if I told you and Joel found out,” Tommy paused, sucking in a sharp breath of air, shaking his head at the idea of Joel being angry with him. “He wouldn’t want me to tell anyone. When we moved here, Joel wanted to leave his past behind. But the problem is? Joel’s past defines who he is completely. Joel never truly left his past behind.”

What could she say to that? There were no hints as to what was part of Joel’s past or why Joel was acting the way he was. It was just something that Tommy expected from him.

“My brother is a good man. I know that it may not seem like that, but Joel is and has always been a very good man. He was always putting others before himself. Especially when it came to me. Joel has been taking care of me my whole life,” Tommy expressed to her, placing his hand in over the center of his chest to show sincerity in what he was saying. “Joel had to take care of me, even when we were kids. Joel had to grow up fast and I took a very long time to grow up. And that was hard on Joel. Our parents passed away when we were young and Joel had to raise me. I made a lot of mistakes growing up and he was there to deal with what came afterwards.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” she had a hard time believing that because Tommy seemed like such a straight laced overall good guy.

“I had a hard time finding my place when I was young,” Tommy admitted, thinking back on his younger years. “I wanted to save the world. I just didn’t realize the toll that it would take on me and the ones I loved. I am the way that I am now because I found love again. But Joel? Joel has suffered through so much pain. More pain than a man should have to endure. And I’m surprised he survived because I don’t know if I would have.”

Hearing that broke her heart, but she didn’t know how she could possibly help Joel or even begin to understand if Tommy wouldn’t tell her, “Joel was happy for a while. Even though he went through a lot there was one thing in his life that balanced him. Made him realize life was special and worth living. And then something terrible happened. And since then? My brother has been a broken man. It wasn’t until you came around that I saw any sense of happiness in my brother.”

A silence followed with the lump in her throat growing bigger. Guilt was growing inside of her and her throat felt dry the further she thought about what Tommy was saying.

“That’s why I’m here begging you to give Joel a chance,” Tommy pled with her, holding his hands together in a way that made him feel pathetic with his face growing hot. “I know it’s been only a few days, but I think you feel it too. I see the way the two of you look at one another. Something happened between the two of you that just clicked. And while my brother is putting up a wall to protect himself and everyone else, he’s hurting himself in return. You? You I think are the only person capable of letting my brother be happy again.”

“Tommy, I’m just a stranger,” she recalled what Joel had said, her body tense when she took in all the information that Tommy was giving her.

“Are you though?” Tommy retorted, his head tipping from side to side with his dark eyes narrowing. “I know that it’s only been a few days, but the things we’ve talked about? I think you’re more comfortable with my family than you are pretty much anyone else. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” she waved her hand about knowing that statement to be true. A big part of her life she kept secret for a reason, but she was very open with the Miller family about her past. “But I can’t help Joel if he doesn’t want to be around me. Yes, I like your brother…”

“Obviously,” Tommy added with a bounce of his eyebrows that brought some color into her face. There were some positions that Tommy had caught her in that she wasn’t very proud of. “Honey, anyone with eyes can see that when the two of you are together, there are sparks.”

“I just don’t know how to be around your brother if he keeps pushing me away and wants to be mean,” she defended her thoughts with Tommy exhaling loudly. “Yesterday was amazing. I don’t remember the last time I was that comfortable with someone Tommy. And then he just turned hateful all over again. With the snap of his fingers, the sweet guy that was eager to take care of me was shitting all over me. Metaphorically speaking.”

“I know that and I’m sorry he’s like that,” Tommy apologized, but she didn’t think that was fair for him to have to do for Joel so she lifted her hands to stop him from going any further.

“Tommy, you’re his brother and when you told him that you were going to be a father—his reaction? It was very poor,” she recognized that the negative behavior went way beyond the things that were going on with her. “If that’s the way he responds to being an uncle…?”

“Listen, I wish I could tell you, but I promise you it makes sense even if you don’t think it would,” Tommy reasoned with her, wincing at the idea of what Joel had done the night before. “My brother will come around eventually. It’s just going to take time. I was unfortunately very drunk last night so I was emotional and didn’t understand his response. I was also hopeful with you around that maybe he wouldn’t be like that.”

“How would you respond to someone who was saying what you are to me?” she pushed Tommy for answers since she didn’t know what Tommy wanted her to say.

“I would think they were nuts,” Tommy knew that this was a lot, but he shrugged his shoulders and sighed loudly. “But I think you’re the one thing that can save my brother from himself. And I know he likes you. I see it in the way that he looks at you. I haven’t seen my brother look that way in a very long time. It was nice to see that part of him again.”

“How can I save someone when I’m barely holding on myself?” she lowered her head, her throat tensing up with her admitting to Tommy that she may have not had the strength to do what he wanted of her. “Joel told me he wasn’t emotionally capable of being the person to help me get to be where I needed to be. You know I’m not right Tommy.”

“You and my brother are so much alike,” Tommy reached out to place his hands in over hers in a friendly manner to show her support. “I’m just asking you to try for just a while longer with him. I think there is something there between the two of you. And I think he can help you just as much as you could help him.”

Biting back on her lip, she felt emotional but she didn’t know why. Just giving Tommy a small nod, she pat her hand in over his and shrugged, “So do you agree to staying here for a little while longer? You’ll join us tomorrow?”

“Tommy, I don’t think I would have a choice either way with leaving,” she pointed to her phone reminding him that there was a snowstorm coming that was dangerous as it was. “I hate flying to begin with and the last thing I want to do is fly in a snowstorm like the one that is coming to this town. So I’m here whether I want to be or not.”

“While that’s true…” Tommy started, sucking in a sharp breath of air, “Something tells me that my brother is one of the things that is making you want to stay.”

Yes and no. Because his brother was the main reason she wanted to leave this morning too.

“I’ll go work on something downstairs for a few. How about you get dressed in something warm and meet me in about thirty minutes at the front. I want to show you something,” Tommy instructed her with a curious expression flooding out over her features. “Trust me.”

She didn’t know why, but she listened to Tommy. Allowing him to leave her room, she cleaned up enough and wore something warm. When he asked her to meet him, she was there and he was already waiting for her.

“So,” she noticed that they were quiet while walking wherever Tommy was taking her. “Were you hoping you would have a daughter or a son?”

“I reckon I’d be happy with either,” Tommy confessed with a weak smile, his head tipping to the side slightly so he could stare out at her when they walked. “I never thought I’d be a dad so it’s all very exciting for me. But also horrifying at the same time.”

“I think you two are going to make great parents,” she decided in an assuring tone hoping to stress to Tommy that everything would be okay. “I have only known you a few days and I can tell with how you treat me you’re going to be great parents.”

“You’re a bit different than a screaming baby,” Tommy teased her with a wrinkle of his nose getting her to smile.

“Well, that depends on the day,” she joked back, nudging him playfully with her arm liking that the banter between them was still innocent and sincere.

“If things don’t work out,” Tommy was quiet in the way he began speaking to her again, his face twisting with contemplation if he should say what he was about to. “If you and my brother have issues, Maria and I really like you. We’d like to keep in contact with you if you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t I be biased then when I left my review of the place? Being friends with the owners and all,” she smirked, amused that really the only people she managed to speak to and get close to were the owners of the inn she was staying at. The laugh Tommy let out seemed uncomfortable and amused at the same time. “I’m just screwing with you. Of course. Truthfully? I like the two of you more than most people I know.”

“That’s good,” Tommy noted with a half-smile, “because with my brother I almost assumed you would leave a shitty review of the place.”

“You level things out,” she promised, reaching out to pat at the center of his shoulders provoking Tommy to let out a deep rumble of laughter. “Although, I do have to wonder where you are taking me because I’m fucking freezing with this wind.”

“Just a few more steps,” Tommy motioned ahead of them, grabbing her to stop her when they stepped in front of a storefront. “Look into that window right there.”

“’Where are we?” she went to look up at what the store was, but Tommy instead just pushed her carefully forward toward the window. Doing as she was instructed, she leaned in trying to gaze through the window that was reflecting too much light from the outside with how bright it was. When her eyes adjusted she could see that Joel was sitting with a group of kids. They all had acoustic guitars and it was evident that Joel was attempting to teach them how to play. “You wanted me to see this?”

“My brother is a good man,” Tommy insisted, moving in beside her to watch Joel set his guitar down to head over toward one of the children that were in his class to help adjust their fingers to play. “Little rough around the edges, but his heart is good. It’s just hard for him to believe that he deserves any sort of happiness in his life. The man would give you the shirt off his back even if it was the last thing that he had. He’s just severely protective of those he loves but also good at self-sabotaging himself because he’s not used to having something good in his life.”

“You’re really trying to hook me and your brother up,” she noticed how hard Tommy was pushing her to see the good in Joel. “You realize that, right?”

“Actually, I was furious with my brother yesterday morning when he walked out of your room because I thought he made a mistake that was fueled by alcohol,” Tommy thought back to when he found Joel leaving Y/N’s suite. “Now I know there is something more. You bring out something in him and as his little brother? I just want to see him happy.”

Not wanting to embarrass or upset Joel, they didn’t stay too long. Both her and Tommy had lunch together where instead of focusing on Joel, they just got to know each other better as friends. And after they did? She went back to the inn and got cleaned up. A lot of what they talked about weighed heavy on her. The fact that all she could do was think about Joel Miller told her that there was something inside of her that longed for him. She hadn’t felt this way about someone in a very long time.

There was something that struck realization into her while she lounged around her room all day. The conversation she had with Joel the night before when they were alone together in that hallway. They made plans for something that was very unlikely to happen tonight. Something dirty. But considering this town was small and Joel had been at The Tipsy Bison every day she had been there so far? She might have been lucky and he’d be there again.

Getting ready, she knew that this was ridiculous, but she pulled out the only dress she brought with her which was a tight-fitting black dress that was something in the past she would have worn to a club to get attention. It was freezing outside, so this was definitely a decision that might have been a bad one. But she didn’t care. Putting on her heavy coat that she had bought in town here over the dress felt strange. It wasn’t a long walk, but damn did she regret wearing this as soon as she stepped outside. Admittedly? Usually she wouldn’t rush, but since it was already snowing, the walk to The Tipsy Bison was rather quick, kickstarting her heart to race. By the time she reached the bar, once she entered she almost regretted it. This was a stupid idea.

People were staring at her when she entered. And she didn’t blame them. She had dressed up nice, done her make up and was out to impress if she had spotted Joel Miller. There was a sense of disappointment that flooded her veins when she looked to the table that Joel had mentioned to her the night before. It was empty. Maybe she should have just left.

That was when she took another look at the bar and felt a rush flood through her veins realizing that Joel was slouched over at the end of the bar holding onto a glass that she assumed had whiskey in it. Clearing her throat, she confidently pulled the material from her jacket down her body. Doing so immediately drew the attention of the bartender that was at the time pouring Joel’s drink. Folding her coat over her arm, she stood there for a moment longer. Noticing that the bartender must have been gawking, Joel turned on his seat with his brown eyes growing big when he saw her standing there in the dress. Making sure to lock eyes with Joel, she gave him an emotionless expression before heading over toward the booth that he had mentioned.

Taking a seat, she waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Joel’s face was scrunching up in confusion with what she was doing. But pretty quickly the bartender that had ignored her the previous days was stumbling through the bar eager to come over to get a drink order from her. Not wanting to make an ass of herself, she ordered a juice because the last thing she wanted to do was get drunk and end up home with the wrong person.

Pulling out her phone, she acted like she was checking something, but out of her peripherals was watching Joel’s reaction toward her. What was disappointing is that he didn’t get up. He just turned around back toward the bar, but every so often he would look over his shoulder at her to see what she was doing.

Mostly she was getting the stares from men that she didn’t want to get the attention of. Especially the one that Joel had terrified the night before. Considering no one was coming up to her, Joel was likely right. That guy was a big mouth and let everyone know what Joel said so people were too afraid to go over to her.

When she got her drink, she noticed that Joel was staring at her again over his shoulder and she teasingly stroked her fingers at the glass that was before her. Eventually Joel smirked, shook his head and turned away from her again.

“Wow,” she muttered under her breath starting to feel embarrassed at just how much she was failing in this situation. With how desperately Joel spoke to her yesterday about the scenario they set up, she thought doing what he had told her last night would have drawn him to her. The dress she was wearing was tight, clinging to her every curve. She was wearing something with a skirt just like he had asked her to. Seeing him blow her off like that just made her know how stupid this really was. Huffing out, she slid out from the booth and started to put her jacket on again.

Grabbing her juice, she headed over toward the bar hearing a crashing sound with how quickly the bartender came over toward her as she stepped in beside Joel who tensed up with her near. It was interesting how quickly this bartender went from ignoring her the first day to falling over himself to get to her.

“Something wrong with your drink?” the bartender wondered with her slamming the glass down in front of Joel who stiffened beside her, his back straightening when he tipped his head just enough to look back at her. His eyebrows bounced up and they locked eyes. “Can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m leaving, but he can have this,” she declared, sliding the drink in closer to Joel whose dark eyes narrowed when she leaned in closer to him. More than anything she wanted to lash out at him, but she knew that she couldn’t and shouldn’t in front of these people. “Enjoy the drink.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel spoke quietly, his expression barely changing only infuriating her more. She felt the eyes of the people around them watching and she had to have looked ridiculous. Frowning, she shook her head and turned on her heel heading to leave.

“This was so dumb,” she confessed once she reached the outside, cussing out when she almost slid because of the snow that had started to fall. Noticing that town square was close to empty, instead of heading directly back to the inn she went across the street to see the tree. Whenever things were hard for her in New York City she would go to the Rockefeller tree and she would find some kind of inspiration there. So she was hoping the tree here would have the same kind of effect for her too. Tommy begged her to stay for Joel, but with the way Joel responded to her, she felt like that was a stupid decision. Once she reached the tree, the heavy amounts of snow caught her foot causing her to slip and fall back into the snow. Thankfully there was enough snow to catch her fall causing her to let out a frustrated laugh. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Staring up toward the sky, she didn’t have the will power to get up right now. So she just stayed there with her heart pounding inside of her chest. It was freezing and she’d likely make herself sick, but she was fed up with everything right now. There was a burning at her cheeks from the wind and a prickling sensation in her legs from being bare and laying in the snow. Yeah, she certainly succeeded in making herself out to be an idiot tonight.

The sound of the snow crunching under someone’s footsteps was heard, but she didn’t bother to look. A moment later, Joel’s curious brown eyes were staring down at her. His right eyebrow arched, the crease at the bridge of his nose growing deeper.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Joel asked, his southern drawl raspier than normal when he tipped his head slightly. Having Joel standing over her like that did feel ridiculous, but she couldn’t find herself thinking of an answer fast enough.

“I’m making snow angels. Isn’t that obvious?” she waved her arms about causing Joel to smirk at her antics. With a slow nod, Joel looked around the area before carefully lowering down in beside her in the snow. Astonishment flooded her body with her turning her head to the side to see that Joel was looking up into the sky like she had been. “What are you doing?”

“Well if people see you like that, they are going to think you’re crazy,” Joel alerted her, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with her. “So this way? They’ll think we’re crazy together.”

Hearing that had her heart skipping a beat. Returning her stare back to the sky above them, she could tell that Joel was getting more comfortable beside her in the snow. Resting his hands in over her abdomen while he laid there, Joel kept quiet. 

“You fell, didn’t you?” Joel asked simply causing her to let out a tremoring exhale.

“Yes. Yes I did,” she was honest, hearing the tiny chuckle from Joel. If she wasn’t freezing her ass off right now, she might have found this funny too.

Silence returned and it started to feel uncomfortable so she decided to break it, “I saw you earlier.”

“And I saw you earlier,” Joel countered, confusing her in that moment because she was fairly certain that he hadn’t seen her and Tommy watching him teach those children. “The performance was a bit dramatic if you ask me.”

“Thank you, but I wasn’t talking about that,” she scoffed when she understood that he was talking about what just happened in the bar with them together moments earlier. “I was actually talking about earlier today. You teaching those children how to play the guitar. It was cute.”

“Hmmm…” Joel hummed, his jaw flexing with her confession to him. His eyelashes fluttered when he turned his head to look out at her again. Originally, she thought he might have been embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I told you sometimes I could be really cute.”

“And sometimes you can be a huge asshole,” she was short with him having him nod his head as if he agreed with her. Instead of fighting back with her, he just took her comment with a grain of salt. “You should teach me how to play before I leave.”

“This world?” Joel spouted off eliciting her to push up onto her hands to stare out at him. Mirroring her, Joel sat up in the snow and held his hand out to direct her attention to what she was wearing. “Because if you lay in the snow much longer like that I can’t do much of anything.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. By now, she couldn’t feel much of anything with her legs and she knew that was a bad thing. Tommy told her that there was going to be a storm tonight. She should have realized wearing this dress would be a bad idea. Even if it wasn’t much of a walk from the inn to the bar that the Miller family often attended.

“My legs are numb,” she admitted with a frown eliciting a low rumble of a groan from Joel. Watching him digging into the inside of his jacket, she knew that he was right. She needed to get out of this snow. Digging something out of his jacket, Joel motioned her forward and she gave him an odd expression. “What?”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Joel instructed, reaching out to pull his winter hat down in over her head. After that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick pair of work gloves. A rush of embarrassment flooded through her with Joel gesturing her to hold her hands up. Doing as she was told, Joel pulled the gloves down over her hands making sure that they would stay. Right now she felt like a child that was being taken care of. Tugging her jacket together better, Joel grunted and repositioned himself. “Hold tight.”

“To what?” she gasped out with Joel hooking his arms under her firmly lifting her up from the snow. Not wanting to fall, she was quick to wrap her arms around the back of Joel’s neck with him readjusting her in his arms when he got to his feet. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Your legs are numb,” Joel reminded her nodding over toward her legs that sincerely did ache. Resting her head in against Joel’s shoulder, she was amazed with how strong he genuinely was. By the time that he was carrying her out of town square, Joel was right. People were looking at them like they were insane.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked noticing that they were headed in the opposite direction of the inn. Grunting, Joel adjusted her in his arms in a way that seemed to be more comfortable for him. “Joel?!”

“You need to warm up properly. And considering you pulled this stunt in an attempt to impress me, I’m taking you to my home. It’s not that far away,” Joel responded, his southern accent growing stronger while he continued down the street in the direction of the homes that were in Jackson. “We’ll get you into proper clothes, sit you down in front of the fireplace to warm up and I’ll get something warm into you.”

Pausing to consider what he just had said had her snickering against the side of his neck and he huffed, “Be mature for ten seconds. You know I mean a drink.”

“Suddenly you care?” she tried to gather herself from continuing to tease Joel. Yeah, it was immature, but the things that Joel had said to her yesterday had eaten away at her all night and into today. Honestly? She knew she shouldn’t have been complaining because her legs ached and she wondered if she would have even been able to walk back to the inn with how sore she was. Tipping her head back enough, there was an amused expression over Joel’s features and it made her frown. “I’m just saying. Yesterday you weren’t very nice to me.”

“What did you say I was occasionally? An asshole?” Joel confirmed with her, his breathing creating a visible mist in the air with how cold it actually was. Giving him a tiny nod, she curled her arms tighter around him with him turning another corner. “It’s more than occasionally. But I’m also on occasion a gentleman.”

Even though she wanted to fight him, she truthfully liked being in his arms and just lowered her head again. They were quiet when he made it to a home that she assumed was his with his last name painted on the mailbox. Moving up the steps to the walkway that led to his home, Joel’s face scrunched up and he laughed, “Although, I do have to ask you. You’re a smart person. What led you to think it was smart wearing this in this kind of temperature?”

“I uh…” she clung tighter to Joel with him moving up the steps to his home. When he reached the door, Joel carefully lowered her down for a moment with one of his arms still wrapped around her to brace her weight against him. Digging into his pockets, he managed to pull out his keys. Struggling to get the door open, he gave her a nervous smile fumbling with it until it opened. Grunting out, he picked her up in his arms again after he put the keys back into his pocket. “Joel!”

“Calm down, I’ve got you,” he hushed her, kicking the door shut with his heel acting as if her worrying about the idea of him dropping her was ridiculous. Walking throughout his house in the dark seemed to be easy for him. Before she knew what was happening, she was being set down on his couch carefully before he walked through the room to turn the light on. “Let’s get the fire started for you…”

Watching him from the couch she knew that she was a tremoring mess. Probably looking ridiculous with his hat and gloves on. Joel was right. It was too fucking cold to pull a stunt like that. And she knew better. She was a doctor after all. For a few minutes Joel worked with the fireplace until he got it working. Swiftly, he moved one of his seats closer to the fire and headed over toward the couch again.

“I can stand up,” she went to stop him, but he didn’t allow her when he picked her up with ease. Being cautious with the way he sat her down, she was amazed at how gentle he was being with her. Especially after last night. The warmth of the fire felt nice with Joel reaching to pull the gloves from her hands. Tossing the gloves aside, he grabbed a hold of her hands and rubbed at them to gather some warmth. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he shook his head, dropping his hands down to rub at her legs that were undoubtedly the coldest part of her. It wasn’t something that was sexual, he really was doing his best just to warm her up. The gesture was very sweet and she felt a lump growing in her throat watching him. “Let me go get you something to wear. I did the laundry today, so it should be fresh. I promise.”

“You don’t have to…” before she could finish Joel had already walked out of the living room leaving her alone to herself sitting in front of the fire.

The time alone allowed her to gaze upon Joel’s home for the first time. Except for the tree that was in the corner of the room left unplugged, everything was extraordinarily average. Joel’s living room was clean, everything had a place and the only thing that she noticed was the paintings on the wall reminded her a lot of the inn. It was too bad she didn’t have the strength to walk around and explore but her body was exactly where it wanted to be. Enjoying the warmth of the fireplace that Joel had sat her near. The sound of footsteps returning was heard and she looked toward the area Joel walked away to see him rounding the corner.

“I grabbed you some sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie that I had in there,” Joel moved before her, holding out the clothes that he had grabbed for her. Accepting them, she lowered them down into her lap with Joel nervously looking around his living room. Messing his fingers through his hair, Joel stumbled through the living room and plugged the tree in to give her more light. Unlike the inn where the Christmas tree was extravagant, this was very plain. It just had lights on it with no decorations whatsoever. “I’ll turn the television on so you have some background noise while I make you something warm. Would you prefer some coffee or hot chocolate? I’m a coffee guy. Big fan of coffee. But if it’s too late for that…”

“Coffee is fine,” she cut him off, not wanting to be much of a bother with things.

“You can change in here. I’ll stay in the kitchen for a few just to make sure I don’t see anything,” Joel promised snapping his fingers. Clicking his tongue against the top of his mouth, a rush of color flooded into Joel’s face and he seemed to be embarrassed. Turning on his heel, he headed back toward what she assumed was the kitchen leaving her there. Waiting for a moment, she shakily stood up from the chair and worked her dress off. Putting the clothes on that he gave her to the best of her ability, she folded up the dress and then lowered down into the chair again. “Permission to come in?”

Looking to the entrance of the room, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Joel holding his hand dramatically over his eyes while taking big steps into the room. Holding out a pair of socks drew her eyes to them with Joel huffing, “I thought you might need these. Cold feet is never a good feeling.”

“You can uncover your eyes,” she assured him with Joel dropping his hand down at his side. Even though he was in fact being a gentleman, she really wouldn’t have cared if he had seen her naked. Strangely, she was that comfortable with Joel. “Thank you for these.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel watched her closely, holding his hand out for her dress. “I’ll hang that up to dry if you would like.”

Handing off the dress, she was impressed with how good Joel was taking care of her. Whatever Joel had turned on the television before he left appeared to be some kind of Christmas romance film. And it brought a smile to her wondering if Joel often watched these type of movies since this was the channel that was left on.

“Y’know what I still can’t wrap my mind around?” Joel’s voice made her jump when he returned to the living room with two mugs in his hands. Unhurriedly handing hers off to her, Joel made sure she had a good hold of it before releasing it. Cupping the mug in her hands, she was using it mainly just to warm herself up. “That you somehow thought it was a smart idea to wear all that just to get my attention.”

“It worked,” she reminded him with Joel taking a moment to think that over. Tipping his head from side to side, his bottom lip curled before he nodded. “Didn’t it?”

“Oh, it worked. I just thought it was ridiculous,” Joel informed her, leaning his arm against the wall that was beside the fireplace. Bringing his mug up to his lips, Joel took what sounded like an annoyingly loud slurp of his coffee and she wondered if he did it on purpose. “The whole idea was to wear something inconspicuous so we could get away with it. Wearing that dress? You had the bartender exploding in his pants. All eyes were on you. We could have never done what we talked about. With your breasts being all perky and nice.”

“Perky and nice?” she chuckled at his description. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” Joel bobbed his head about with a tiny smirk tugging at his features. “You really thought coming into that bar today would get me to come over there and do the things we talked about last night?”

“It was worth a shot,” she thought aloud, turning her attention back toward the fire. Taking her first sip of the coffee, she knew that this was more so for the warmth.

“Why?” Joel muttered with a huff, his face scrunching up in disbelief. “I treated you like shit yesterday and you still wanted to do that with me?”

“I guess I’m kind of a moron,” she theorized, her eyebrows bouncing up provoking him to chuckle under his breath. Shifting uneasily in the seat that he had moved for her, her eyes finally looked up at him. “I unfortunately couldn’t get my mind off you all night. When you can’t stop thinking about someone you become pretty desperate to get their attention. Even if that means hurting yourself in the process. Falling in the snow was not part of the plan though, I promise you that.”

Stepping forward, Joel extended his hand to collect her jaw loosely between his rough fingertips, “Don’t ever hurt yourself for me again. I may be a dick, but I don’t wanna see you dead. You understand me? It doesn’t take much for you to catch my attention. You don’t have to risk your health in order to do it.”

“Would you have been as nice to me otherwise?” she interrogated him, getting his eyes to narrow almost immediately after. While it was a nice thing to hear, she doubted that Joel would have been so welcoming like this if she wouldn’t have been stupid. “See. You wouldn’t have.”

“Touché,” Joel grumbled, motioning her to wait. Setting his coffee down on the coffee table near the couch, Joel made his way over toward one of the closets to pull out a blanket for her. Heading back over, he was careful in the way he wrapped it around her and over her shoulders. “Good?”

Turning his head, the warmth of his breath lingered over hers and it made a shuddering exhale escape her lips. Not being able to form words, she just nodded with Joel tipping his head forward just enough to nuzzle his nose in against hers.

“Why did you do what you did last night? I don’t need to know that stuff with Tommy. I mean with me,” she wanted to know his reasoning with her heart skipping a beat at the closeness of him. “What did I do?”

“It wasn’t you,” Joel slurred, his cheek rubbing in against hers and with her free hand she instinctively started to stroke her fingers at the back of his neck. “What I said is true Y/N. I’m nothing good. I’m poison. The quicker you see that, the better.”

“This doesn’t feel like poison,” she noted placing a delicate kiss over the side of his face having him tense up before her. His body’s reactions to her drove her wild for this man. Every touch she gave him had him reacting, even if he didn’t want it to. It was involuntary, but he yearned for every delicate sweep of her fingers over his skin along with her kisses. “This actually feels really nice.”

“I’m no good for anyone,” Joel’s words vibrated against her cheek with him starting to pepper faint kisses there. This was an odd way to have such a serious conversation, but she liked it. “Especially someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she repeated, her eyelids heavy when she pulled back just enough to meet his chocolate brown eyes. Tracing her fingertips through the facial hair that covered his jawline made him suck in a sharp breath of air.

Lowering down onto his knees, the heat from Joel’s palm had her leaning into his touch with him caressing over her face, “Someone perfect. Someone delicate. Someone who deserves better than someone like me. I never know the right thing to say. I’m angry all the time. You don’t need that in your life.”

Dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, Joel’s breathing grew uneven with his eyes following the movement, “I don’t understand this. Whatever it is going on between us. We only just met, but I’m addicted to you.”

Kissing faintly at the pad of his thumb drew him in closer to her. There was a longing in his eyes that had a fire burning deep within her.

“Not just because you want to fuck me?” she recalled what he had said the night before evoking him to let out a raspy laugh.

“I won’t lie, I do desperately want to sleep with you,” Joel confessed with a grunt, his nose nuzzling in against hers again. Hearing that excited her. Especially since she had a yearning for him as well. “But that’s not the only reason I like you. I don’t know what it is, but when you touch me…even if it’s you touching my face…”

“You’re touch starved,” she heard the pant that he released with her dragging her hand across the side of his neck and up over his face. Cuddling his head into her touch, Joel’s lips parted and his long eyelashes fluttered to a close. “You are so beautiful.”

Hearing her call him beautiful made a tiny smile tug at his lips and she was certain he was thinking that was an odd way to describe a man like him, “Would you hold me?”

“Are you sure?” Joel confirmed with her, but it didn’t take long for her to nod. Setting aside the coffee he got for her, she stood up from the chair to have Joel lower down into it. Helping to lead her back into his lap, Joel managed to wrap them both up in the blanket with his arms wrapping around her to hold onto her. Nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck, Joel hummed as he placed tiny kisses there as well. “I’m a mess.”

“I know,” she agreed with him, an involuntary smile pressing in over her lips with her stroking her fingers through his dark messy hair. “But I am too.”

For a while she just sat in his arms, enjoying the way the fire worked to warm her up as well as the warmth of his body surrounding hers. At some point the television had drawn her attention and she saw that a love scene was on the screen.

“You know, no one has ever made love to me like that,” she commented seeing that the two characters were laying in front of a fireplace wrapped up in blankets. “In the movies, love scenes seem so perfect…”

“Movies are completely unrealistic,” Joel reminded her with a scoff, grunting with a laugh when she swatted at his chest. “I’m just saying. Love scenes are a fabricated lie that people use to make women swoon. To believe in something more. But no one has sex like that.”

“Well that’s a shame,” she suggested liking the way that Joel rubbed his cheek in against hers again with his facial hair scratching at her skin. “Women wait a lifetime for moments like that and it never happens.”

“That’s what the film industry does. Sets people up to be let down,” Joel hinted, pulling her in closer to him with a long sigh.

“You know,” she pulled her attention away from Joel for just a moment to look at Joel’s tree. “I’m surprised how bare your tree is. You barely have any decorations in here. Whereas at the inn? Everything is covered.”

“I told you that was more Tommy and Maria,” Joel stole a quick look back at his tree, grunting out at the sight of it. “Tommy put that up. He wanted me to have something for Christmas. It’s not really my thing. It brings back feelings for me that I don’t like having. I’m sure…I’m sure you understand.”

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I do understand why you feel the way you do,” she swept her thumb in over his jawline, getting his dark eyes to lock with hers. “Whatever happened Joel, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Joel frowned, turning in toward her hand to place a kiss over the center of her palm. Curling his finger in underneath her chin, Joel led her to him, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss. It was sweet, almost romantic. And by the time they separated her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. “I shouldn’t feel this way this fast.”

“It’s okay,” she hushed him, outstretching her fingers to trace in over the lines of his face. A loud exhaled escaped him and the way he looked at her took her breath away. “Joel? Do you think you could teach me how to play the guitar?”

“Right now? Is that what you want to do?” Joel’s head tipped back, lifting to grab a loose hold of her hand. Confirming with a nod, she felt Joel shifting her weight and she shakily stood to her feet. Taking care of the fireplace, Joel held his hand out to hers and tipped his head in the direction of his stairs. “You want me to carry you?”

“I think I can handle it,” she responded feeling silly that he had to carry her as much as he did already. Wiggling her legs, she could tell that they still were numb but she thought she would be good enough to move.

“Follow me,” he ordered, smirking when he held his hand out to hers. Without question, she hooked her fingers with his and he led her unhurriedly up the stairs. One thing she noticed about Joel’s house was a lot of it was covered in paintings and not so many photos. This could have been anyone’s home really. Reaching the second floor, she knew that this would be a place she’d love to explore just to get to have a better understanding of Joel. Leading her to one of the rooms, Joel kept a hold of her hand when he flicked the switch on for his office. “This is where I uh…make things.”

“Make things?” she looked around his work room not knowing where to look first. Several acoustic guitars were hanging on the wall. There were shelves with multiple carvings resting on them. Letting go of Joel’s hand she moved over toward them to inspect each one of them. Reaching for one of them, she took it off the shelf to observe it. The carving was a very detailed one of a grizzly bear standing on a large rock after catching a fish in its mouth. A few of the carvings were left unfinished, but this one? Everything was done along with the painting of it. And it was amazing. “You did this?”

“Yeah,” Joel stood at the center of the room, his hands in his pockets with his shoulders slouching forward. When she looked to him it seemed like he might have been embarrassed when she returned it and then reached for another one that he did. “I like to keep my mind busy. I look at pictures and then I uh, well I carve them.”

“These are amazing,” she applauded him on his work, setting them down and then moving over toward where the acoustic guitars were hanging. “And you make these as well?”

“I do,” Joel was quiet while she gazed upon his work. “Those are probably my favorite thing to make. When people ask me for one, I like to try to fit their personality to it. I told you I loved music growing up, so I’m drawn to that kind of stuff.”

“These are impressive Joel,” she continued to make her way around the room stopping at one of his work benches to look at the carving he was working on. It was partially done, but it was easy to tell that it was rodeo themed with a cowboy riding a horse that was on its back legs. “I could never do something like this.”

“Well, like I said…” Joel headed over toward the acoustic guitar that was at the corner of the room. Picking it up, Joel held it in his hands and headed over toward one of the seats to sit down. “You’re good with your hands. And I’m good with mine. Just in other ways.”

“No kidding,” she agreed with him hearing him starting to strum a few chords behind her while she took her time looking upon his next work bench where he obviously made his acoustic guitars. “This is impressive.”

“Mhmm…” Joel didn’t want to act like it was a big deal because it was something he just did in his spare time. It wasn’t like it was much of a big deal for him. After she felt like she had invaded his privacy enough, she reached for one of the chairs and pulled it before him. “Did you have any kind of music training when you were younger?”

“Nothing extensive,” she found herself in awe that Joel could just continue to play a tune like it was nothing while sharing a conversation with her. “How many songs do you know by heart?”

“Don’t know,” Joel slurred, his southern drawl growing deeper as she slid in closer to him. “Lots I reckon.”

“How do you remember them all?” she heard Joel easily change to a different recognizable song without even stumbling or having any problems at all.

“Do you have to look at an instruction manual every time you do a surgery?” Joel inquired, his right eyebrow arching drawing out a smirk from her. Shaking her head, Joel snickered to himself and sighed loudly. “Then I guess in the same way you don’t have to do that.”

“Will you sing for me?” she pushed remembering that Joel had told her that he wanted to be a singer when he was younger. “Please?”

“Nope,” he stuck to his guns, changing the tune again impressing her with how easily he seemed to do it. “I don’t sing in front of people.”

“You’re going to sing for me at some point,” she claimed, her head bobbing about causing Joel to snort and dramatically shake his head. “I’m going to hear that voice and you are going to want to play for me when you do.”

“Sorry, not gonna happen,” Joel refused once more eliciting a frustrated sound from her. “Even if you use that cute little frown on me, I won’t do it. I’ve already let you know too much as it is. You coming into my house? This? It’s a big deal.”

“Do you have to kill me now?” she mocked, her eyebrows bouncing up pulling out a raspy laugh from inside of him. Hearing him laugh like that had a warmth flooding throughout her body.

“I might,” Joel grumbled, his one dimple very prominent with the smile still over his lips. “Gotta keep my secrets, y’know?”

Resting her elbows on her knees, she lowered down to get comfortable while he played the guitar, “Tell you what? How about I make you one of my acoustic guitars to make up for my lack of singing around you. Would you like that?”

“You’d do that?” she seemed excited at the idea and he gave her a single nod appreciating that she seemed to want that. “That’d be awesome.”

“Okay then,” Joel stopped playing and stood up from the chair to move over to place the guitar in her hands. Watching her adjust it made him smirk and he immediately shook his head. “No, don’t hold it like that.”

Kneeling down in front of her, Joel took her hands to show her the proper way to hold onto the guitar. Really, she did her best to listen to Joel explaining things to her, but she was having issues. Distracted would be an understatement. Joel was going over the parts of the guitar with her, explaining things and she listened, but at the same time she was just enjoying being close to him.

By the time Joel was teaching her simple chords after grabbing her a guitar pick, she felt a chill running down her spine. Joel was standing behind her, his hands helping to move hers and she just liked having him near. For a while she did her best to focus and while she learned some things, having Joel’s head so close to hers drew her to look upon him.

“Everything okay?” Joel noticed that she was staring at him and he gave her a weak smile.

Not knowing exactly what to say, she lowered down the guitar and turned in her seat toward him, “Can I be honest with you?”

“You have been thus far. So I’d expect nothing else from you,” Joel reminded her noticing the uneasiness in her body when she looked down. “Hey?”

“You’re my favorite thing about this town,” she declared, her eyes lifting once more having Joel swallow down hard with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I thought of leaving tomorrow, but nothing inside of me wants to truly do that because I like spending time with you. Call me pathetic, call me what you want, but being around you? It just feels good.”

Dropping his stare to her lips, Joel’s breathing grew louder. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, Joel led her to him to steal another kiss from her. At first his kisses were gentle and delicate. Soft sweeps of his lips over hers led her to lean in closer to him. Kissing him felt incredible and it was addictive.

Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, Joel grabbed a hold of the guitar to set it aside carefully. Standing up had her following him moving from the chair eager to meet him in another passionate kiss that had him wrapping her up in his arms.

Picking her up had her gasping against his mouth as he stumbled over toward one of his free desks. Lowering her down on top of it, Joel growled with the way that she cupped his face. Tender strokes of her thumbs against the side of his face had his lips parting. Having her touching him had chills flooding down his spine. No one had this kind of effect on him. Especially not this fast.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Joel confessed, pressing his forehead to hers. A tremoring breath escaped his lips. And in that moment? She saw desperation in his eyes. The idea of her leaving actually upset him. Leaning into her touch, Joel knew that he craved to have her near him. How he felt for her? It was indescribable. “Please don’t run away because of me. I know I’m hard to care for…”

Brushing her fingers through his messy hair, she gazed up seeing just how emotionally broken Joel really was. Conflicting emotions flooded throughout Joel, but she could see that she meant something to him. What he needed was what Tommy said earlier. Someone who wouldn’t give up on him because he was too trapped in what he was used to. Which was torturing himself.

Hushing him, she leaned in to press faint kisses over his lips. Having him panic about her leaving was not her intentions. Sliding her hands down in over the sides of his neck, she lowered them even further and dragged the backs of her hands over the front of his chest. Starting to work open the buttons of his shirt had Joel’s breathing broken, his forehead pressing in against hers. Helping her, Joel managed to get his shirt down his body allowing it to fall at his feet on the floor. Almost immediately her hands were reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt working it from his body.

Grunting out, Joel lifted his arms aiding to get it off him. Dropping the t-shirt down on the ground, she lowered her stare to gaze upon his naked torso. It was the first time that she actually got to see him completely shirtless. And she wanted to take all of him in. Placing her hands gently in over the center of Joel’s chest had his lips parting with his eyelids growing heavy. Right now she wanted to learn all of him. Tracing her fingers along the lengths of his abdomen had him sucking in a sharp breath of air.

“I haven’t had someone touch me like this in a long time,” Joel reminded her of something he had said previously when they were fooling around. Watching her touch him, Joel licked his lips when she drew shapes down over the lengths of his body toward the softer part of his stomach under his bellybutton. “I’m sorry for the way I’m acting.”

“I like it,” she quieted him, shaking her head with Joel’s long eyelashes fluttering. While he was panicked, she was in awe of him. There was a vulnerability in him that was easy to pick up on with her tracing lines over his torso. Reaching his lower abdomen, it was then she finally noticed the significant scarring that was there. How she had missed this before blew her mind. Dragging her fingertips over the puckered flesh drew out a nervous sound from Joel. Shakily, he reached for her hands to stop her.

“Joel,” she shook her head, using her free hand to get him to relax. Sliding in closer to the edge of the table, she hovered her lips in over his. Even though he was uneasy with his body, she appreciated every part of him. “Your scars, mental or physical, they make you who you are. And who you are is beautiful.”

Releasing a tremoring breath, Joel’s fingers were fast to grab for the hoodie that he had given her. Quickly he helped her get it from her body much like she had done with him. Tossing it onto the floor with his shirts, Joel panted realizing that he was eager. Not hesitating in his movements, he grabbed a hold of her t-shirt next. Locking eyes with her, Joel could sense that she became nervous in that moment. Tugging the material up her body, Joel stopped at her arms. With a nod, she lifted her arms for him allowing him to pull it from her body. A long exhale escaped his throat when her breasts were revealed to him for the first time with a slight bounce from the movement. Dropping the t-shirt at his feet, Joel’s hands pressed faintly in over her sides while she sank her fingers into his hair.

“You are breathtaking,” Joel whispered, his thumbs sweeping at the area just below her ribcage. It had her arching in closer to him with his hands sliding further up to cup tenderly at the underside of her breasts. Whimpering at the sensation, she pulled Joel in closer to her having his forehead pressing against hers. Bringing their bodies closer together, Joel wrapped her up in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest with his nose nuzzling in against the side of her neck. The skin-to-skin contact felt amazing with both of them tracing the lengths of the others body with lazy, lingering strokes of their fingertips.

Joel wasn’t a very verbal lover, but the reaction of his body to hers was more than enough making her realize what he was feeling. Wet kisses were being pressed against her shoulder, the sensation of his facial hair scratching against her skin evoking shivers throughout her body.

“You are so beautiful,” Joel mirrored her sentiment with his mouth finding its way to her neck. Nipping at her flesh, Joel’s mouth started to trail a line in over her collarbone. Resting his head against her chest, Joel’s right hand caressed up over the front of her abdomen until his thumb came in direct contact with her nipple. Circling it faintly with the rough pad of his thumb, Joel groaned out with the sound she made when he did it. Dropping his head down, Joel’s mouth surrounded her breast dragging the length of his tongue across the flesh. Teasing his tongue around the small bud in circular motions, Joel heard her moaning out and the ache inside of his body grew larger. A firm tug of her fingers at his hair had him lifting his head back to meet her in a hungry kiss. Brushing his tongue against hers, Joel’s body started to tremble as her hands dropped down to start working open the belt in his jeans. Cupping her face firmly, Joel wanted to keep his eyes locked with hers as she worked open his pants.

Tugging at his jeans, she got his pants open and parted them causing Joel to step forward. Teasing her fingertips at his hips, she caressed at his sides and up over his body again. Leaning back, Joel looked down between the two of them. Sweeping his thumb in over her jawline had her leaning into his caress. In that moment she noticed something and reached for Joel’s wrist.

“Joel?” she seemed worried with her eyes centering in over his watch that was on his wrist. What had worried her was that the watch appeared to be broken with a crack over it. “Did we do this?”

“Don’t,” Joel warned, pulling back and away from her lowering his hand down at his side to keep her from looking at it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened,” she apologized assuming that they had done it with him carrying her over toward the table. “I can pay for that to get fixed and…”

“It’s been like that for a while,” Joel explained forcing himself to look away from her. Huffing out, Joel reached down to grab the t-shirt he had taken from her body and the hoodie. Holding them out toward her, Joel’s jaw flexed and he appeared angry almost immediately. Why was this happening again? “This was a bad idea. Get dressed. I’ll get you a ride back to the inn.”

“Joel?” she breathed out shocked at how quickly he turned on her with him grabbing his t-shirt to pull it back on. Hastily pulling the t-shirt she had in over her body, she was quick to follow Joel out of the room reaching to grab his wrist before he could leave. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. You did nothing,” Joel snapped at her getting a chill to run down her spine at how fast his attitude seemed to change when she noticed his broken watch. Some kind of switch had been flicked inside of him and that man that was desperate to be near her suddenly seemed to want to push her away again. “I just think it’s best for you to leave.”

“Stop,” her voice raised, hooking her fingers tighter around Joel’s wrist to force him from leaving. Pulling him back to her, she closed the distance between the two of them with her palm caressing in over the side of his face getting him to look at her. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and I won’t pretend that I understand but stop pushing me away from you.”

“I can’t do this,” Joel confessed with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat, a sense of sadness flooding throughout his features. Lifting her other hand, she caressed at the sides of his face having him whimpering.

“Can’t do what?” she tried to understand, being empathetic to whatever his situation was. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me Joel. Whatever is going on, I’ll understand it. We can work through it. I know what it feels like to be broken.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Joel stressed to her, lifting his hands to curl his fingers around her wrists to stroke his thumbs at her pulse points. Within time his expression softened, the lines in his face becoming less prominent. A broken breath escaped him and she realized that was his way of putting a wall up between them, but she was doing her best to break it down in whatever ways she could. “I told you…”

“You’re poison,” she repeated what he had said before, his body tremoring as she closed the distance between them. “But you see? As stupid as it sounds, I’m a doctor. And whatever you think is going to happen to me, it won’t.”

“It’s not just that,” Joel grunted, his body incredibly tense as he stood before her. “I don’t deserve to have anything good in my life. What I had before this…”

“Joel,” she hushed him noticing that he was starting to get worked up again. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. Resting her head against the center of his chest, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Having her near caused his heartbeat to go faster. “You don’t have to tell me what happened or what you are going through but stop pushing me away. Because I’m just going to keep coming back.”

After hearing her say that, Joel lowered his head and nestled his chin in over the top of her head. Wrapping her up in his arms, Joel let out a tremoring breath and she knew that he was loosening up to things, “There is something in you that heals a part of me. Things that I didn’t think I was capable of…”

Tipping her head back, she stared up into Joel’s dark eyes and shook her head, “let me do that for you.”

“I’m so broken,” Joel confessed with her hand sliding up to caress in over the center of his chest. “I’m no good.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she countered, reaching for his hand to place it in over the center of her chest. Joel’s dark eyes gazed between them with his body faintly shaking. “Because I see parts of you that I don’t even think you realize exist. Just let me help you.”

Emotions flooded through his face and without saying anything, Joel grabbed a hold of her hand leading her toward his bedroom. Laying down at the center of the bed had her carefully crawling in beside him with them facing each other.

Reaching for his hand, she hooked her fingers with his and Joel pressed his forehead up to hers. Silence surrounded them, but it was obvious things were weighing heavy on Joel’s mind, “There so much good to you Joel Miller. You just have to give yourself a chance to see.”

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#14. The Beginning of the END

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/ Angst / INFIDELITY /SMUT- Making out/ Oral (F. and M. recieving) (Rough and soft)/ Dirty Talk/ Grinding/ Sex against a window/ Jealousy Fucks/ Mastrubating (F.)/ Rough sex / Unporected sex/ Pussy slpas/ Cumming inside/ Impregnation Kink!!!!!/ Safe words/ Edging/ Multiple orgasms (F.)/Overstimulation/ Spit play/ Jimin is jealous af/ Jimin is rough

Word count- 23K (I'm sorry. So so so sorry)

a/n- Some anonnie asked me how many more chapters there on the series and unfortunately I lost the ask. So, anon if you're seeing this, it's probably 20 plus the epilogue. We are slowly nearing the end now. I'm sad... (Anyway... like always thank you for reading babies, luv u ❤️)

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Chapter Index

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You walk through the busy sidewalk in silence. Your arm is hooked with Key’s. She’s been rambling about something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. You’re not paying attention to whatever she’s saying at all. Instead, your mind is racing with your latest discovery. It’s absurd how long it took you to realize something that has been happening for so long. It doesn’t make it less scary, however. 

It’s scary. Falling for Park Jimin. Scary as hell. For so many reasons. He’s in a relationship. He’s from a different world. You’ve not meant to be together at all. And above everything, he probably doesn’t like you at all.

And your greed, little thing, is about to consume you whole!

Yes, that’s exactly what’s about to happen now. You’ve been too greedy for something you couldn’t have and now you’re stuck in this no win situation. What are you ever going to do? A frustrated groan strangles in your throat. You need someone’s advice on this. Someone who isn’t Jungkook. Because Jungkook has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since the day at the restaurant. Since the moment you returned to the kitchen after talking with Jimin. You don’t know what’s wrong but it just adds more and more frustration to your stressed out mind. 

It’s been more than a week since your talk with Jimin. He has promised you that he’ll explain everything to you. Yet until this very moment, he hasn’t brought up the topic at all. Frustrating. You’re getting mad at him.  Not that you met him, true. It’s just text messages. Nothing crazy. Just mundane things. Asking about how each other’s days went or just gentle reminders to drink water. Yet he hasn’t asked to meet you or anything.

You feel neglected. Feel as if he has given you a fake promise. As if he has tricked you into something while bribing you with candy. It certainly feels like he’s avoiding talking about it on purpose. Then there is the fact that you like him. You no longer can deny it. And it hurts even more to think Jimin might not hold on to his promises. See, everything frustrates you. Hurts you. To add in to everything, there’s a teeny tiny part of you that is mad at him because he hasn’t made any efforts to at least meet you. Not just to hear his explanation. But to see him. Just see him. You miss him. 

Now since you don’t work at RUN, you don’t get to see him every other day. Another reason to be frustrated. Then there’s Jimin. Just going on with his life. Considering how desperately he seeked an opportunity to talk with you, this clearly looks odd to you. That leaves you with one conclusion. He’s purposefully avoiding you just to avoid the talk. Despite his words he doesn’t wish to actually tell you the truth. Right? That has to be it. Or you think so. Maybe that’s not the case at all. Maybe he’s just busy. 

You feel an overwhelming urge to pull from your hair. This is why you need someone else’s opinion. It would have been so nice if you could have talked about this with Jungkook. Someone who knows everything about you, inside out. Unfortunately, he’s going through PMS. He’s not available. And the only other option is your best friend. But she doesn’t know everything about you. Doesn’t know about your bitchy side to be specific. Maybe it’s time you should tell her. She’d call you out. Yell at you. Maybe even hit you. Yet in the end, she’s just like Jungkook. Will never leave your side. And in the end, you can have that advice you seek. 

You eye your best friend nervously. Without you realizing she has stopped rumbling. Her eyes are fixed ahead. Looks like she’s lost in her own thoughts as well. 

Should you tell her?

Wouldn’t you be able to solve everything on your own? But then, you know that this problem isn’t going to solve that easily. Sooner or later you would want her help yet again. And when that moment comes, she’d be more furious to know that you’d hidden something from her. 

You should tell her.

You stop abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. Pulling Key into a stop with you. She frowns at you for a minute before her expression turns into something unreadable. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she looks almost nervous. She doesn’t have a reason to be nervous. You’re the one who’s nervous here. You drag in a deep breath to build the courage you need for this. 

“I have to tell you something.” You both blurt out at the same time. 

Oh.

You shut your mouth. It takes you a split second to register that she needs to tell you something as well. “You go ahead first.” You gesture at her, feeling a bit relieved that you can bide your time for a bit. Key shakes her head, however. “No,no, it’s fine, you can go ahead first.” She chuckles nervously. You give her a look. What is this? Why are you two acting like these polite strangers? It makes you feel weird. It seems like Key thinks so too. She heaves a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, fuck.” Mumbles. Looks briefly at you before averting her eyes to the road. Now it’s your time to frown. Why’s she so nervous?

“What is it?” You ask hesitantly. Another sigh from Key. A chuckle and you’re getting antsy. 

“It’s nothing really…uh.. I don’t know how to tell you this but-”

“Oh my god, what the fuck Key? What is it?” You almost yell. A passerby throws you an odd look. You bow to him slightly in apology. 

“Okay, okay, no need to fucking yell,” Key pouts. You wait patiently till she continues. “It’s about Chan actually, he uh.. He- the other day, actually he-” You narrow your eyes as Key starts to stutter horribly. You think you’re getting a hunch as to where this is going. Of course, you know. Corners of your mouth start to twitch, struggling to perform a smile. You find Key to be adorable right now. 

“He asked you out, didn't he?” You save her from the trouble. She immediately closes her mouth. Eyes wide and gaping at you like you’ve told the most unbelievable shit in the world. A throaty laugh escapes you. “What?” You question while raising one of your eyebrows. 

“H-how do you kn-know that?” She whispers. And your smile drops. Replace with guilt. You knew all along but you never told her because you were selfish. You nibble on your bottom lip for a minute before finding your words.  

“He told me.” You admit. Feeling bitter. Key gasps.

“When?” Her eyes widened even more. You shrug, trying to act as if this is nothing. “Eh…. the day I confessed- I mean the day I tried to do soー” Your sentence got interrupted when Key suddenly stepped forward. Grabs your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You watch as something akin to guilt slash across her wide eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head. Oh, you hate this. Key doesn’t have to feel guilty. She has done nothing wrong. You shrug her hands off you.

“It’s nothing Key. I mean I was hurt back then but I’m fine now. I’m way over it.” You wave a dismissive hand in front of your face. Change the topic as you opt into an excited mood. “So, tell me? What did you tell him?” You smile giddily. Key, however, doesn’t share your enthusiasm. She gasps again. Scandalous. Now looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“Of course, I said no woman. I won’t do that to you.” She scoffs in disbelief. “How could I? I mean why would you ever think that I would do something like that to you.” Key appears as if you’ve betrayed her. You sigh exasperatedly. 

“Yah!!” Give her a serious look. “I’m seriously over it dude, I’m telling you. Trust me I don’t have an ounce of feelings toward him now.” And you’re telling the truth. A you from a few months ago would have bleed right at the spot to hear what Key just told you. But now, you don’t feel anything except the giddy feeling of knowing the dirty deets of your best friend's life. It has a lot to do with your new life. You’re no longer pinning over your boss. No. Instead now you’re pinning over a rich CEO, who has a far better girlfriend than you. If Chan’s situation hurts you, this is about to kill you. But besides Jimin, you think you’ve developed a teeny bit. You can understand that Chan doesn’t like you. And that did hurt but now you’re fine. 

“How come?” Key scowls deeply. “Your feelings just evaporated. Just like that?” Throws a skeptical glance at you. Maybe this is your time to tell her your secret. But something she said suddenly piques your interest.

“Yes it did, but wait-” You tilt your head to the sight. Feel amused. “Did you say that, you said no to him because of me? Not because you don’t like him?” You’re not asking out of spite. Just genuinely curious. And the prospect she actually likes Chan makes you happy. Not bitter. Key pales. 

“I mean yeah, that also. I don’-”

“Key.”

“Yes.”

“Hey,” It’s your time to grab her shoulders. She avoids your eyes as she turns her head down. “Do you like him?” You ask softly. No answer. “Listen, I know he really likes you. And if you really like him-” You tilt your head to look at her eyes. Fail. “if you really like him-” So, you continue. “You should give it a chance.” You finish when she finally looks at you. Already shaking her head. 

“No. Fuck no. I will never ever do that to you. What kind of friend-”

“I like someone else.” You blurt out. Interrupting her ramble. It works. Key shuts her mouth as if you’ve just slapped her. 

“Huh?”

“I like someone else, Key. I don’t like Chan anymore.” Just like that the entire conversation takes a 180- degree. You’re not the one who’s asking questions anymore. You’re being interrogated in the middle of a sidewalk. Key bombards you with so many questions at once that you barely catch a single one of them. She starts from ‘who’ and ends with cursing you for not letting her know earlier. You on the other hand don’t answer any of her questions. She doesn’t let you. “Will you calm down?” You mutter lastly. Key hisses at you.

“No.. I will not calm down. Not until you tell me who this mystery man is.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to do but you’re not letting me.” You complain. 

“Okay, so, tell me who he is? Do I know him? Is he from the communication class? Is he from our college or did you meet him online?” Key looks genuinely excited. Just like how you looked a minute ago. You feel a pang in your chest. She’s not going to like what you’re about to tell her. You shake your head. “No?” She asks. Takes a minute. Her face falls as you watch the realization hit her. “He’s not from here.” It sounds like a statement not a question. Yet you nod anyway. Key curses aloud. “Dude. Fucking hell! That’s not good.” States the obvious. “You only have a year, man. How are you… oh, god- who is he? Jungkook? It makes sense that you’d fall for him. You live together. To be honest I was afraid of something like this ha-”

“It’s not Jungkook.” You interrupt her yet again. A silence falls between you two. Key doesn’t ask you who he is again. But you just casually reach for your bag. Fumble inside for a second before finding what you want. Your fingers tightly wrap around the picture as you hold it for Key. The polaroid you manage to get from Jimin the day of your little- not a date. It took you great effort. Lots of convincing. But you won in the end. That’s how you now hold the one where you’re frowning at Jimin when he’s just looking at you. Not just looking at you. No. You chose the specific photo just because of the way he’s looking at you. He looks at you like you’re his entire world. Like you’re his entire universe. Like he hasn’t seen something more beautiful before. Like he’s so whipped for you. Trapped with you and he doesn’t want to be freed. 

Of course, that can’t be the truth now. It’s just your stupid heart making things up. 

Key takes the polaroid from you. Slowly. Scans her eyes over the image. A beat passes. 

“Holy fuck! This is fucking worse.” Mumbles ever so slowly.

…………………………

Key wasn't helpful in giving you advice. Like you wanted her to be. Or maybe she was but simply didn’t say what you wanted to hear. What you wanted to hear was that you need to wait until Jimin reaches you. You wanted to hear that Jimin is just busy and not purposely avoiding you or anything. But what you heard was the complete opposite. She said that Jimin is an asshole, which is nothing new. And how you have to immediately get rid of your feelings. No matter what. Your attempt at reasoning with her didn’t work at all. That’s how you find yourself in the same situation the next day. Sitting at Jungkook’s couch. He’s getting ready to leave for classes. Is giving you the same silent treatment like always. It’s raining heavily outside but the gloom inside his apartment has nothing to do with that. 

You’ve tried several times to ask Jungkook what’s wrong but he’s been avoiding that successfully. He would just click his tongue. Would walk away. Would shrug or say simply ‘nothing’. Now, it’s getting unbearable. You feel suffocated. And you miss your Jungkook. The one who’s always positive. Joke around. Being clingy and annoying to you. You sigh desperately when he walks past you for the tenth time without even sparing you a second glance. He’s being stupid, really. It’s not like you’ve done anything to upset him. He needs to grow up and learn how to talk. If he’s not going to do that on his own, then you should.

“Kook.” You call him out just as he’s about to enter his room. He halts. Doesn’t turn around, however. You get to your feet. Take a couple steps forward. Wait for a second to see if he’d turn around. He still doesn’t. So, you decide to ask what you wanted to ask. “Okay, what’s happening? Why the hell are you ignoring me? What the fuck did I do?” You blurt out all the questions you wanted to ask from him. This time he just turns partially to look at you. You wait with a bated breath until he answers when he just shakes his head. Disappointment washes over you. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters. Almost disappears inside his room when you shout at him. 

“It’s clearly not nothing!” You take another step. Jungkook stops again. 

“I told you it’s nothing. Really.” He says again. This time with a stern edge in his voice. As if he’s warning you to let it go. Well, the hell you would do that. This pisses you off. 

“Something’s been up with you for weeks Kook. Are you gonna keep that up? If you have a problem with me, you need to let me know.” You feel your frustration slowly turn into anger. You’ve been on the edge already. “C’mon, Jungkook, don’t fucking act like a stubborn mule and talk to me for fucks sake. What’s your problem?” You clearly expect him to not answer your question and walk away. Hence your surprise when he suddenly turns around like a flash. Even a surprised gasp leaves your mouth when he storms toward you. Closes the distance between you completely. 

“You want me to talk?” Questions. His jaw slack. You gulp harshly, clearly not expecting the sudden outburst. Still, you stay rooted in your place. Returning the glare he’s shooting at you. You hate fighting. You especially hate fighting with Jungkook. It’s not normal. But you need to know what the hell is going on inside his head. So, you give him a firm nod. 

“Yes, Jungkook. If you have a problem with me or anything else, you need to talk that shit out. Maybe I can help you.” You grumble. Jungkook lets out a bitter chuckle.

“Problem.” He mutters to himself. “You wanna know what my problem is?” Asks from you this time. You nod again. Glad that he’s finally about to talk. Yet what he says next leaves you even more confused. “You.” Jungkook shouts so loud that you visibly wince before a deep scowl adorns your face. You gape at him. Not understanding what he just said. 

You?

You’re his problem?

How and why? You open your mouth stupidly like a fish. Wanting to ask him what he meant but no words leave you. Too stunned to speak. Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to process that though. “You are my problem Noona.” He brings his face closer to you. “There you go. Now you know what my problem is. Happy?” Taunts. You feel an ache in your chest. Nothing too harsh. Not yet at least. You’re in too much of a shock to process it and feel pained. 

“J-Jungkook.” You finally manage to call him weakly. “Wh-what are you-”

“You wanted to know. So, I told you. You. Are. My. Problem.” Jungkook repeats through clenched teeth. And that ache finally deepens. Your shock subsiding and a deep pain replacing it. As if Jungkook has just stabbed you right across your chest. Of course, it hurts. Jungkook is someone who you have grown to adore. He’s basically a part of your life. It hurts like a bitch when he treats you like this. Especially when you have no idea what’s the reason. 

“Why? What did I do?” You question meekly. Your voice is barely audible. Jungkook’s hard face softens at that immediately. He sighs heavily. 

“Gosh Noona, just fucking-” Groans. “You’re my problem because you’re a fucking idiot who keeps falling into Park fucking Jimin’s trap. You’re my problem because I no longer know how to protect you.” He doesn’t yell anymore. Voice soft and visibly pained.

Your frown deepens at his words. Your confusion easing as your anger gets back to you again. That’s his reason. Well, you never asked him to protect you. You're a grown woman who can manage things yourself. You know Jungkook cares deeply but this is just too much.

“Well, then don’t try to protect me.” 

“That’s the exact fucking problem here.” He raises his voice again. “ I don’t know how not to. I don’t know a way to sit back and watch you fuck up. All because of what? Why the hell can’t you just ask him to fuck off? Why on the earth would you always let him play with your life?” 

Well, a few weeks ago, you would’ve wondered as to why you’re doing it as well. Now though, you know the answer. But you’re not sure whether you should tell Jungkook that now. You try to come up with an answer when Jungkook doesn’t let you. 

“Why are you doing it,Noona? When he always fucks up. He left you alone for God’s sake. He let you get slapped in front of a fucking club. He followed his girlfriend and left you to manage your own shit and after all those things, you just let him fuck with you even more. I was the one who saw you crying like it was the end of the damn world. If that one time hurts like that, then do you have any idea how much it would hurt in the future.” Jungkook looks you dead in the eye. Everything he says is true. But you can’t help it. You just can’t. You feel your eyes prick with unshed tears. Your chin is starting to wobble. “Jimin is a fucking douchebag who doesn’t deserve a second in your life and you know that too. He treats you as a piece of trash and you let him in when he just follows you around and simply says sorry?” 

“Well, I can’t fucking help it.” You allow those unshed tears to roll down. Jungkook’s words cut you through like a sharp blade. Jimin doesn’t treat you like that. When you’re together Jimin treats you like you’re his sun and moon. But to others, you’re certain this is how your relationship must look like. You’re the piece of meat he uses and tosses away. And it hurts. You don’t want Jungkook pointing it out to you among everyone. Not him. He promised to be on your side no matter what. 

“Why the fuck not?” Jungkook’s loud voice booms across his living room. You almost take a step back before you catch yourself. Emotions overwhelm you so much that you can’t help but crack. 

“Because I like him!” You match his voice in sound. “I like him so damn much that I can’t help it.” A loud sob breaks through your throat. And that’s the only sound that fills the air as everything else falls into a deafening silence. Jungkook exhales a shaky breath. Takes a step back. You watch as a visible tremble goes through his entire body. You don’t know why he appears more hurt than surprised. His entire face turning dull. A stretched minute passes just like that. Jungkook is just gaping at you and you are just waiting for him to tell you something. Anything. But it’s just his pained eyes peering at you. Until he breaks it. 

“Okay. Fine… Thought you said it was just physical.” He mumbles. 

“Well, it was at f-”

“I don’t care, Li.”

What?

Jungkook turns around. You jump into action as you grab his arm. “J-Jungkook, where are you-” He yanks his arm away from your hold.

“Just let me be alone, will you please? I just don’t want to talk with you.”

That’s all he says before he disappears inside the bedroom. Door closing loudly behind him. You blankly stare at the now closed door. Not understanding why he’s so mad. But it doesn’t make it less hurt. It hurts so much.

Fuck your life.

You turn around as you wipe the tears away roughly using your hoodie sleeve. 

If he needs to be alone, then you’ll respect it. 

You simply walk toward the front door, not knowing what you should do.

………………………….

Jungkook thinks he’s about to explode. The urge to break something is overwhelming. If he could just  beat someone into a pulp that would help maybe. No, not anyone but that certain someone with blonde hair and a killer smile. The motherfucking oh so great CEO of RUN. Does Jungkook give a fuck about who Jimin is? Not at all. Not a single fuck. If he could find him right now, he’d make sure that Park Jimin never smiles that way again. That’s how much anger is brewing inside Jungkook. So much that his head pounds. Your words echoing inside his skull.

Because I like him!

I like him so damn much that I can’t help it.

A loud groan leaves Jungkook’s throat as he grabs the coffee mug on his table. It’s unfortunate how the mug has to pay the price when Jungkook hurls it across the room. But he needs to break something. He needs a way to release his pent up frustration. It feels satisfactory when the mug shatters into tiny pieces when it hits the wall. Only for a split second though. It’s clearly not enough. He can destroy this entire room if he wants to. Maybe then he’d feel satisfied. Or not. Either way Mrs. Kim won’t be happy to see the damage. Jungkook rubs his face frustratingly before dropping into his desk chair. 

He just needs to relax.

Deep breaths maybe. 

And fuck, breathing hurts. His chest hurts. He knows it’s not physical. But it certainly does feel physical. The squeeze in his heart. He absolutely doesn't want his anger to morph into pain. No. But that’s what is happening. It hurts so much. So damn much his sight is getting blurry with tears. There’s a lump forming in his throat. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook curses aloud. His cheap desk lamp faces the same fate as his mug when he sweeps it off the table. 

He can’t cry.

He doesn't want to cry.

Why does it even  hurt this way? It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s not like you and he have been in love or something. It’s just a stupid crush. And maybe, just maybe he knew this was coming all along. That you were starting to fall for that motherfucker. Of course, he knew. He saw that happen but he just decided to ignore it. Turn a blind eye just because he was too selfish to let go. He chose to believe your words for it. When you said you don’t like Jimin, Jungkook decided to just hang onto that hope. Who was he kidding? You were always too worried. Too heart broken. Too invested. Signs were always there. But he didn’t want to acknowledge them. 

Even now, when you had admitted it with your own mouth, Jungkook doesn’t want to believe it. To him it feels like Jimin has lured you into that. Like it’s not your fault but entirely Jimin’s. Jimin does not fucking deserve you. He puts you through so much pain probably because you’re a good fuck to him. Hell, Jimin probably doesn't like you. It pains Jungkook to think how you still want Jimin. 

Why the fuck does it have to be like this? Why can’t it be easy? 

Jungkook curls his fists into tight balls as the squeeze in his heart intensifies. 

This is the most pain he’s been in after his so- called ex broke up with him to follow her dreams. This is exactly why J and Namjoon were worried. Jungkook always gets too attached. Too smitten. And he always ends up being heart broken. Just like this. What’s most pathetic is how he never even had a chance. You don’t even know what’s happening. You must be so damn confused why he is so rude to you. You don’t know that he’s not just being a good friend. 

He cares about you. Of course, he does. He doesn’t want to see you hurt and crying. It hurts him too. But also, he wants you to want him too. How much of a beautiful dream it would be. But it’s too late now isn’t it? 

Funny, how he thought he’d actually have a chance. How he had thought you’d actually end things with Jimin. Oh, how he wanted to kill Jimin that day at the restaurant. He knew you had given yourself to Jimin yet again, the moment you came back inside the kitchen. Can you blame him for being mad? Ignoring you because it had hurt him? Waiting just to see if you’d put effort for him? You did, yes. But at what cost, though? Look at him now. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. Blinking back the tears. There’s no reason to cry. It’s just a silly crush and it’d go away. He just liked you and you don’t like him in return. That’s how sometimes the world works and he needs to accept it. Now since you’ve told him yourself that you like Jimin, he should let you go. Maybe he’ll learn not to care too much and everything will be fine. He can be the friend you want him to be. Right?

Yes, of course. Everything’s going to be fine.

Jungkook averts his gaze to the window by the table. He has his curtains pulled aside but there’s no light coming through them. Outside is too gloomy. Harsh rain drops are beating against his window. Rain has swelled into a deafening cascade. 

Wait!

Jungkook perks up suddenly in alert. Glancing back at his closed bedroom door. He sure did hear the front door opening and closing. A warning alarm starts to ring inside his head. You left the apartment for sure. But where did you go? It’s fucking down pouring. Did you go to the restaurant? If you did then that’s fine but what if you- stupid stubborn brat- have gone outside. Jungkook stands up abruptly. Worry etching into his whole body. 

So much for learning how not to care too much. Will he ever be able to learn that? 

Will he?

Jungkook takes a minute. A minute to think you are in danger. Hurt. Physically or mentally. A shiver runs down his spine at the prospect. Your pained face flashes across his mind. The way you had looked at him when he called you Li. The way you called after him and your vain attempt to stop him. The hurt in your eyes. Fuck! He hurt you. And above all the fucked up emotions he’s feeling, guilt roars. 

He hurt you. 

Jungkook stumbles toward the door in a rush. Not even knowing where he’s going as he storms out of the apartment. 

……………………..

A breath of relief escapes Jungkook’s lips just as he enters the back alley of Kim's restaurant and his eyes fall upon your curled figure on an empty beer crate. A cigarette between your fingers as you exhale a slow drag. The heavy rain pelting the asphalt roads sends tiny splashes around, wetting your small figure. Jungkook clenches his jaw out of frustration. It had taken him a good ten minutes to find you. Mrs. Kim was the one who finally pointed him in the right direction. And you’ve been here this whole time getting drenched like an idiot?

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Jungkook walks toward you with furrowed brows. You jerk as you turn your head toward him. That’s when he catches the redness in your eyes. Puffy. His heart aches painfully. He’s the one who made you cry. Not Jimin. He’s just like Jimin, after all. Hurting you. Jungkook hides his pain behind the mask of annoyance as he grabs another empty crate and turns it upside down. “Can’t you see it’s fucking raining? What the hell are you doing here dressed like that and-” He rakes his eyes over your figure. You’ve not even wearing any shoes for fucks sake. “- God, it’s cold Noona, you’ll get sick.” Sits on the crate. Examining your features. You say nothing. Just look away. Nor do you protest when Jungkook steals your cigarette. “Yah!” So, Jungkook has to make you look at him. He does it by grabbing your chin. You still don’t say anything but just gaping at him. Then you push his hand away. 

“Thought you wanted to be alone.” Finally speak. Eyes back on the road. 

“Yes, and I changed my mind.” Jungkook takes a drag from the cigarette before he throws it to a puddle near him. 

“Yah!” Your whiny protest is drowned out by a loud thunder. “That’s the last one I had.” Yet you continue to complain.

“It’s okay. I have a pack with me. Let’s go inside, hm?” He eyes you apologetically. You pout adorably. Don’t answer his question, however. 

“Why did you change your mind?” You ask instead. 

“You know why Noona. Because I care too fucking much.” A silence falls. Stretches.

“I really don’t want you to care, Jungkook.”

“Well, I already told you once that it’s not up to you to decide. It’s up to me.”

“Then don’t fucking get mad at me because I don’t know what to do either. I can’t fucking-”

“Help it. Yes, I know.” Jungkook completes for you. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you. But because he knows. He knows you can’t help it. Just like he can’t help it either. You turn your glassy eyes toward him. You’re about to cry again. You’re hurting. Jungkook feels his feigned annoyance evaporate into thin air. He throws his arm around you. Drags you into his side. You snuggle against him immediately. “I know you can’t, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-” Jungkook has to swallow hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. “- yelled at you. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.” 

“I really don’t want to fight with you Kookie. Don’t want you to be mad at me. Don’t want to lose you either. You’re so precious to me.” You mumble against his chest. He tightens his grip on you. 

“I know, Noona.” He presses a gentle kiss in your hair. He knows exactly how you use the word precious. You’re just telling him how important he is to you as a friend. A fucking friend. Only if you knew the truth, though. The way he wants to kiss you hard now. Hard enough that you’d forget any other man’s name but his. It’s not fair on you really. He had lashed out on you earlier because he was so hurt to hear you say that you like someone else who’s not him. Because he likes you. Too much. And it’s not your fault. But he can’t tell you that now, can he?

He should. He should let you know what a messed up situation this is. Should let you decide what you’re going to do. Then there's his selfish part. He cares about you dearly, but at the same time he doesn’t want to let you go. Even when he knows you like Jimin. Even when he knows he is just a friend to you. He doesn’t want to. He still wants to keep you with him someway. It’ll hurt even more if he does that. To see you with Jimin. Still, Jungkook wants loads of moments just like now. With you. Just you and him. How selfish. 

Jungkook places his chin on your head. Looking past you. A moment ago he was so hurt that he thought it’s really time he should let go. Until now. At this moment when he finds solace in you. Peaceful. Painful, yes but also peaceful. Fuck everything else and future heartbreaks. If Jimin can be fucking selfish, then he can too. He’s not just going to let you go. No. Because he can’t. He’s too fucked up. Can’t even imagine how it’d be to not have you in his place. It’s already hard in the days you’re not here. So, yes. He’s messed up everything already.

He’s in trouble. He likes you a little too much. And he’s ready to fight. So is he ready to get hurt and pretend like he’s mad just because he cares. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles again. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know but Jimin isn’t going to hurt me. Not intentionally anyway.” You finally raise your head. Jungkook lets you reluctantly. He wants to laugh at your words. Doesn’t, however. Just scoffs. 

“We’ll see about that. I mean, I’m on your side like I always said but,” He looks at your tear stained face. “I’m gonna break his bones one of these days. I’m on your side, not his. He’s still a fucking shithole and someone needs to knock some sense into him.” Looks away from you. 

“Yah! You won’t do such a thing, Jeon Jungkook.” You nudge him with your shoulder. Jungkook just looks at you with a stern face. “I mean, he does things..uh.. but he has his reasons.” You reason weakly. Oh, how Jungkook hates when you defend Jimin. 

“Yeah? Like what?” You don’t answer that. “Exactly what I thought.” Jungkook doesn’t want to be rude to you. But can’t help but pointing you at the truth either. For selfish reasons, of course. Your face falls. Oh, fuck he doesn’t like to see you upset. “Okay, then I won’t break all of his bones, just one maybe.” Jungkook sighs heavily as he adds. He’s in no mood to joke. Yet he wants to lift up yours. Wants to make you laugh. It doesn’t give the desired effect, however. You scowl deeply at him. “Oh c,mon,he has 206. I can totally break one and that’s not a big deal.” He rolls his eyes. You gape at him for a minute before a laugh slips through your beautiful lips. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook. You’re the fucking worst.” You shove him away. Playfully. And Jungkook really can’t help the way his mouth stretched into a wide grin. It’s scary how you can do that to him. Well, he’s not going to dwell on that. This is going to end very badly. But until then he’s going to be selfish and keep you. Makes you happy and be the shoulder you come to cry. He’d not think about his own sanity. He’s fucking crazy anyway. So fucked up. 

Jungkook snakes an arm around your figure again. You rest your head on his shoulder. “But seriously, Noona, I’m so sorry for- uh- earlier-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Kookie.”

“Yeah? How about Ice cream then?”

“Hm, that sounds acceptable.” A soft giggle escapes you. 

“Deal.” Jungkook mutters. “Oh, and Tae wants us to hang out at his place tonight. Dinner or something. And he specifically said drinks are on him. I think he wants to pay back Namjoon since those animals just inhaled all the alcohol that day.” He quickly adds. You straighten up immediately. 

“Really? And you want to go? I thought you don’t like any of them. You looked like you wanted to kill Tae.” You blink at his face confused. To tell the truth, Jungkook doesn’t like them. Because Taehyung and the rest are helping Jimin to ruin you. Helping Jimin to take you away from him. But if he thinks about it, if it wasn’t for that, Jungkook would have become best buddies with Taehyung. Jungkook likes Taehyung. Or at least he did before all this. Their energy just matches. So, he thinks maybe he'd be able to look past everything. Besides, you look like you need all the distractions in the world. 

“Yes. I want to go. I mean free drinks Noona. Who’s gonna turn that down? Not me for sure.” He gives you a smug look. You accept that excuse. “And if I have time, I’ll find a way to kill our host. Now-” Jungkook stands up from the crate. Holds his hand for you. You take it without questions. “-let’s just bribe you with Ice cream.” He pulls you to your feet. 

You giggle adorably.

Jungkook thinks his heart just exploded. 

………………………..

There were two main reasons for you to be excited about a hang-out at Taehyung’s place. Much needed distraction and a fun night was obviously the second reason. Your first and main reason for wanting to be here tonight undoubtedly was Jimin. You expected to see Jimin for the first time after weeks at Taehyung’s place. You were giddy and excited like a silly school girl about the prospect. Butterflies were swarming inside your tummy as you got ready for the night. Beautifully. Putting up extra effort to appear a little bit more sexy than you already were. You didn’t even want a chance to talk with Jimin. No need of hearing any explanations. You just wanted to see him. Wanted to see the way he beams to see you back. A little boyish smile from him. 

But now when you’re here. Sitting at Taehyung’s couch, obviously third wheeling two J’s- Jin and J- you feel utterly stupid. Oh, so stupid. There’s not a sign of Park Jimin. At first you thought he’s just late. It’s been more than two hours now, however. At this rate you’re positive that he isn't attending. How ridiculous. All the effort you put in is for nothing. 

You throw a sneaky glance at your phone. You have texted him like five times now. No reply. Not for a single one. Oh, how you want to scream. You’re getting restless. This puts you on edge. It makes you sad if he’s not going to be here but what makes you mad is the fact that he’s ignoring you. The night is going to be exhausting for you. At least Jungkook is enjoying himself. You look at him at the other corner of the living room. Being so enamoured about Taehyung’s little figurine collection. Despite claiming he didn’t like Taehyung, he seemed to be getting along with him quite well. Is clinging to Taehyung at his hip. 

Funny thing. Jungkook is. 

As though he sensed your stares Jungkook turns around at the right moment. Meeting your eyes and beaming. “Noona. Have you seen this? This little shit has the entire collection of Eclipse Vanguard.” Walks toward you with a figurine that looks like a frog. A frog eating a sandwich. You throw a skeptical glance at it when Jungkook holds it for you. You don’t know what that movie is. But have heard Jungkook talk about it before. 

“I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear you calling me a little shit.” Taehyung grumbles as he joins you two. Both you and Jungkook ignore him. 

“Why’s it a frog and why is the damn frog eating a sandwich?” You inspect the figurine on your hands. 

“That’s the snack guardian. That’s why he’s eating a sandwich.” Jungkook plops next to you on the couch with a grin. You snort loudly. Guardian of what now? Open your mouth to tell him how ridiculous that sounds when Taehyung interrupts you. 

“Wait? You haven’t watched Eclipse Vanguard? How’s that even possible?” He questions in disbelief. Sits at the armchair right across from you. A glass of whiskey in his hand. 

Oh, fuck!

You stare at his face dumbly for a second before averting your gaze to Jungkook. In hope that he’d save you from the situation. He does.

“Why not? She doesn’t like that movie.” Jungkook states, matter of factly. Even nods to prove his point. You agree with Jungkook by violently nodding. 

“Yes. I hate it.” Add just for the sake of it. Taehyung lets out a loud gasp in offense. Turns his mouth into a wide ‘o’ and clutches his chest. Tries to say something when Yoona butts in. 

“Really? You hate it? I mean, as a person who loves art, I normally don’t watch shitty movies but I loved the Eclipse V. Series. Not so bad.” She hands over another drink to Namjoon before sitting on his lap. Taehyung is apparently showering everyone with drinks. And everyone seems to be in a good mood. Except you, of course. 

“No, no. It’s the shittiest I’ve ever seen.” J suddenly perks up. Leans forward so she can look at you over Jin. “If you haven’t seen it yet, Li, just trust me, don’t watch it.” 

“Yah! Do. Not. Fucking. Shit. Talk about my favourite movie.” Jungkook bellows as he throws a cushion at J, which Jin catches easily.

“But it is the shittiest. I can’t even understand why you guys like it.” J flips off Jungkook before turning his attention to Jin. “Don’t tell me you like it too?” Questions. Jin opens his mouth awkwardly. Just to close it back and give J a sheepish smile. 

“If you tell you don’t like it Hyung, I’m gonna burn your entire CD collection and steal your figurines.” Hoseok mindlessly says as he’s scrolling through his phone. The guy looks surprisingly sober compared to other gatherings you’ve had before. Yoongi snorts. “You have a collection too?” Asks Jin smugly when Jin groans. Ignores Yoongi.

“I’d like to see you try stealing my collection Hobi. In case you don’t know I can be pretty violent if I want to.”

Everyone breaks into stating their own opinions following that. Someone arguing why Seokjin would never be violent while someone going on about why Eclipse Vanguard is a good movie. None of it makes any sense and is not related to each other. Yet, it’s getting heated, nonetheless. Taehyung even has to sit up and guard his little figurines from J. Jungkook joins him as well. A small smile graces over your lips at the sudden chaos in the wonderland as your eyes drift to your empty wine glass. You’ve already downed flour glasses. Are getting there while already being more than tipsy. But you’re up to get drunk until your vision turns black tonight.

You get up on your feet while Jin tries to explain to an offended J, why she has an awful taste. 

“Well, if I have a bad taste, then what does that tell about you, Mr. Kim. Seok. Jin. You’re obviously one of my choices and are you telling me that you’re an awful one.” J tilts her head sassily as you pass her. 

You quickly glance at Jungkook to check if he wants another drink but he’s busy creating a pillow fortress around Taehyung’s figurines. Drunk. Is already drunk. Just like Taehyung. Two men are giggling like teenage girls. You shake your head as you walk past everyone toward the kitchen. Namjoon and Yoona are in their own world while Hoseok and Yoongi are in a serious conversation. You guess the topic of that very serious conversation is about the same movie. 

You enter the silent and empty kitchen. You’ve had pizza for dinner. Empty pizza boxes are still lying on the kitchen counter, surrounded by different liquor bottles. Seoyeon isn’t going to be happy about the mess. You pick up the red wine bottle thinking that you should get this cleaned before you leave. 

When you asked Taehyung about Seoyeon’s whereabouts he had just vaguely mumbled she had work. No one questioned anything more. 

You fill the glass to the brim with expensive wine. Well, you want to get drunk and Taehyung is giving you free drinks. Who can complain? You sip your drink a little as you turn around to join the crowd again. Only to come into a dead halt and jump in your spot at the sudden figure just appears in front of you. 

“Holy shit!” You curse aloud as some of the wine spills onto your black top. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Jimin blurts out as he grabs some tissues. Walking directly toward you and starting to dab at your blouse, right away. You just peer at his face with an open mouth. 

Oh!

Jimin.

He’s here finally. Jimin made it.

You feel that giddy sensation inside you. Almost makes you grin wide but you catch yourself. He’s here. But he hasn’t replied to your texts and has been putting you on the edge. You click your tongue in annoyance. Snatch the tissues from Jimin’s hand, making the poor guy startle. 

“I can do it myself.” You grumble. Start to dab away the spilled wine from your top. Trying not to look at Jimin but he makes your attempt futile by softly grabbing your chin. Tilt your face upward. Peers at your eyes.

“Hey!” Mumbles oh, so softly that you’re positive you just melted into a little puddle. Your annoyance starts to dissipate under his warm gaze. You hate the effect he has on you. “Someone’s in a mood.” Jimin adds. Gives you an amused smile. Bites on his bottom lip that you can’t help but drop your gaze into his pink lips. 

“I am in a mood. You didn’t even reply to me.” You pout. Now you look at him closely and carefully, you can see how tired he looks. There’s that glint in his eyes but he looks exhausted. You can understand he has a job to do. And maybe you  shouldn’t give him a hard time too. So, you sigh heavily, ready to apologize and say that it’s okay. Jimin beats you to it, however. His amused smile vanishes. Entire expression turns so serious that you feel your stomach churn uncomfortably. A prickle of sensation that something isn’t right engulfs you whole. 

“I’m sorry. I had to uh…” You flicker your gaze between Jimin’s brown orbs. Waiting patiently for him to tell you what happened while he hesitates. You want him to tell you. You want to know. Not because you’re nosy and curious but it makes you happy to think that Jimin tells you about his problems. How funny. But you need that. Yet his next words make you regret ever wanting to know that at all. “Was with Liya’s family. A dinner.” Jimin drops his hand down. 

You feel your stomach drop. 

“Oh!” That’s all you could come up with. There’s a sudden bitterness in your tongue. Your blood starts to boil. 

Jealousy! 

There’s no way you can deny it anymore. No way you can mistake it as something else. You’re undoubtedly, unmistakably are getting fucking jealous. Well, of course, you are. You like Park Jimin. A lot in that case. Anything and everything that has him to do with another girl makes you burn with jealousy. Even though you have no right to. Jimin would think you’re crazy if he ever knew. So, you bite inside your cheeks to calm yourself. Try to say it’s cool when a sudden voice interrupts you. 

“No Seoyeon, I can’t drink tonight. It’s an early morning tomorrow.” You recognize the voice right away. Jimin steps away from you. Just a little. You pretend that it doesn't hurt you when Seoyoen enters the kitchen first, closely followed by Kim Liya. Why would you even be surprised? This is Seoyeon’s place and Liya is going to be here. That doesn’t make you feel any better, however.  

Seoyeon stops dead at the track right as her eyes land on you. Liya stops behind her. Her eyes darting between you and Jimin. You feel small under the attention. 

“Why are you here?” Seoyeon questions with a sharp edge in her voice. Heat rushes to your face instantly. 

Oh, how embarrassing. You don’t even know how to answer her.

“Probably because she’s invited.” Jimin answers on your behalf. Which you don’t appreciate much by the way Seoyeon throws him a scandalous look. A moment passes. 

“Why are you speaking for her? She can’t talk?” Seoyeon scoffs. “It’s okay Seo.” Liya breaths out. Steps around Seoyeon to walk toward the drinks. You throw a skeptical glance at her. Seoyeon, however, isn’t ready to listen to her best friend, it seems. 

“It’s not okay, Liya.” She mumbles before pointing a finger toward you. “You.” She grits. “How fucking dare you come here, after all the shits you’ve done? To my place at that? After you went behind my best friend's back? What kind of a sister are you? And you have the fucking audacity to step inside my house-”

“Okay, shut the fuck up Seoyoen. It’s none of your fucking business.” You wince when Jimin’s sudden voice booms across the spacious kitchen. 

“How’s that not my business? This is my house for fucks sake!”

“Then ask your damn boyfriend why he invited her.” A silence falls. For a second before Taehyung breaks it by barging in. Just by the look on his face, you know people heard the commotion inside the kitchen. Taehyung is scowling deeply and his jaw is slack when he makes it next to Seoyeon. 

“What’s happening?” He asks Jimin. Jimin chuckles. In a very taunting way. “Ask your rude little girlfriend. You forgot to get her permission before inviting people here.” Jimin glares at Seoyeon so hard that you worry she’d actually burn for a minute. Taehyung throws Jimin a look in displeasure. It’s a low blow, after all. 

“I don’t need anyone’s permission to invite my friends to my place.” Taehyung puts extra emphasis in the last few words. Averts his gaze to his girlfriend. Seoyeon doesn’t look back at him. Her eyes are still on you. You feel beyond uncomfortable at this rate. And that intensifies when you catch Jungkook entering the kitchen. A murderous glare in his eyes. This is not good. You don’t want anyone to fight. 

“Yeah? But you can’t fucking invite sluts to our home, Kim Taehyung.”

“What the fuck did you say?” Jimin steps forward just a second before Jungkook does. You just want to shrink. Want the floor to split open and swallow you whole. 

“I called her a slut, Jimin. Why? Does that bother you?”

“For fucks sake Seoyeon, will you just shut up?” Teahyung doesn’t let Jimin tell anything else. You feel your head spin. Seoyeon yells something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. So does Taehyung. You wander your gaze from the fighting couple to Jungkook. Just standing there like an animal ready to attack his prey any minute. 

God this is not good.

You notice with your blurry gaze that the rest of your friends have made it to the kitchen as well. Great! Now you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of everyone, again. You’re causing chaos everywhere you go. The argument is getting heated by every passing minute. You need to end this. Or at least you need to remove the cause of this stupid fight. Which is you. 

“I’ll just leave.” You shout over everyone’s voice. Everything falls into silence at once. All eyes are dropping on you. “Kookie, can we go?” You ask Jungkook. Don’t wait for his answer as you almost step away. Almost since even before you can take a step forward, Jimin’s hand grabs your wrist tightly.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

What?

You feel your heart beating in your throat. This is ridiculous. See now, you’d be very glad that Jimin is standing with you. Defending you. Taking your side. But at this moment, you think it’d do more harm than any good. The way Jin’s- who’s standing behind a horrified looking J- face tightens is the best proof for that. These people might have forgiven your sins once but now you’re sure they’d just want to kill you with their bare hands. 

“Jimin.” You whisper yells to no avail. Jimin gives you a look. You’re getting embarrassed. 

“Gosh, this is-” Seoyeon rakes her fingers through her raven hair. “Why the fuck are you just watching this Liya?” Suddenly turns to Liya. Who’s been awfully quiet all these times. Hell, you nearly even forgot her. You turn your head toward her to catch her just sipping wine. 

Really?

She straightens up when attention falls on her. “What? It’s not like that anyone would listen to anyone, anyway.” She shrugs. Looks like she’s made a point but no one seems impressed. “Okay.” So, she sighs after a beat. Looks at Jimin. “I mean, it’s good that my boyfriend is sticking up to my family.” States as a smile spreads across her face. You feel Jimin tense beside you. Something is wrong. “I really appreciate you taking my side Seo,” Liya averts her eyes to Seoyeon again. “But, it's a little rude and impolite that you’re asking to leave a guest who’s clearly invited here.” Places her wine glass away. 

Okay, now this doesn’t make any sense. What the fuck is Liya doing. Even Seoyeon looks baffled. Her entire face turns red. Opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish. “Are you serious, right now?” Mutters almost inaudibly.

“Yes. Very. Besides, even though I didn’t expect to see my sister here, I’m glad that you’re here.” Liya pays her full attention to you now. Her eyes flicker to where Jimin is touching you. It feels like her gaze can burn you. You get the urge to yank your hand away but Jimin doesn’t allow you. “Since you miss the family dinner and all.” She smiles again. A smile that oozes venom. You watch her smug expression. Not exactly knowing whether you want to hear what she has to say or not. Before anything, however, Jimin steps up. Drags you behind him. As if he’s afraid that Liya’d hit you again.

“Not now, Liya!” States sternly. That voice doesn’t do anything to falter Liya’s smile, though. 

“Why not? She’s family. She deserves to know it. And so does everyone here. Taehyung here would be heartbroken if you hide something so important from him, baby.” Liya gestures to Taehyung, who’s looking at Jimin intently. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Seoyeon is the one who raises the question, however. Liya gives Jimin a ‘see what I said’ kind of look. Jimin ignores her. Turns to you. Looks past you and glance at the still very dangerously calm and collected Jungkook. 

“You’re both drunk. Let me drop you both off.” Mumbles. You know he’s trying to avoid whatever Liya is about to say. And for some reason, you don’t want to listen to that either. You nod lightly and almost turn to Jungkook to see if he agrees when Liya chuckles. 

“We’re getting engaged.” Her voice comes out loud and clear. Enough to be heard by everyone in the vicinity. And you freeze. Completely. Your ears start to ring and your heart beat slows down.

They are doing, what now?

“Wait? What?” You don’t know who asks that. Maybe, Hoseok. Or Taehyung.

“Engaging? When? Why all of a sudden?” That’s definitely Jin and he steps all the way inside the kitchen. You look at Jimin. Confused. He looks stressed. Pissed but also guilty. That’s not good. 

“No. It’s not-” Jimin starts only to get interrupted. 

“No? Oh, but I thought we both agreed, Jimin. When my parents asked about it?” Liya steps toward Jimin and he finally lets go of your hand. His full attention on Liya. 

“You agreed, not me.” Jimin shouts.

“Then what? Did you say no? I didn’t hear you say no.”

“Wait? Just tell us what’s the fucking rush?” Hoseok butts in. His voice is serious. You don’t want to be here. 

“There’s no rush Hoseok. We’ve been together for like five years and my parents think it’s time. I think it’s time.” Liya answers Hoseok dismissively. You want to go. 

“Can we fucking talk about this later? This is ridiculous that you brought this up in front of everyone.” Jimin grabs Liya’s attention back to him. “I just announced the happy news, Jimin.” Liya counters. 

Happy news!

How funny that you don’t see a single happy person here. Half looks surprised, Seoyeon being the most surprised one. And the other half looks angry, Jimin being the most angered one. This is humiliating. You don’t know what other people are thinking about you. Do they pity you? Disgust you? 

You just want to leave. 

Well, no one’s stopping you right now. Jimin is no longer holding you. You can leave. You turn to Jungkook instantly. Don’t give a fuck about what’s happening here anymore. It doesn’t matter anyway. It hurts, yes. So damn much but you think this is how it’s always meant to end. You were and always will be the other woman. You shouldn’t have let Jimin drag you back into this mess. Maybe Jungkook is right. Jimin is playing you skillfully. 

“Kookie, let’s leave.” You mumble to Jungkook. Jungkook perks up. His expression is unreadable. He says nothing, however. Just nods. 

You turn to Liya at the same time Jimin turns to you. “Congratulations, you both!” You mutter looking between Jimin and Liya. You don’t want to appear weak. You like Jimin but only you and Jungkook know. You think it’s embarrassing to let other people know the truth as well. It’s better to keep your dignity and walk away like this is nothing. You force yourself to smile. 

“No, what? Lil, no. I’ll just- wait for me, I’ll drop you both off.” Jimin tries again to stop you but you avoid his hands successfully this time. 

“No need Jimin. We’ll take a cab. Just- uh.. Yeah, see you guys later.” You bow lightly to everyone. Yes, you can pretend everything’s fine and leave. Can cry later and nobody would ever know how hurt you are. As long as they don’t know it’s not humiliating. Jimin, however, doesn’t appear to understand at all. 

“No, fuck no. I’m coming with you or you’re staying here.” You look at the way that familiar fire inside his eyes. And that fire ignites the gasoline inside you. You feel your nerves lit up. How dare he think he can demand you? After everything? Yet before you can say anything else a hand comes landing on Jimin’s chest firmly.

“She said she wants to leave, asshole.” Jungkook shouts at the same time he pushes Jimin back. Gets Jimin in surprise that he loses his balance for a minute before he catches himself. Then before you know it he's grabbing from Jungkook’s t-shirt. 

“The fuck is your problem, Jeon. Fucking stay away.” Jimin grits. Pushes Jungkook too. A shiver runs through you. Jungkook mutters something incoherent as he lashes at Jimin. This time Jimin being ready to avoid it and fight back but you step between them immediately. 

“No. Kook. No..” You place your hand on his chest. 

“Fucking stay away Noona.” Jungkook doesn’t listen to you. So, you have no other options but to yell.

“Fucking stop acting like a kid, will you?” It works. He halts. Turns his furious glare at you. Takes a minute then a soft chuckle leaves him. “I want to leave. Just fucking go.” That’s all you say before you grab his hand. Starting to storm away. Jimin says something else in panic. You’re positive he tries to follow you. Last thing you hear is Taehyung stopping him.

“Let them leave Jimin. Not like you’re gonna solve this mess, anyway.”

Exactly! 

He’s not going to solve this mess at all.

……………………..

The entire cab ride into Jungkook’s place happened in silence. In deafening silence but the tension and the anger brewing inside both of you screamed so palpable it felt almost audible.

You were mad at lots of things. Mad at yourself for falling into Jimin’s spell again when you knew deep down that it would never end well. Mad that you allow yourself to walk into this mess. Fall for Jimin. You’re mad at Jimin for being so selfish. For giving you false promises about everything getting better one day when he probably doesn’t even like you. Mad at Jimin for acting that way in front of everyone and making them hate you even more. Mad at Jimin for making you like him when you have no hopes at all. 

Then you’re mad at Jungkook. For trying to fight Jimin like a mad cow when it wasn’t his battle to fight. For letting his emotions get the best of him.For making you feel and appear weak. Making you look like you can’t stand up for yourself. But above all you’re mad at this stupid situation that has put you in this mess. 

Fuck everything.

You are still vibrating with your anger by the time you enter Jungkook’s house behind him. You close the door behind you. Glare at his retreating figure. Not even caring to remove his shoes. 

“Remove your fucking shoes, Joen.” You shout, making him stop. Just for him to ignore you and continue walking. “Yah!” You kick away your own shoes. Follow after Jungkook to stop him by grabbing his arm. “You’re making a mess of the floor.” You turn him around. 

“And why the fuck would you care?” He matches your voice. 

“Because you’re dirtying the floor.” Both of you know that you don’t give a damn about the floor. You’re just trying to pick up a fight. And you feel frustrated when Jungkook just removes his shoes without a word. Steps out of them. 

“Happy?” Asks. Starts to walk away again. You feel like crying due to the burning anger inside you. 

“Why did you do that?” You just won’t let Jungkook off the hook that easily. It’s not fair really. Sweet Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be the target of your wrath for many different things. But you’re too deep in your emotions to care. 

“Did what?” Jungkook breaths out. 

“Fight Jimin?”

“Really?” Jungkook turns around again. “Well, I did tell you that I’m going to break his bones one of these days, didn’t I? And that fucker need to know his place. I don’t give a fuck about his status or anything else Noona. He just can’t demand you around like that when he’s the one in the wrong. Who the fuck does he think he is?”

“I could’ve handled it perfectly fine by myself. I don’t want you to fucking fight on my behalf.” 

“Then fucking do it, dammit.” Jungkook closes the distance between you like a flash. Cups your cheeks and pushes you back so fast that you don’t even register your back has hit the wall. “Then do it. Call him now, ask him to fuck off and leave you alone. Tell him that it’s fucking over. You didn’t fight for yourself, Noona. You just stood there looking like a broken doll. You were so worried and looking forward to seeing him  when he was planning his damn engagement. And then you just congratulate them? What the fucking is wrong with you? Why are you letting them belittle you that way?”

“I-I..” You try to come up with something. Just to realize that you don’t know what to say. You didn’t know that you looked broken that moment, after all. 

“I don’t even get why you like Jimin, anyway. He’s a rude asshole like I always said. Why do you like him, Noona? What the fuck does he have? He made you cum so hard that you fell in love with him?” Jungkook brings his face inches closer to you. You gulp harshly. “Well, guess what, he’s not the only one who can do that. I can do it, you know. I can make you cum harder than him and can treat you way fucking better.” 

“Ju-jungkook.” You feel dumb. Stunned. Completely speechless. Among everything, this is something you’ve expected the least. What’s Jungkook even talking about? No. No, he can’t be serious. 

“I can do it all better, Noona.” Jungkook’s raised voice suddenly drops. Whispers against your mouth, instead. That’s the only warning you get before you feel his soft lips on yours. Harsh. Hard. Instantly falling into moving against your mouth. A surprised gasp leaves you as your eyes go wide. It takes your fogged mind a damn minute to register what’s happening. Too surprised. When it does, an alarm blares in your mind. 

No. No. Not Jungkook. 

You bring up a hand to push him away by his chest. Or at least try to. Jungkook just grabs that hand and holds it to your side, firmly. Not breaking your kiss. 

No… you can’t do this. This is Jungkook. He’s too precious. You can’t allow a single mistake to ruin things between you. 

Jungkook deepens the kiss. Muffles your weak protests. Bites onto your lower lip. Seek entrance into your mouth but when you don’t give it, he finally breaks apart. 

“Noona, please.” He whines. Pleads. “Just let’s try one time.” Kisses the corner of your mouth. “Please.”

An involuntary shiver runs through your body. 

No, no, no. You shouldn’t even think about this. It’s your Jungkook. 

Then Jimin’s smile flashes across your mind.

You shouldn’t do this at all.

“C’mon baby, let me show you.” Jungkook inches his trail of kisses down toward your neck. Wet and sensual. You can’t help but whimper. Your head starts spinning. Alcohol in your system makes the electricity you’re feeling intensifies. You’re drunk and angry. If you do this, it’s going to be a huge mistake. But it feels good. And you can’t deny how attractive Jungkook is. He is no Jimin but still he’s a godly looking man and you’re just a woman. Besides, a distraction can do you good. A way to release this anger. It’s not like you’re obliged for Jimin, are you? If he can fucking plan on an engagement while you were pathetically waiting for his explanation, then you’re allowed to do anything you want. And Jungkook wants this too. He’s the one asking and begging. 

You allow another beat to pass before you tangle your fingers in his black hair locks. Pull from them to get him facing you. Don’t even let Jungkook comprehend what’s happening as you attack his lips with yours. This time you don’t wait till he seeks entrance. Just push your tongue past his lips without any reluctance from his side. Jungkook groans in appreciation. Starts kissing you like he’s lost his mind. Rough and hard. Like he wants everything from you. Never breaks the intense kiss when he slips his hands past your ass. Toward your thighs. You moan aloud which he swallows when he picks you up from the floor easily. You tangle your legs around his waist. Keep kissing him ignoring your lungs’ protests until he walks both of you toward the couch.

Jungkook drops you into the couch. Bending down with you and still not breaking the kiss. You expect him to push you into your back and get on top of you. Then for much of your dismay, he just breaks the kiss. A trail of saliva connecting your kiss bitten lips. You whine in complaint when he smiles wickedly. But also somehow innocently. Kisses your throat. A shudder ripples through you. 

“Gonna fucking worship you baby.” Kisses your shoulder. “Gonna treat you so well.” Kisses your nipple over your top. Your back arches. 

“Kookie.”

“Treat you so so well.” Kisses your stomach. You tread your fingers in his hair again. Nearly comes on the spot when he goes into his knees. He urges your legs apart by your ankles. Bends them on your knees. Your skirt bunches up around your waist. He places a hard kiss into your pulsing core over your skirt. Rubs your thighs softly before bringing his hands closer toward the waistband of your panties. “Let me, baby.” Looks at you with the most hungriest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. Waits for your approval. You nod almost frantically. “Thankyou.” Jungkook mumbles. Drags your panties down through your legs. 

You moan at the sensation of cool air at your heated core first. Then you moan at the way Jungkook’s eyes darken at the sight of your core. He audibly moans. Fucking moans.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You rasp while you feel a little shy under his scrutinising gaze. 

“Holy shit, indeed. Fuck, Noona.” He averts his eyes from your core to your face. You blush hard. Almost cover your face with your palms when he acts faster than you. Holds into your hands. “Don’t please. You’re so fucking beautiful.” He purrs. Eyes back on your glistening pussy. “And wet. God you’re so wet, pet. Dripping.” Coos. Licks his lips. You buck your hips toward his face. Burning up from lust. 

“Kookie please.” You croak. And Jungkook doesn’t let you suffer at all. Just as the words leave your mouth, you feel his nose nudging at your clit. Then his lips replace his nose. A tender kiss at your pearl. Your toes curl and your head falls back into the headrest. Then he places another kiss. Then another. A kiss after a kiss. Until you lose your mind. Jungkook pulls away after what felt like an eternity. Pauses to admire your core before looking directly in your eyes. Keeps his eyes on yours when he spits onto your clit.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Noona.” You tremble violently. Jungkook rubs his spit into your slit using two fingers. Slowly. Sensually. As if he has all the time in the world. Keeps rubbing over and over again. Making you gasp and moan. “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Stares at your throbbing core as if he’s in a trance. Kisses your clit, yet again.

“Oh, God.” You press his face into your core, impatiently. He doesn’t complain. Just let you rub your aching cunt on his face. You whimper and whine. Which turns into broken moans when Jungkook parts his lips and wraps them around your clit. Starts sucking. Grazes his teeth softly. And you’re melting. So far gone in the pleasure Jungkook is creating between your thighs. 

You just rock your hips mindlessly while Jungkook alters between sucking on your clit and licking your slit. His tongue poking at your entrance. 

“Please, fuck.” You urge him to give you more. Jungkook apparently is an impatient lover. He can’t deny you nor can he control himself. His tongue enters you almost immediately. Fucking your quivering hole with his tongue. Coming up to make out with your clit. “Yes. Yes. Kookie, yes.” You choke out every now then. Lose your mind completely when his fingers replace his tongue soon. He waits for your permission like a good boy before he enters. But as soon as you just nod, he’s fingering you violently like it’s the last day on earth. As if you’re the last girl he’d ever get to finger. It takes a few experimental thrusts for Jungkook to find your sweet spot but he does rather quickly. 

“Tastes so sweet, pet. God, you taste so sweet. Want your cum, hm. Want to eat your cum.” Jungkook mumbles against your slippery core. Like a mad man. And he looks so beautiful. Covered in your slick and eyes peering at you. “Cum on my tongue baby, please.” Pleads for no reason. You just nod. Fingers pulling from his hair. Hips keep rocking against his face. And his fingers relentlessly stroking that spot. Making your high goes higher and higher. Until there’s no place to go and it explodes. Explodes with you moaning inhumanly and almost ripping Jungkook’s hair away. With you screaming his name and Jungkook nearly crying as he starts to ravish on your cunt. He keeps doing that till it starts to hurt you. Until you start to push his face away. 

He gives you one last sloppy lick. From your hole to your clit. Pulls his fingers out and cleans them as well. You just watch him in awe. Chest heaving. Expecting him to get to his feet and continue but he just lowers your legs. Smiles softly. “You okay?” Asks from you. You on the other hand are gaping at Jungkook like you’ve never seen him before. 

He doesn’t want to continue?

“Kookie, what are you? You’re not going to?” You question. Confused. Jungkook grins. In adoration. 

“No. It’s fine. Wanted you to feel good.” Stands up. 

Hell, no. What you did was wrong. So, wrong. But to think that Jungkook doesn’t even receive anything in return makes you feel nauseous. Like you’ve used him. No. You don’t want that. You stumble into your feet immediately. Get Jungkook by surprise when you kneel in front of him in such a hurry.

“No-noona?” He stutters. You bunch up your fists in his pants. 

“Sit down Jungkook. You’re not getting away that easily.”

“No. You don’t have to-”

“I know, I just want to. Please.” You bat your eyelashes. Places a kiss on his visible bulge. “I want to suck your cock Kookie. Want to taste you.” Jungkook curses aloud. “Fuck!” He has a weak self control, after all.

…………………..

Jungkook really believes that he’s about to die from the pleasure. That’s how good this feels. Your pretty lips are wrapped around his cock. Your teary eyes looking up at him. You, down on your knees for him. Worshipping his cock. Drooling and choking on his cock. His. It feels like a dream. 

“Fuck, Noona.” He uses your hair to push you further into his cock. Hitting your throat. You gag. Close your eyes. Jungkook nearly bust a nut right there. He has to look away from you to prevent that from happening. “Oh, baby fuck.” He moans aloud. You’ve given him the permission to fuck your throat. But still, Jungkook is afraid of hurting you. You look like you’re enjoying this to the fullest, though. You moan around his cock right at the clue. “Yeah? You like this, pet?” Jungkook asks. You nod around him in answer. Oh, how delectable you look. How pliable and the things he wants to do to you. Can’t afford to scare you away, however. Jungkook bites back his questionable thoughts away to buck his hips into your mouth.

You gag again which soon turns into another moan. You’re a complete mess. Mascara running down your cheeks and makeup ruined. And the thought that he’s the one who made you that way gets Jungkook drunk without alcohol. Tears roll down your cheeks uncontrollably just like your spit drool down his cock. Making it slippery and messy. Complete, utter mess. But the most beautiful mess he’s ever seen, undoubtedly. Jungkook pushes your head down and keeps you there for a second before letting you go. You swirl your tongue around his tip when you come up. Then you’re pushing his cock back again into your throat. 

“Oh, god you’re so good at this. You’re taking my cock so well baby. Keep going.” Jungkook lets you take the pace. Doing it in your own way and pleasuring him to a point of blacking out. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about anything beyond this moment. But for a fact, he knows that you’re currently ruining him for any other girl. He’d never be able to receive this kind of pleasure again. And just as he thinks this is the best and worst it can get you start shuffling. Jungkook watches in confusion when you adjust yourself in a way that you can straddle his leg. Your knees on either side of his leg and you lower yourself down. 

“Holy fuck no. God, Noona. I’m-” Jungkook fists your hair hard and violently starts to thrust into your mouth just as you start to rub your cunt on his leg. He’s definitely going to die today. Your moans reverberate through his entire body, starting from his throbbing cock. “You’re such a pretty slut Noona. So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook bends down to move your skirt away. So, your cunt can rub directly onto his leg over his pants. He wishes he could just remove that too. But is too greedy to take his cock out from the warm confines of your mouth. 

“Yeah, like that baby. Keep going. Rub your sweet cunt on my leg. Cum again for me.” So, he just encourages you while keep fucking your mouth. Over and over again. Using your pretty face he’s been dreaming of kissing for months. Letting himself fall into an endless pit of pleasure. His groans and your moans fill his otherwise quiet apartment together with your occasional gags and slurping sounds. Adding more fire to his desire. And just at the moment when your movements lose their rhythm and you come into a tense halt. Cumming all over his leg and crying out, Jungkook lost it too. He swears that he wanted to ask you if you wanted him to cum down your throat but it’s already too late. He shoots ropes after ropes of his cum into your throat. But you don’t seem to mind. 

“Oh fuck Noona. Take that, yes.” He keeps you that way until his high rides down. “Good  pet, yeah. Ahh.. You’re so good to me.” Until he has nothing to give you more. That’s when he lets you go. His softening cock slips from your mouth as you heave for air. Wipe your chin with the back of your hand. 

It takes Jungkook another minute to come into his senses. You are still on your knees and straddling his leg. He lowers his gaze to you. Takes in your ruined appearance. This time, though, instead of a new spark of fire, he feels a pang in his chest.

Holy fuck! What has he done?

Jungkook’s heart beat starts to slow down. Weight of his action weighs heavy down his shoulders. 

He just made you suck his cock. He made you do that when you were vulnerable and hurt. Angry and drunk. He let his primal instinct get over him and used you. Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully. You make it worsen when you peer at him with innocent wide eyes. 

Oh, no.

Jungkook works in autopilot mode when he bends down. Pulls you into your feet and then into his lap. You straddle him immediately. Your eyes are glistening. He can’t really read your expression. But he thinks you look sad. Broken. Hurt. Guilty. Jungkook completely ignores the fact that you both are still very half naked when he crushes you with a tight hug. You hide your face in his neck. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You breathe out at the same time as he does. He freezes for a moment. Then it hits him. You’re apologizing for the same reason as he is. Even though you don’t have to. You never used him. It’s the other way around. But here you are. Jungkook presses you into his chest even tighter. Not being able to get enough of you. Not knowing how to fix anything.

“I’m so sorry, Noona.” He whispers in your ear when you hug him back with the same kind of fervour. 

“Me too Kookie. I’m so sorry.” You pull away to peer at his face. “This won’t change anything right? You’d stay the same. Don’t want to lo-lose y-uou.” Jungkook’s heart physically hurts  at the way your voice cracks. He hugs you back. Oh, how broken you look. Why would you ever think he’d change? 

“Of course no, Noona. Nothing’s changed. I’m just your Kookie you always knew.” Even his voice sounds distant to him. But he can feel you nodding into his neck.

“Thankyou.”

………………………

You feel sick. You’ve felt this way ever since your shenanigans with Jungkook. It’s not that you despise Jungkook or anything. Quite the opposite to tell the truth. It’s just the fact that you’ve crossed a boundary you shouldn’t have. The fact that you could’ve easily ruined everything. And then there is the guilt. Guilt toward Jungkook. When you used him as your stress releaser. No matter how many times Jungkook would tell you that’s not the case and he’s at fault, you can’t shake off the guilt. And the guilt toward Jimin. You know very well that, despite Jimin’s jealousy and his words, you hold no obligation to stay faithful to him. He’s getting engaged for fucks sake. But yet you can’t help but feel sick. Can’t wipe off his beautiful smile from your mind. And the way that smile would falter if he knew what happened. 

You feel like a cheap whore. 

Funny, since you’ve always done worse. With Jimin. But you can put everything aside. Yet not the feeling that you betrayed Jimin. 

You tried your best to make up your mind. To convince yourself that you’re not wrong and are allowed to do anything you want. It isn’t working, however. Not even after a day. You’ve had a very restless night after you went to sleep that night. After what happened with Jungkook. Then you had the worst day possible yesterday. Even got scolded from your favourite lecturer and of course, Chan. You were too caught up in your mind. Not being able to get rid of the guilty feeling, no matter how hard you try. And you’ve come to a decision last night. 

You have to come clean. 

You need to meet Jimin and tell him what happened. You know you don’t have to. That Jimin doesn’t deserve to know. But you need to do that. Otherwise these emotions would eat you up. 

Hence the reason why you’re not standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment right now. Instead, you’re standing in front of a once very familiar lavish apartment building. You don’t even know what you’re about to do. Hell, you don’t even have an idea whether Jimin is home or not. Or if Liya is there or not. All you know is that you want to come clean. You’ve just given into your impulse and had only sent a text to Jungkook saying you’d be late. 

Maybe you should check with Jimin. But something makes you hesitant.

So, you just walk inside the lobby. You don’t want permission. Know the password already. Have been here multiple times now. Yet it feels like your first time as you wait patiently inside the elevator. Are trembling like a leaf while you walk across the familiar hallway toward Jimin’s apartment. Your heart beats in your throat when you knock on his door. 

Maybe this is a mistake. You shouldn’t have come. 

Maybe you should turn-

You hold your breath when the door opens suddenly. You exhale that breath when you see it’s the exact person you wanted to see. 

Jimin.

He genuinely looks surprised. Eyes wide. And glinting. A small smile spreads across his lips as well. 

“Spring Roll?” 

He gaps softly. Yet beside his glinting eyes, he looks even worse than the last time you saw him. Lips dry and blackness under his eyes. Nose a little red and hair tousled. Is in his work attire- minus the coat, but doesn’t look like the handsome CEO that he is. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s sick. “This- uh-” He stutters a bit. Nervously. Almost like a boy meeting his crush for the first time. In another context you would’ve swoon to see that. Not now though. The nerves are eating you up to be able to feel any butterflies. The prospect of what to come next makes you sweat like a pig. 

Jimin, who’s very oblivious to your inner turmoil, opens the door wide for you. Still stuttering. “I'm a bit surprised. I mean you came- wait? You’re okay right? Nothing’s wrong?” Waits for you to answer. When you don’t he continues. Clasps his hands. “Listen baby, I know I’m always fucking up and all but I swear-”

“Jimin.” You stop his rambling. You don’t even know what he’s talking about. For a moment Jimin looks like he doesn’t want to listen to you. Looks like he’s about to plead and beg. Then probably at the sight of your paled face, he closes his mouth. Brows furrowing. 

“What? What happened, baby? You’re okay, right?” 

Oh, you feel like you’re about to faint. 

“I- I….” Now you’re here, you have no idea what you should say. 

Hi Jimin, Jungkook and I gave each other oral and now I feel like a slut. Just wanted to let you know. 

Oh, how stupid you are. Why did you ever decide to come here this way?

“What is it, Spring Roll? You’re fucking making me worried.” Jimin takes a firm step toward you. His face is stony and concerned.

Okay, okay you got this. Just rip the bandaid off.

“Jungkook and I.. uh- I mean we…” You trail off again. Not knowing what to say. “We- it just happened but- uh-” Try again. Fail. But then Jimin’s stony face falls for a split second. A realization dawns upon him as you watch. You stand there like an idiot, feeling nervous when his eyes darken dangerously. There’s no need to explain everything. Of course, he picked up the pieces and connected them. His expression morphs into something predatory.

“You did what?” Yet when Jimin questions, his voice is calm. Too calm for your likings. Icy rage. 

You shouldn’t have come. 

“I- we- it just happened-”

“What the fuck did you do, Lil. Did you fuck?” Jimin shoves his hands in his pockets. His calm exterior breaking down. Your knees buckle under his icy gaze. 

“No.. No..”

“Then what?”

You gulp harshly. Soothing your parched throat. This is fucking ridiculous. Why would you be so nervous talking to Jimin as if he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like you actually did something wrong. You should leave. 

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have come here.” You ramble. Almost ready to turn around and run away when Jimin grabs your forearm. It all happens so fast for you to comprehend. The way he drags you inside. The way he closed the door behind. The way you’re trapped between him and the door. 

“Well, you fucking did Spring Roll. And now you can’t just throw a bomb at me and walk away.” Jimin doesn’t touch you. Just keep you caged between the door and his body. “Tell me what the hell you did.” You just blankly stare at him. Previous nervousness you felt replacing with familiar anger. True that you came here to come clean and all but you don’t like the way he talks to you right now. And he makes it worse with his next words. “You wanted to do something to be even. Revenge. Because of what happened at Tae’s. Is that why? You wanted to make me jealous and you decided to go and fuck someone else?” Oh, your vision is turning red. “Guess what, princess, it’s fucking working. I’m burning from jealousy right now. I can kill that bastard. You. Win.”

“Oh, for fucks sake Jimin. Do I look like I want to do that?” You finally manage to talk back normally. Rage makes your nervousness disappear.

“Then what the fuck do you want? You came here to let me know after all?”

“So, you’d rather prefer I kept it a secret? Like you always do with everything. I fucking came because I feel oh so fucking guilty, Jimin. Like I’ve done something bad to you. I didn’t mean it to happen. I was mad, hurt, and fucking drunk. So was he. But I couldn’t shake off the guilt and I wanted to talk to you. Wan- wanted-” Your voice cracks making you stop rambling for a second. You breathe out before starting again. This time slowly. “Wanted to apologize. I’m not the one-”

That’s all you get to say when your words get muffled suddenly by Jimin’s lips. So sudden that you gasp loudly in surprise. He crushes his lips against yours without any warning. Starts to devour you right away. Takes advantage of the gasp you left out and enters his tongue inside your mouth immediately. Tangling with yours. Bites on your lips and sucks on your tongue. Hard. Swallows all your moans and squeezes your ass. You do what your instincts ask you to do. Wrap your hands around his neck and deepen the kiss. This is not how you should do this. But you can’t worry. There’s no use trying to fight it anymore. Jimin is your drug and you’ll always get addicted just with a simple touch. 

Jimin keeps kissing you until you’re both breathless and panting. Pulls away right when you both can’t do it anymore. 

“Fuck you, Lil.” He groans. Pants.

“Fuck you, too Park. You fucking ass-” 

He kisses you again. Doesn’t let you finish your insult. Unfortunate how you don’t try to push him away. Instead you’re bringing him even closer. Grinding against him. 

“You sure you want this?” Jimin withdraws just enough to ask you that. You nod without a beat. “Yeah? Cause, I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Lil. No one’s touching what’s mine. I told you that you’re mine.” Asks again. And his words make your blood liquid fire. You’re blazing. 

“I’m positive. Whatever you want.” You peck his lips. Jimin takes a minute and then nods. Withdraws completely just to grab your wrist. And is walking inside his apartment while dragging you with him. You just let him do what he wants. Excitement bubbles inside you. You can feel your heart beating in your ears and your core throbs in anticipation. You missed Jimin. 

Jimin stops in the middle of his living room. You take a quick glance around you. It looks the same. The couch. The coffee table. The book rack. And floor to ceiling windows. Leaking bright morning sunlight inside since the curtains are drawn open. You look at Jimin confusedly when he motions you to walk forward. Until you’re standing before one of the windows. You turn to look at him. Questioning with your eyes. Jimin holds both of your hands in his. Gently. A stark contrast to how sinister he looks. 

“We need a safe word.” Mutters. 

“Huh?” Your eyes widen. This is new. Jimin has always tried new things with you. Hell, he has made you cry during sex. And of course, was rough. But you never wanted a safe word. His words reverberated through your body. Making your clit throb. 

“A safe word Lil. I don’t want to do anything you don’t like.” 

You inhale a shaky breath. Take a minute. Then nod. “Yeah, fine. Um.. red.” State. It’s the first thing that comes to your mind. Can anyone blame you for not being damn creative when your panties are getting drenched and your clit is throbbing for any attention?

“Red, it is. Say the word and I’m gonna stop.” Jimin’s lips hover above you. You nod and wait patiently till he kisses you again. Only to be disappointed when he pulls away. Smirking.

Oh, this is going to be intense.

You watch in anticipation when Jimin takes a few steps back. You don’t dare to move or ask anything. Just clenching around nothing and rubbing your thighs together. An agonizingly slow beat passes in silence. You can hear your heart beat and the roar in your ears. Then Jimin just casually drops down into one of the arm chairs. Facing you directly. Relaxes. 

“Strip.” Then his lowered voice echoes through the apartment. Such a simple and clear command. No complexities or confusion. Yet, here you are gaping at him with an open mouth. 

What did he say? 

“Don’t make me repeat Lil. Fucking strip.” Jimin repeats calmly. 

Oh okay.

You turn around partially to look at the window behind you. You’re pretty high on the building. There’s not many other buildings reaching up to a similar height but there's one. Right across from Jimin’s apartment building. And you can clearly see inside the apartment on the same level. That means if someone is there and if they looked your way they would see you. A shiver ripples through your body. Jimin picks up on your hesitation. “Don’t care Lil. Just strip.” His dangerous rumble makes you turn your attention back to him. His predatory gaze is burning your skin.

You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. You know it. You even have a word now. Jimin’s not going to push you if you really don’t like something. But who are you kidding? You know that you won’t use the word. He knows that you won’t use it. You both know you’d just do as he says. And that’s exactly what you do. Doing as he demands. Getting rid of your clothes one by one. Until you’re bared down into your underwear. “Those too.” Jimin just casually coaches you. You relent. In a second, you’re standing completely naked in front of his eyes. Morning sun rays make your naked skin warm behind you. It’s warm but you’re trembling with excitement. Rubbing your thighs uncontrollably.

Jimin gaps. Groans. Bites down on his bottom lip. For a moment it looks like his control has slipped. Then he takes it back. 

“Tease your nipples.” Instructs. You bring your both hands hesitantly toward your already hardened pebbles. Start doing as he says. Twirling your fingers over them and pinching. “Fuck, you look beautiful slut. But you let someone else see that?” You want to tell him that’s not exactly what happened. And that he’s currently risking letting the same thing happen with a stranger. You don’t, however. Are too turned on to be able to talk, let alone argue. So, you just keep teasing your nipples. A moan slips through your mouth. 

“Squeeze your tits.” Jimin coaches again. You jump into action. Stop playing with your nipples and start massaging your soft mounds. Until Jimin finds it’s enough. 

“That’s enough. Touch your clit, baby.” 

You comply with his demands rather fast. Feel a little bit mortified. The whole situation is embarrassing. The window. The fact that Jimin is still very much clothed and you’re stark naked. The fact that you’re putting on a show for him. All of that is embarrassing. Humiliating. But also arousing. Your slickness is dripping down your thighs. And the moment your fingertips touch your bundle of nerves, your legs almost give up. 

“Jimin.” You whimper as you start to rub figure eights on your throbbing clit.

“Ugh, fuck.” Jimin groans. Stars rubbing his bulge over his pants. “You like this, slut? Like being put on display?” You just nod. Frantically picking up the speed you’re working on yourself. Bringing yourself embarrassingly close to an orgasm. This turns you on into no end that your head is spinning. Just few more flicks and-

“Stop.” Jimin grunts. You slow down your fingers reluctantly. Whining and whimpering. Stop your movements altogether. Jimin lets a few seconds pass. “Again. Touch again.” Demands again. The fire inside you swallows you whole. It’s becoming a struggle to stay on your feets. Yet you relent and start rubbing again. Starting slow and doubling up your efforts. Making the coil inside your stomach tightens again. 

“Stop.” 

You bend down to stop yourself from cumming as you stop your movements. Tears start to prick your eyes. Another minute. Another command. “Again.” Your fingers move around your clit again. “And keep your eyes on me.” He adds. You comply with him, yet again. Rub your clit slowly as you watch the way Jimin rubs his cock over his pants. 

Oh, this is so good.

“Stop.” 

You do. 

“Start again, Lil.” 

You do. 

“How are you feeling princess, good? Is your clit throbbing? Yeah? You wanna cum?” Taunting and teasing. 

“Wanna cum Jimin, please.” And you're begging. Tears are finally starting to roll down your cheeks. 

“No. Stop.”

“Oh, please.”

“Fucking stop you little whore.”

So, you do it again. And then it goes on and on. Over and over. An endless circle of torture. Until your legs really give up and your knees almost hit the floor. That’s only when Jimin finally stops it. Finally gets to his feet and walks to you leisurely. While you struggle to be on your feet and keep your eyes away from his bulge. Trying so hard not to salivate at the sight. 

Jimin cups your heated cheeks. Brings his mouth closer to your ear. “You good, baby?” Whispers making tingles run across your whole body. You know he’s asking for real. Genuinely want to know if you’re okay. 

“Yes.” You exhale. Clutching his dress shirt desperately. “Please.” Begs. You feel like dying from the throbbing pain between your legs. You just need something. You’re aching for a little touch from him. And so you’re positive that you’ll come undone the second he touches you. He doesn’t, however. At least doesn’t touch you where you want him to. Just turns you around you by your shoulders. Guides you toward the window. Pushes your body into it, making your hard and perky nipples grazing the window. You bring your hands to place on the not so cold glass on instinct. Balancing yourself. Your back is arching and searching for any kind of friction.  

Jimin’s lips hover again in your ear. “What do you want, princess? Use your words.” Teases. You shudder. But you’ve played this game enough times before to know that Jimin won’t give you anything unless you ask him to. And after all those times you’re not so shy anymore.  “You. Need you Jimin. Please, I need you.” You cry out. Desperately. Like the needy slut you are right now. Jimin only chuckles, though. Low. So low that you moan at the sound. 

“Yeah? Now you want me? I thought you didn't, baby.”

“Oh, Jimin please.” This time you cry out in impatience. He’s being difficult. Childish. “Am I wrong? You have people to please you. Why would you need me? Thought you have Jungkook now.” Almost pulls away when you finally snap. 

“I didn’t- fuck- it was a damn mistake and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it to happen.” You turn your head to look at him. He pulls away, anyway. You miss his warmth right away. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re sorry.” Jimin takes another step away from you. You’re losing your mind. 

“I am, I- oh god fuck Jimin. I’m sorry.” You barely get to finish that when his palm suddenly hits your core. A choked moan elicits from your parched throat. “Oh, god yes.” 

“Yeah? Are you sorry?” His palm hits your cunt again. You cry out  a ‘yes’. “Yeah?” Another time. Harder than before and you moan even louder. Pleasurable sting causing you to see stars. You will cum and embarrass yourself if he keeps doing that. But of course, he keeps doing that. “Then show me how sorry you are, slut.” Another slap. And you have no idea how to do as he says. Are about ask how when he gives you the answer soon. You swear that you didn’t even hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. Jimin enters you without any prior warning and catches you completely off guard. The cry you let out is inhuman. Due to pleasure. You’re slick enough that it doesn’t hurt. Just a tiny burn which subsides immediately. Jimin’s rock hard cock glides against your slick warm walls quite easily. 

“Holy fuck, so wet. You’re so fucking wet.” Jimin groans. “And so tight. Feels so good, slut. Do you know how good your cunt feels?” Finally touches you properly. Snakes his hands around your body to cup your breasts. Starts pounding into you without any further ado. No waiting, no adjustments. Opts on a bruising primal pace. “Show me you’re fucking sorry Lil. Take my cock like a good slut, hm?” Your body presses against the glass with his every animalistic thrust. Your loud moans and sobs fill the entire apartment. “You can’t expect me to just be all cool after you let someone else see this damn body, princess.” Pinches your nipples so hard. “You’re mine.” Fucks you even harder. “Told you always that you're mine.” Gives your neck a fleeting kiss. Then another. Soon it turns into a harsh suckings on your sensitive skin. Covering you with purple blossoms all over. 

Every thrust. Every kiss. Every nibble. Every bite. Every rub brings you closer to your release faster than a flash. Yet just as you’re about to fall over, Jimin stops. Of course, he does. You find yourself even incapable of protesting. So far gone inside your head. So drunk on Park Jimin. 

“On the couch, c’mon.” He commands, yet again. Pulls his hard cock out from you. You follow, yet again. Force your shaky legs to take you to the couch. Lay down with your legs spread apart. Watch with a hazy sight as Jimin at last gets rid of his clothes. Showing you his sculpted body. The kind of body that only he has. You wait impatiently till he joins you on the couch. Pumping his cock hard. This time he doesn’t waste any time. Just bends you in half and puts your legs over his shoulders before entering you again roughly. Then is pounding into your spasming hole again. Over and over. His dick head hitting all the right spots. 

“What should we do about this baby?” Jimin questions breathlessly in between his deep plunging. “About people not understating that you-fuck- you’re mine, hm?” Brings one hand to touch your neck. Drags his fingers over the purple marks he left there. 

“Jimin… oh god, I-I… please..” All you can do is pathetically moan. Jimin ignores whatever you’re trying to say. 

“You know, I’ve always covered you in hickies. And he always saw them, didn’t he? What is that? Fucker can’t pickup a sign? Can’t understand that you’re mine.” Jimin squeezes your cheeks. Presses a hard kiss into your pouting lip. Gives a hard thrust and stops moving. Making himself buried deep inside you. Grinds his hips making you wail. “What should we do baby? Tell me?” Straightens back and falls back into his hard pounding. So hard that the couch skids across the floor with a squeaking sound. You watch how hard his jaw is locked. How flushed his face is. How dark his eyes are. Your throat is turning sore at how loud you’re moaning. Jimin is killing you. In a good way. And you think this is the worst he can do. How wrong you are. 

“Should I get you fucking pregnant? Get you full and round of me so everyone-”

Jimin doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Just because you drown his voice with your screaming. Back arching and cumming right there at his words. Embarrassing. But you can’t care. Not when his words make you feel consumed by a heat that you can’t satiate. You don’t want to get pregnant. Of course, not. You’re still so young and there’s a lifetime ahead. You haven’t even thought about children. But the way his words make you feel should be illegal. It’s not possible to get this aroused right? Yet, here you are. Screaming his name and trembling. 

“Fucking hell, Lil. Oh god, woman you’re gonna fucking kill me.” Jimin slows down his hips a notch just to pick back up the speed and keep fucking you hard. Fucking you through your orgasm. Not even slowing down when it starts to hurt from the over sensitivity. “You want that? You want to fucking get pregnant? Want me to fuck a baby in to you?” Questions. You don’t answer. Completely because you can’t properly understand what he’s talking about. Then Jimin never appreciated your silence, did he? He takes his hand to your clit. Doesn’t stop his thrusts when suddenly pinches your clit hard. Hard enough for another unexpected orgasm to ripple through you. Making Jimin laugh and groan at the same time. “Shit! You little slut.” Mutters. Slaps your sensitive clit again. “Answer me baby? Do you like it?” Slaps your thigh this time while keep fucking you hard. “Either you gonna answer me or-”

“Yes, yes-” You don’t want to know what he’ll do. This is enough torture already. “I want it, Jimin. P-please…. W-want you to get me so full- ugh fuck- so full of you. I want it please.” You sob. Can feel Jimin twitch inside you. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes please. G-get me pregnant?”

“Hell yeah, so everyone would know you’re mine, right baby? Tell me who you belong to? Who’s fucking cunt is this?” 

“Yours. I’m yours.” 

Jimin groans. “Fuck, yes. Mine.” Leans forward again. Looks you dead in the eye. You watch in anticipation. Knowing he needs more. Something more. You have no idea what that is but you nod in agreement anyway. You trust him with all your might. Besides, you have a safe word you can use any time. “Open your mouth.” Jimin commands. His mouth is just mere millimeters apart from your lips. And like that you understand what he wants even before he says anything. You like it. Of course, you do. That’s the exact reason why you’re clenching around his hard cock like you’ve gone mad. You do as he says without any other questions. Too fucked up and too horny. Keep your mouth open and wait for his next step. Jimin takes another cautious look at your face. For any sign of discomfort. When he finds none, he does it. Spits into your mouth. 

You cry pathetically. Tears rolling down. Your cunt feels like it's on fire. “Swallow.” Jimin barks. You comply like a good pet. Make Jimin moans like a beautiful symphony. “Fuck, again. Lil again baby, open your mouth.” You do. He does it again. You can tell he’s close. Too close. Is losing the precision in his movements. Yet demands you do it again. “Again princess, one more time.” And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart for a third time. Just as he spits on your mouth again. 

And like a chain reaction, that’s all it takes for Jimin as well. He falls forward. Captures your lips in a searing kiss as he stills his hips. Cuming deep inside you. Making you cum again one more time. Nails digging into Jimin’s back and your legs locking him in place. Allowing him to shoot his cum into your womb. 

You wait there until you both can’t breathe. Kissing each other like it’s the last time you’ll get to kiss. Until your high calms down. That’s only when Jimin finally withdraws from you. Eyes frantically going over your tired and spent features. 

You close your eyes. Feeling your head spin. Feeling hard to breathe. Your ears still roar and your heart beats a mile a minute. Cunt still on fire and throbbing painfully. You bring your forearm to cover your face. Allowing yourself to fall into exhaustion. Basking in the euphoric sensation. Finding solace in the darkness enveloping you. Peaceful, blissful dark-

“Lil? Holy fuck, baby. Hey? Are you with me?” 

You open your eyes at the sensation of Jimin’s hands cradling your cheeks. Oh, so soft and gentle. His voice sounds like it's coming from another dimension. You catch the sight of his worried expression. 

“Huh?” You mumble weakly. 

“Are you okay, love? Did I- did I hurt you?” 

Your heart flutters violently. The rest of his question doesn’t reach you. Your ears stop listening after the word ‘love’. 

Oh no… he didn’t.

You feel like crying. But that doesn’t mean anything. Of course,not. He’s just concerned and is a sweet person. That’s it. That doesn’t mean anything. You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. So, you just shake your head to tell him that he didn’t hurt you. 

“I- I’m fine. Jimin- I- I’m so sorry-” He doesn’t let you finish. Pulls your weak and spent body into his arms immediately. Starts pressing tender kisses into your hair as you hide your face in his neck. Inhaling his familiar smell. 

“Hey, I know. I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it and it’s okay. Sorry I was a jealous jerk. But it’s okay, alright?” Pulls away to look at your face. You gape at him. 

Really?

“You won’t mind?” Ask timidly. 

“Course I do mind. Hell, lady.. next time I’m gonna murder that bastard if he so much as lays a finger on you. You’re mine. I just- uh- I know it’s a mistake. I know you didn’t mean and I just wanted to claim back what’s mine.” Presses a soft kiss to your lips. You feel relief wash over you. Finally feels relaxed. All the weight on your chest evaporating. Oh, how Jimin has become your solace. Your safe place. You smile into his kiss. 

“Thank You.”

“No, thank you for coming here. Thankyou for not just asking me to fuck off after everything. Thank you for letting me know.”

You pull away. Fall back onto the couch. This is the time. You need to get this done.

“Well, you promised me an explanation, Park.” Jimin chuckles. Starts fumbling around. Lays down next to you. Manhandling you on top of him. Holds you tight. 

“You got it. Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. Had to make sure Liya’s father doesn’t lose his shit after seeing that video.” 

………………………..

You have no idea how long it has been since you’ve been just cuddling on a couch and listening to Jimin’s story. Naked. About how Mr. Kim has a partial ownership of the company as the biggest shareholder. How four of them- even with combining all their shares- don’t have enough to fight him. Now you understand why they call Liya’s father mighty Kim. And how Jimin can’t risk him pulling out from the company which will create a destabilising power. How he would lose his damn position and the company- the dream- he and his friends worked so hard for. 

You don’t know how hard boys worked for the company.

All of a sudden, Liya’s words make so much sense to you. 

And Jimin told you about the upcoming launch. The fact that Kim is the main sponsor. And everything falls back into one position. If he breaks up with Liya, she’d take revenge. Mr Kim would just say bye to RUN and sell or transfer his shares to an external party. If that happens Jimin is fucked up. 

“And you can’t do anything about it?” You snuggle against his chest. It’s just not a question but also a statement. 

“Not unless we find a way to get him to sell his shares to us before anything happens. Or we find another sponsor who can fund us. That’s not easy. Especially with the fact that Kim rules this world. No one would ever want to be on his bad side.” Jimin rakes his fingers through your hair softly. 

“So, what’s your plan then? You said you need time.”

“Do one of those things. I’m on the hunt for a new sponsor. And I’m looking for a way to get him to sell his shares without offending him. Or any other loophole I can find to use against him. Everyone has their dirty shits. I should’ve already maintained an account for him. With all the blackmail materials. I was just stupid that I didn’t do that. Now I have to dig from the surface till I reach deep enough.” 

You understand it. Makes you wonder why he hadn’t told you earlier. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me earlier?” You question in genuine confusion. Raise your head to find him turning red. He groans.

“I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed of what?”

“Of you finding out that I’m such a loser.”

“What?” You almost get away from him completely in disbelief when he pulls you back on to him. So, you just opt to keep your head up and stare at him. 

“Oh c’mon, Lil, you look at me like I'm some kind of God. A man who has everything. Someone who accomplished every goal. I mean you have a nasty mouth and you’ll always talk me down but I see the way you look at me.” Jimin sighs heavily. You feel your heart swell. You didn’t know that mattered to him. “You know even though I kind of have everything, I just can’t shake off the fucking feeling that I don’t deserve it. That I.. uh.. Got it with the help of someone-”

“Help of someone?” You interrupt him. Jimin nods. 

“Yeah. I-um- this makes it fucking worse, like when we started we really didn’t have the budget to start developing a game. Just four boys fresh out of college. Just dreams and ideas. We had the talent, knowledge and all but not the money. We could’ve made it either way. Starting slow and making it from scratch but I had Liya. The queen bee. Daughter of the Kim and she didn’t want to date a man struggling to build something up.” He laughs softly. 

“Besides, why would we bother when she can help us? It was nothing on her part. At first I didn’t want to do that but it sounded too compelling- tempting. All I wanted was to start something. For my idea to be out in the world and eventually I accepted. I built my empire with Kim’s money.” Jimin holds you so tight against him. As if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if not. “I didn’t want you to see me as that person. You made me feel like that I’ve actually made it by myself and that I deserve it. I know it’s stupid but I liked the way you treated me. So,” He touches your cheek. “Do you think I’m a loser? I’m an asshole and we both know it but I didn’t want to use Liya. But that’s what’s apparently happened, so, do you wish you never had started anything with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You would really hit him if he doesn’t have such a tight grip on you. 

“Really, Park?” You raise a brow. “That- that’s, oh gosh no. Why would you even think that way? It really is such a stupid reason.” You sigh heavily. Softening at his expression. “You didn’t use anyone Jimin. She’s the one offered. And you were already dating her. Not the other way around. You saw the opportunity and you took it. And it was just money they offered. Rest was on you. I’d always see you as the same way Mr. CEO. You’re a man who accomplished a lot on your own and you deserve it all. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I admire you a lot.” You hide your face instantly. “Now if you ever bring it out again… I’ll just-”

Jimin’s laugh cut you off. “Okay. But are you serious like, you don’t think that-”

“No, Park. Stop it.” You raise your head back again to kiss him shut. Pull away. “Why the sudden engagement, tho?” Not that you want to ruin the mood but you have to ask. 

“The video. We got rid of everything before it reaches the public but there are some higher profiles who've seen it. Not that anyone recognizes you but they’re questioning. And there were some people in the club that day, kids of those rich assholes. People are apparently talking and it’s not good on anyone’s reputation. Especially Kim's. I don’t know if you know this but Liya is not his blood-”

“I do. I just happened to know.”

“Okay. So, he’s doing his utmost best to keep everything under the carpet and to keep his image spotless. He doesn’t want any rumors around his daughter. The sole heir to the Kim’s group. If one thing comes to the surface, it’s only a matter of time until everything does. If anyone ever finds out that shit, that’s not going to go well with his businesses. So, he wants the rumors to stop fast. And they think an engagement would solve the problem before it gets bigger.”

You feel a clench in your heart. Yet just nod. Jimin’s the one who kisses you this time. “I’m not doing that. I’ll come up with something. I mean I don’t know what yet but I’ll not get engaged to Liya. This is not the eighteenth century and they can’t force things on me.”

“But what if they threatened to pull out?”

“They won’t. I’m really not going to use the fact that Liya is not his real daughter. That’s such a low blow. Liya and I- we have history and they’ve helped me somehow. But still I’m gonna use that to make the engagement delayed if needed. I know that’s such a shitty thing to do but I refuse to become a puppet.” 

“Okay. This is so fucked up, but thank you for telling me. It feels good to be in the light.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think I’m such a shitty person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole but not shitty. When I say you’re an asshole, I say it affectionately. But Jimin,” He hums in question. “What does Liya get from all this? Is she just worried about the reputation? Like can it cause that much harm? If you broke up with her?”

“It can. People can be nasty. Especially when it comes to famous people. They will take any opportunity to drag someone down.”

“So, it isn’t because she loves you.” 

Jimin scoffs at that. “No. Hell, no. Maybe she loved me back then but not anymore. I don’t even know why she chose me. The college fuck boy. I was a mess and a disaster. I was the trouble but I pulled the queen. I don’t know why she dated me. I loved her, though.” You have to look away to hide the way it makes a tiny pang in your chest. 

“What happened then?” Yet ask nonetheless. 

“I don’t know. All I know is that we’re no longer in love and just trying to use each other. I want to stop that. She doesn’t.”

It makes sense. They are in a convenient relationship. Which is messy and complicated. And you understand Jimin completely. So, you just nod at his next question. Agree completely. 

“So, just give me time, hm? I know it’s hard but uh.. Just a little time. That’s all I want and I promise the moment I figure this shit out, we’re gonna find a way to keep you in my life.”

You don’t question why he wants that. You know that you want to keep going because you like him. Maybe more than that. You’re so whipped. But what’s his reasons? And you don’t think about all the complications that would come up and the things you’d have to sacrifice, if you chose to keep living this way. Or if you decide to stay in this world. If it’s even possible. You’ll have to solve one problem at a time, after all. 

You’ll not question for now.

………………………….

Jimin ends his call with Hoseok right at the moment you enter the study. After showering together he had left you to dry your hair to take care of the hundreds of missed calls he’d received for the past few hours. Hoseok’s was about an art exhibition. A fundraiser. Hoseok wants all of them to attend since it’s the perfect opportunity for networking. They might even be able to land a new deal for a new sponsor. Who knows? And the event is apparently happening in the gallery where Namjoon’s girlfriend works. Even though Jimin doesn’t want to see them right now, he’s no fool to turn down the opportunities. 

“Hey.” You softly mumble as you walk toward him. Just in one of his hoodies and nothing else. You look content. And he loves to see you content. 

“Hey!” Jimin mumbles back to you. Spreads his arms so you can fall right between them. You do. Like you’ve come home. “Everything okay?” Ask him in such an adorable voice that Jimin’s heart does skip a beat, literally. 

“Yep. Hobi is making us attend a fundraiser.” Jimin answers your question. You withdraw from him, nodding in understanding. Don’t ask any more questions as you just drag your eyes across the study. Stop on one of his opened drawers. Jimin follows your vision. His own gaze dropping inside the drawer. Finding out exactly what catches your attention. And it’s too late when he notices that and jumps into action. You let out a shriek before you successfully grab the picture.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim. Amused. While Jimin feels mortified. It’s a picture of him and Taehyung. Back from the college days. First year. Just barely eighteen. He has no idea what the fuck they were doing, dressed up like two lunatics. It was taken during a party for sure. And they both look extremely stupid. 

“Give that back.” Jimin states calmly. You don’t give a fuck after all. Just turn around facing your back to him. 

“How old were you?” You question. Inspecting the picture. Jimin rounds you to look at your glinting eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Oh God, that’s so embarrassing. Give it back, Spring Roll.” 

You ignore him. Just coo at the picture. “You look tiny.”

“No I do not. I had the same body back then. Girls were dying for my abs.”

“Did they? What about your eyeliner, tho?” You quirk brow in challenge. Know what you’re doing. Jimin groans. You giggle prettily. “And it’s blue.” Add as if he doesn’t know it. “Why the hell are you wearing a blue eye liner in here, Park.” 

“C'mere you little gremlin.” Jimin stretches his arm to catch you which you dodge skilfully. Take a few steps back. Jimin doesn’t give up, however. He lunges forward again. You yelp as you try to run away from him. This time you fail. Jimin catches you successfully but you hide the picture behind you. Keep it hidden even when he picks you up and puts you on the table. “Oh c’mon, give it back you idiot. Why would you even need that?” So, he whines. You press your lips into the tip of his nose. There goes his heart skipping beats again. He feels warm. Inside, out. 

“Because you’re so adorable in that. Can I keep it?”

“Why?”

“Just so I can keep it.” You pout. Puppy eyes. Jimin is becoming weak. Oh, he is weak. “Will you promise me not to show it to anyone?” He’d give up eventually anyway. No use of fighting and dragging this up. You nod excitedly. Look so damn beautiful. “Okay, deal. But I need something in return too.” Jimin adds causing your face to fall. He’s a businessman after all. He’s good at deals. 

“What?”

“Let’s keep that spot empty. I’ll come up with something creative in the future.” You grumble but agree anyway. Jimin just smiles and captures your lips in his. He just wants to be close. Every way possible. Can’t help but touch you. You taste good. You feel good. Drives him mad. You pull away first. A soft smile on your lips. 

“Okay, what are you getting at? Haven’t you had enough?”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin feigns ignorance causing you to palm his hardened length through his sweats. A low groan erupts from his throat. 

“I’m talking about this.” You squeeze him. Well, he can’t help it. Can’t have enough. His hips buck into your touches involuntarily. 

“Well, you wanted to get pregnant.” Jimin teases you, reveling in the way you audibly whimper. Just for a second, though. You compose yourself rather fast for his liking. 

“Stop getting obsessed, Park.” You gasp. Tease. Wait till he denies. But then Jimin doesn’t want to deny it. So, he just spreads your legs rough. Finding your bare core already glistening with arousal. You’re the one to talk. He doesn’t point it out, though. Just kisses you again. Pulls away to whisper against your lips. 

“Too late, Spring Roll. I’m already obsessed.” 

Oh, how he loves the way you gasp. The way your breath hitch. And he means his words. Because that’s what he is. Obsessed. With you. Utterly deeply madly obsessed with you. 

“Are you too sore, baby? Can you take me again?” He asks cautiously. You just nod, like he knew you would. 

“Just go slow.” You spread your legs even wider.

“Of course, love.”

Such a shame that he’s focusing on your cunt. 

Such a shame how he doesn’t notice the way you look at him. 

…………………………..

Finally, after weeks of torment, life feels good again. With Jimin. With Jungkook. With your friends in both worlds. You feel relaxed after knowing what makes Jimin, Jimin. You feel valued and important after knowing Jimin trusted you enough to let you in. Sure, there's still no answers to his problems. He’s still a taken man and you're still being the bitch of your own story. Fucking a man in a relationship, despite everything that happened to you. But then, you think there’s hope now. Not that Jimin’s story justifies all your actions. Yet you can hope for a moment that you’d get to do it the right way. 

Even when you don’t get to see Jimin often now, life still feels good. You won’t go back to work at RUN again. No. The biggest favor you can do everyone is keeping your distance. Still, you find solace in his little texts. That’s enough. You’ll find a solution to everything soon. You trust Jimin. 

Then there’s Jungkook. Being the Jungkook you always knew. You’re oh so relieved when he agreed to let what happened slip. Agreed that it happened because both of you were emotional and drunk. He still won't side with Jimin. Never. But he’d be on your side. Forever. His own words. Then you had convinced Key to go on that date with Chan. Everything is going pretty fine. You’re in such a good mood that you’ve been waltzing instead of walking for the past few days. 

Everything is good. You don’t think anything would be able to ruin your good mood at all. Even when you find yourself at the fundraiser Jimin told you about a few days ago. Even when you know Jimin would probably attend this with Liya. You think you’ll be able to handle it. Knowing his story, you know it’s just a pretense. Of course, you can handle it. 

See, life is thriving. You’re back into going to these kinds of special events which a college girl has no business being in. It just happened because of Yoona apparently. It's the gallery she works at. And they are apparently allowed to bring in guests. More guests mean more funds. Yet you know, you’re not the kind of guests they want here. But who’d care in the end. You and Jungkook are here on the extended invitation by Yoona. J is here as the date of Jin. You’re all here to have a good time. Even though you can’t find Jungkook anywhere in your sight at this moment. 

You’re standing at a corner table with Taehyung. All glammed up. Feeling nervous since you’re not used to visiting such events. 

“You know who that is?” Taehyung asks you, pointing at an old man casually talking with Hoseok. You shake your head. “That’s the minister of culture.” He states. You gasp. 

“Yah! Really? Please remind me what the fuck I’m doing here again?”

“Same thing as me honey. Just wasting your time.”

You chuckle at his comment. You spend a lot more time with Taehyung these days. He comes over to Jungkook’s quite often. Saying you’re surprised would be an understatement. Jungkook’s sudden change of behaviour toward Taehyung makes you more than surprised. 

“I thought this is an opportunity for you. Jimin mentioned something about a new sponsor or something.” You look around the hall. To search if the said guy is here. Apparently not yet. Taehyung just clicks his tongue. Retrieves two new champagne flutes from a passerby server. Hands you over one. 

“I’m bad at that. I always get distracted by women.” He sips from his drink before continuing. You scrunch up your nose at that. “That’s why we have Jin and Hobi. Look at them, doing a god damn great job.” Gestures at the said people. You catch J walking toward you at the same time. Pouting. 

“Boring. This shit is boring as hell man.” She whines just as she reaches your table. Steal your champagne flute. You decide not to say anything. 

“Tell us about it. I just want to go home and watch a movie.” Taehyung agrees with his whole heart. You ignore him when you turn to J.

“Where’s Kookie?”

She shrugs. “No idea. I think he’s annoying Yoongi. He really wants to be Yoongi’s editor, you know?” You chuckle at the mental image of Jungkook pestering an annoyed Yoongi. 

“Maybe I should give up this job and start a vlog. What do you, pretty women, think?” Taehyung butts in.

“We think you’d make the perfect cam boy.” J states with a straight face. Nods in confirmation. Now you don’t know what she expects Taehyung’s reaction would be. But you expect it fully when he beams. Excited. A little too much.

“Exactly. I knew I would be. Jimin didn’t let me pursue my dream job.”

“Yah! Seriously?” J quips exasperatedly. 

“Yeah…” Taehyung sighs heavily. “It’s so fucking unfair isn’t it? Everyone should have the right to pursue their dreams.” Sips from his drink again. J gives Taehyung a look that is torn between annoyance and amusement. You don’t think that’s what she asked by ‘seriously’. You snort very unpleasantly at her expression when Taehyung continues. “But if I have been a cam boy, you two ladies would be my biggest fans,” He lets out a dreamy sigh. You and J both roll your eyes. “And of course you’ll pay me tons of money. And I’ll do my best to satisfy you both.” 

“We won’t pay you shit Taehyung. That’s a lot of over-fucking-condifident there. Why would you be so sure about that? Like do you have a monster cock or something?” J scoffs. Wrong move. Taehyung is the last person you should talk about cocks with. Too late, however. He smirks cockily. Wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“I don’t know, do I? Maybe… Wanna see?” 

You fake gag when J clicks her tongue. “No thanks, no monster cock would be able to compete with Jin’s.” J looks away from Taehyung to Jin. You think she’s fascinating to be able to just not give a fuck about what anyone thinks. She’s so bold to admit that she likes Jin. Even though Jin doesn’t do the same. She’s obviously so smitten for the man and does nothing to hide it. 

Taehyung takes great offense in that, it seems. “Yah! That’s so not true.”

“It is true.” 

“Wanna bet?”

“Hell yes. How much?” 

You look back and forth between your two friends. A headache is starting to form. You think Taehyung learnt to put bets on everything from Jungkook. He says something about 20 000 Won. And J agrees. You feel mortified. 

“Gosh guys, will you stop?” You bow in apology to an old man who just walks past you. 

“No. She insulted my precious item and I need justice.”

“Eww don’t call it a precious item.” J counters.

“Why not? It is precious. Now I’m about to show you and prove you wrong.”

“Fucking stop, you guys.” You slap Taehyung’s hand which he just puts on his belt buckle. “Nobody wants to see your fucking dick, Tae.” You hiss. 

“No. No, let him Li. This is my chance to earn an easy 20 000.”

“Oh my god J, don’t fucking encourage him. He’ll do it for real.” You groan in annoyance and mild horror. Knowing Taehyung, you’re eighty percent positive that he’d do that. Taehyung chuckles. Says something about how good you know him when you suddenly catch a flash of blond in the corner of your eye. You stop trying to keep Taehyung’s hands away from his pants to turn around and find the man you wanted to see. 

Park Jimin.

In his iconic black suit. That damn earring back on one of his ears and smiling widely. Bowing to someone older. You feel your lips spread into a huge grin at his sight. He makes small talk with a few people before his eyes scan the room. Land on your corner table. A similar kind of a grin spreading across his own face. And oh, he’s alone. There’s no woman tangled up in his side. You scan the room quickly to find the said woman. Feel giddy when you’re unable to spot her anywhere. Jimin bows to the man he’s talking to and starts stepping toward your table. Almost waves to you when a sudden voice behind you interrupts. 

You think you saw Jimin’s smile suddenly drop and his face darken just before you turn around to see who’s the owner of the voice. 

“There you are, Honey. I was looking for you everywhere. That author is here- Owen someone and I want you to meet him. C’mon.”

You’re met with a middle aged woman. Her words don’t exactly register with you but you take her appearance in one go. And you freeze. 

“Mom?” You whisper in confusion. 

Mother.

This is your mother. The woman who gave birth to you. But looks far younger. All glammed up and in a black dress. Eyes bright. Not a single grey hair on the sight. Skin glowing. 

This is your mother. 

But something’s odd. 

“Yes. Let’s go Liya, before your father can find him.” She mumbles. 

And it hits you like a flash of lightning. You’re not in your world. Your mother can’t be here. This is not your mother. 

Liya. 

A painful pang erupts in your chest. Shoots across your body. Not unbearable but it’s definitely there. 

This is Liya’s mother and she just mistook you for her child. You open your mouth stupidly but before you can say anything Taehyung steps in.

“Hey, this is ridiculous. I mean it's one thing when other people can’t tell them apart but their own mother? That’s such a rude thing to do to your own daughter Mrs. Kim.” 

You turn your head slowly toward Taehyung. Feeling like your body is growing weaker by every passing second. Taehyung is scowling at Liya’s mother. Displeasure evident in his features. 

“What?” The older woman scowls deeper than Taehyung. “What are you talking about Taehyung? I have no time for your stupid jokes. C’mon LIya. This is your opportunity. She grabs from your wrist. And the pain intensifies when she calls you Liya, yet again. You feel nauseous. So close to bend down from pain. 

“Really? How come a mother can’t recognize her own children apart?” Taehyung doesn’t let her off the hook that easily. 

Oh, gosh, this is turning into a nightmare for you. The pain is becoming unbearable. Your sight is turning blurr. You’re trying so bad not to clutch your chest. Liya’s mother gives Taehyung an odd look. This is not good. 

“What on the earth are you talking about? What children?” She questions. Visibly irritated.

“Your children. How can you not identify your own daughters apart?” 

Oh, you want to throw up. How are you ever going to explain this to Taehyung and J. 

“What daughters Taehyung? Are you drunk this early into the event?” Liya’s mother clicks her tongue in disapproval. “That’s such a lowly-” The rest of her words drowns by a loud ring in your ears. Pain in your chest doubles up unbearably. You almost give up and bend down in pain when you feel a pair of hands wrap around you. Then you hear the familiar soothing voice. Like it’s from a dream.

“Hi Mrs. Kim.”

“Oh Jimin-ah, good thing you’re here. Your friend is drunk.”

“I-I’m not drunk.” Taehyung protests but no one pays him any mind.

“Yeah? Ah- I’ll take care of him later. I’ll just need my girlfriend for a minute.” You feel Jimin slowly pulling you into him. Tears are starting to prick your eyes. It hurts. Oh, it hurts. 

“No. No. There’s this author she needs to meet. Right Liya?” She turns her attention to you again. And freeze. Probably taking in your appearance. 

“Why do you keep calling her, Liya?” That’s a female voice. You guess it’s J. Liya’s mother ignores her completely. 

“Oh my god, are you alright, honey? You’re pale.” Instead she cups your face immediately. And everyone breaks into a sudden chaos. 

“Of fuck! Are you okay, Li?”

“What’s happening?”

“It’s just like that day at Jungkook’s?”

“We need to call an ambulance.”

“Oh my god, oh my god. Liya, talk to me honey. What’s happening? Where does it hurt?”

You don’t know who’s saying what. Every time the name ‘Liya’ slips through her mothers lips you feel like you’re a step closer to your death. You give up trying to hide your pain. Should’ve fallen down onto the floor if it wasn’t for the tight grip Jimin is having around you.

“No. Guys she’s fine. Just let me take her somewhere private.” Jimin tries in vain to take you away from the three concerned people. But then you hear a new unfamiliar voice too. 

“Oh, hi Liya!”

It’s turning dark.

“This is my fiance. This is Kim Liya honey… wait are you okay?”

That’s all you hear. Everything goes black. You fall into Jimin’s hands. Everything goes into a pitch black stillness. Yet then you swear you saw a mop of silver hair. And a pair of lifeless eyes. So, you know you heard someone mumbling against your ear. 

“You should've heed my warning, little thing. You just put yourself in this misery and you know what’s going to happen…”

It’s just darkness. Painful darkness. 

“You’re about to turn into ashes and….”

Jimin, you need Jimin. 

“This is it…”

All you need is Jimin. 

“The beginning of the END.” 

..............................................................................................................................

a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @minijagiya @anumita-2007 @joulekanitz @llallaaa @fancypeacepersona @annyeongbitch7

[deathbyathousandspiders]

death of a hero. ₂

mcu!peter parker x fem!stark!reader | boy in the bubble part two.

IN WHICH after getting attacked, you find out that your dad & peter have kept spider–man’s identity a secret.

author's note — highly recommend reading part one first!! this cured my writer's block !! part three coming soon!!! :)

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader [physically/emotionally], swearing, mentions of blood, a flashback to homecoming, lots & lots & lots of angst.

read part one here.

gif found here.

✨masterlist.✨

3.4k.

Never in your life did you think you’d be targeted and attacked, then be smiling by the end of the night. You couldn’t fight the small grin touching your lips, couldn’t stop the butterflies that numbed each wound still scarring your body. 

Somehow, despite it all, Peter’s words gave you something to hold onto, something to keep you going—something hopeful. It gave you something to rewrite the painful narrative that your attacker had spat at you just an hour earlier. 

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

“You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak? Impossible.”

Once you finally got to the stairs to shower, you tried to swing your leg up, immediately met with a harsh reminder of how bad your bruises would be tomorrow. 

A wince parted your lips, sparking from the ache in your right hip and the direct strike it sent to the wound on your torso. 

Perhaps you needed Peter’s help after all. 

Taking a breath, you felt less hesitant than before to ask for help. It wasn’t like you had anything else to hide—you were tattered and torn up, topless and sticky with blood. 

Besides, you were used to walking with the weight of the wounds, at this point. You cut the distance to the kitchen in a matter of slow seconds. 

“Whoever attacked her tonight planned this.” Peter’s words made you pause just outside the entryway, hidden behind the wall just beyond. You blinked a bit, immediately feeling the weight of their conversation. “It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–” 

“You don’t know that—” Even as he cut Peter off, your dad’s response was cut short. 

“And you don’t either!” Both of the boys in the kitchen held something urgent to their words; the same sense of urgency that laced the undertones between them all evening. 

Whatever conversation you were overhearing, you knew in your bones that they didn’t want you to hear it. 

Sucks for them. 

Peter continued: “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened.” Your blood froze to ice at the sentence. “And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

Thick silence swelled in the room, and you suddenly feared that your racing heartbeat would interrupt it. You had to remind yourself to breathe, and remind yourself to be quiet. 

As tempted as you were to step in and ask questions, you knew that whatever they were keeping from you was more likely to be discovered from where you were. 

Somehow, this was something they wanted to hide from you. The secret, whatever it was, made the air around you feel slimmer and heavy all at once. It sent your thoughts into a spiral, and an urge to question the two people closest to you. 

“Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.” Tony took words from you that you hadn’t even known how to phrase to Peter yet. It sent a twinge to your heart, draped your panic in sympathy for him. 

“I know.” You could tell Peter needed to hear the words, even if he didn’t know how to admit it. 

“As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.” 

Something sunk in you, deflated your spirits. It hurt that they’d hid this from you—whatever it was—and had been lying for God knows how long. 

You could hear the jab in Peter’s own optimism when he spoke up again. “Then when do you plan to tell her?” At least, he was trying to come clean. 

“I don’t know..” Your dad was honest, and sullen about it. It only added to your confusion. 

Perhaps, they weren’t going to tell you ever. Maybe if you just revealed yourself and asked your own questions, you’d actually get somewhere. 

Peeling yourself off the wall and taking a few steps into frame, both Peter and your dad were completely oblivious to you. 

Despite how you stepped into view, they remained focused on the conversation, and your dad continued. “I’ll tell you what: you tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

The whole world stopped moving. 

“Peter’s what?”

You could’ve thrown up at the realization, at how cold and hollow the room suddenly became. The secret was out, and the quick and wide eyes that fell to you told you just how vital this secret was. 

Peter was Spider–Man. 

Even as you stared at him, eyes as wide as his, you couldn’t shake it. Your best friend was Spider–Man, working alongside your father and found family. 

The two of you held eye contact, trying to read the other. You could read the remorse and apology and panic swelling in his wide–eyed stare, but you hoped that some of the anger building in your own was silently translated regardless. 

Your dad tried to clear his throat, tried to slice through the rousing tension between the two of you, but you didn’t break from it in the slightest. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Tony tried to make a joke. To joke at a time like this, as if he wasn’t an accomplice. As if he wasn’t keeping this from you, arguably more than Peter had been. 

It was the last straw you’d been offering, swiped from your hands and dissipating with your patience. 

You scoffed, tears finally finding your eyes. The heat of them was boiled by rage, and you didn’t have the decency to hide it. “Fuck off.” 

The room was too hard to stand in. You walked away, reminded of why you were even standing in the kitchen in the first place. 

Pain itched its way up your priority list, but you didn’t care; finding a way up the stairs was the least of your worries. You were more concerned with how quickly you could get away. 

Especially as you could hear Peter calling after you, following the path you were carving between you. 

“Y/N!” He spoke your name like a plea, like it would somehow apologize for all the dirt you’d uncovered. The sound of his voice, however, only seemed to drive you further from him. 

It split your heart into more pieces than you knew how to count. 

You already battled the insecurity of being weak. A weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark. With all the time you spent in the compound, with your friends and family, you were one of the only powerless people among them. This whole time, you thought Peter understood. 

You thought the insecurity was shared, reciprocated. 

Clearly, you were wrong and an idiot. You were the only one powerless among them. 

It made you feel so stupid; to see all the inside jokes tossed over your head, to see every stupid excuse he made thrown back in your face, and he had the audacity to be sorry?

Damn right, he should be. 

Peter’s touch felt like sandpaper to your skin as he reached for your hand. You yanked it out, not bothering to turn around. 

You tried to be strong and suck up the pain, wanted more than anything to run up the stairs and lock yourself in your room—two quick steps up the stairwell and the adrenaline wore off. You slowed your pace, fighting off the wincing, and wanting anything but to ask for help from Spider–Man. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, and you felt sinister to think him deserving of it. “Please, I– I wanted to tell you, I promise–“

He must’ve been surprised when you turned around, at the speed you pivoted, at how intense your expression came across, because he startled. 

Your eyes held no response to the hot tears flooding from them, only holding space for the anger and hurt you didn’t have the energy to hide from him. 

“Promise?” The word came out whispered, threatening to break just as his words did. “You promise, just like how we promised to tell each other everything?” You saw each stab of each word and exactly where it hit on him, especially as your voice grew in volume. “Just like how you promised I wasn’t weak, when clearly, you know damn well how ironic that is!”

Twin tears slid down the length of his face, and you caught the subtle tremble in his bottom lip that he tried so hard to hide. “Please..” Now he was the one whispering, and you wish it sounded as satisfying as you wanted it to. 

“Don’t fucking sit there and act like you’re the hero here, Peter..” You couldn’t help the growl, couldn’t help the distaste inking down your body. Sure, you’d been hit with a knife just an hour prior in the evening, but you didn’t feel stabbed in the gut until now. “Don’t act like you understand shit about how I’m feeling right now!”

From just beyond, Tony started walking over, stepping quickly. “Hang on, Kid.” He cut in, stopping just a few paces behind Peter. “Don’t blame Peter for this.” His words practically turned up the heat on your burning rage. It was an effort to keep from boiling over. “I was the one who told him to keep quiet.”

The shakiest breath you’d taken all night forced its way down your throat. You finally pulled your eyes from Peter, watching your own father flinch at just how hurt you were. “No, you were the one who decided to be selfish!”

The room had never been so quiet, even the walls and the city beyond hushed to listen. 

“I don’t care who you thought you were saving here, but it wasn’t me.” Perhaps rage wasn’t the word you should use to describe the venom dripping off your words. You were seething, a mixture of betrayal and downright distraught. 

“I am not useless.” You felt the need to emphasize; to you, or the two faulty in front of you, no one could tell. “I may be the only powerless person in the fuck ass Avengers, but at least I’m fucking honest.”

When you met Peter’s eyes again, you almost couldn’t keep your composure. Maybe he was breaking apart just as quickly as you were, but you didn’t put in effort to hold room for an apology for him. You didn’t see the need to give one at all. 

“I’m sorry..” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, above the tremble shaking each breath he took. And watching the way your father’s posture craned in sympathy to it finally gave you a cue to leave. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You glanced between both of them, still ignoring the consistent stream of tears dripping off your nose and chin. “You both fucking should be.”

Holding your head high, you made your way up the stairs, pausing three steps up your trek when you heard a singular step in your direction. 

“Don’t fucking follow me.”

And you didn’t look back. 

The second you shut and locked your bedroom door, unshakable sobs spilled from your throat and choked you dry. You had never felt so isolated, so alone, and so pained. 

Truly, you did not know how it would get better from here, and all you wanted was to be held. 

You didn’t even know who you'd talk to about this. This betrayal stretched across every person you trusted, further than your eyesight. 

It was stupid, and you blamed yourself, but all you wanted to do was talk to Peter. 

Maybe not about it or to confront it right then, but you suddenly missed him and his support. You felt like that had been stripped away from you. 

You weren't sure how to trust him anymore, let alone anyone else who hid this from you.

It didn’t help that you replayed countless upon countless interactions—with your father, with Ned, and with Peter Parker Spider–Man himself. 

It reminded you of the last time you were mad at Peter, three years prior. 

At the Washington Monument. 

You remember him flaking on the academic decathlon, and flaking the night before. You were upset because he was obviously hiding something and he wouldn’t tell you what. 

“You promised we’d hang out tonight.” You remember calling after him, walking half the length of the hotel hallway after him, too. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!”

Peter was a pro at walking backwards, then and now, and as you always knew him to be. Even as you knew him as a klutz, even as it led him to keep walking away from you. “I’ll be back soon. I promise!”

It felt unfair to him to get frustrated with him, but you were. You were upset. “What? So your promises mean nothing?” 

That got him to stop. 

“What? No!” Defense, immediately. His eyes displayed more apology than his lips did, taking steps towards you. “I just.. I have to go, and I can explain it later–”

Your head shook at him. Whatever sparked you to feel upset had been growing for a while. It had been growing since he started ditching you a few months prior. “That’s what you said last time.” There was hurt in your voice, and you know he heard it. 

“But I–”

“We promised to tell each other everything.” You recalled your childhood together, your friendship before you started growing up. The two of you had known each other since elementary school, so changes like this was inevitable. It wasn't fair to hold him to the same standards you used to. “But if you want to go, don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy when you get back.”

You remember how it felt to walk away, but you remembered how it felt to hear him leave even more. That was harmful. 

He was entitled to grow up, just as you were, but the shifty way he started growing distant from you got you overthinking. 

It got you nervous that maybe he was seeing someone, and that hurt more than anything else. Especially that he was hiding it from you. 

What sucked the most was that Peter wasn’t back soon, or even that night. 

In fact, he wasn’t even at the academic decathlon. 

Part of you was relieved to get space from him, seeing how difficult all these feelings were to process; another part worried about him, but every time your anxiety would fester, something would serve a reminder of why you were upset in the first place. 

You won the decathlon without him. As you should.

After that, your team went to the Washington Monument, and Ned swore that Peter would meet you all there. 

“Look!” Ned tried to convince you, tried to break your unamused expression. “His location says he’s almost here.” And the phone screen he flashed at you proved honesty. Peter was minutes away. 

Before you could muster a response, Ned’s screen changed, and Peter was calling him. 

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two of you before Ned answered the call and you walked through the metal detectors. 

“Peter, are you okay?” You couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You missed a phrase or two while security patted down your blazer. All you caught was Ned muttering a subtle “I covered for you,” and then Liz Allen taking the phone from his hands. 

Something hollow carved into your stomach at the sight, and you began to speculate whether Liz was the girl he was sneaking off with or not. 

You didn’t wait to find out. You walked right into the elevator, joining the rest of your decathlon group. 

You didn’t remember much about the trip up the elevator, all you remember was light emitting out of Ned’s backpack and something radioactive blasting right into the roof of the cart. 

Suddenly, with trembling limbs and a newfound panic, your squabble with Peter Parker seemed more than minuscule. Regret was quick to fill that hollowing pit in your gut. 

You’d blacked out a lot of those scarce moments in the elevator. But you remembered when it was safe enough to move, the security guard began to open the hatch at the top of the elevator cart, and one by one help your classmates out. 

It wasn’t until there were four of you left in the elevator that it finally fell down the shaft towards your demise. There, in that Monument, you would die with Ned, Liz, and your teacher, Mister Harrington, you were sure of it. 

You’d never forget the relief you’d felt at the sight of red and blue rushing toward you, plummeting quicker than you were, and webbing your way to safety. 

It felt odd to look back on, knowing now that it was Peter who pulled that elevator up to your safety. How you were only concerned then with apologizing to Peter Parker, who glanced at you there from beneath that mask, completely unbeknownst to you. 

Once he’d gotten you up to the top of the Monument, Ned was the first to leap out to safety, then Mister Harrington. The two of them helped Liz get out, and to your luck, just as you took a step forward, the webs above you snapped. 

You and Spider–Man fell with a blood curdling scream breaking through you. 

“NO!!” He called after you, and quickly shot a web up to the roof again. His other arm reached out toward you, webbing your wrist rather quickly, keeping you from falling any further. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay– I got you. You're okay..” He told you, his tone as gentle and soft as you knew it to be; yet, not a single thought crossed your mind that it was Peter Parker. 

You shakily dangled beneath him as he tugged you up from that web. You fought to look up at him, to keep yourself from looking down; you fought to keep the tears at bay as the shock flooded from your system. 

The second your hands touched, he pulled you up and into him. You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him for dear life. And it made sense, now, why he felt so familiar—why his warmth was so comforting, and why his arm around your waist felt like it belonged there. 

He held you securely, lulling those reassurances to you, pulling the two of you up to safety at the top of that Monument. 

Just before he set you down, you held him tighter. “Pe–Peter!” You gasped, and felt every muscle beneath your hold tense. 

Now, you knew why. 

You pulled back from his arms, “Peter Parker, my– my best friend! He was on his way over here.” Your voice shook as you explained, but watching him carefully set you on the ground helped to steady yourself a little. “Can you make sure– Could you make sure that he’s okay?”

Looking back, the reason why Spider–Man gaped at you so long must’ve been Peter contemplating whether or not to tell you who he was right then and there. He stared at you, beneath that mask, for what felt like minutes. 

He gave a singular, upside down, nod. “I can do that, ma’am.” And his thick, Bronx, accent threw you off more than you wanted to admit. 

Then he fell down the empty shaft of the elevator. 

You’d never forget the moment he found you after that. 

You had just gotten out of the Monument. With a shaky hand, you went through your phone to track Peter’s location. It said he was a matter of meters from you, but you couldn’t spot him in the crowd. 

Just as you went to ask Ned, Peter’s voice hollered out, calling your name. 

Both of you turned in his direction, the crowd of people parting for him as he ran over to you, catching you in a bone–crushing hug. One of his hands cradled your head into his chest, and the other kept itself snug around your waist, just like Spider–Man had earlier. "I'm so glad you're okay.." He whispered it into your hairline, just for you to keep.

The world washed away in the arms of Peter Parker. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, too, hugging him effortlessly closer. Apologies from your argument the night before fell from your lips, and he also followed suit. 

You recalled that memory as something that defined how you and Peter operated—no matter what, you couldn’t stay mad at him. 

You would always find a way to forgive him. 

Now, remembering the incident was a bit more haunting. There was no telling how you and Peter would come back from this, nor just how long you’d go without each other.

And you didn't think Spider–Man would get you out of it, this time.

tag–list: @yourfavoritefangirl @inkedeye2345 @wxnterwidow333 @generalmoonpolice @elianamarie-blog

comment for the part three tag list;)

[staylovesmiley]

So this is kind of built off someone’s previous ask but kind of angstier I guess

But thoughts on poly skz x reader who are away on tour. And as much as they love the reader and will miss her they still have each other so they have someone to love and hold every night , they still getting laid all the damn time. But she’s just at home all sad and lonely cause all her 8 boyfriends are gone but she doesn’t want to be a bother cause she knows they are busy on tour

Angst is my specialty hehe~

Poor reader would feel so lonely without her boyfriends (as someone who’s is somewhat long distance with my own partner??? I mean like- a little over an hour but still lol) the boys would also be gutted to not have her there but like you said…they aren’t exactly lonely-

They would try begging her to join them on tour but as usual they got a “I can’t- you know I have work too or else I would.” Or something of the sort in response and it would SUCK telling them no even when they offer to pay for your ticket to come see them but ugh being an adult means having responsibilities unfortunately…

They would send you videos and pictures and try and keep you updated on their lives on tour so you don’t feel left out but it only makes you feel that much lonelier. But you signed up for this, you knew their careers would mean you would have to be apart from them sometimes while they got to be together…I feel like after a while, when your replies to them started to become short with the pressure of pretending that everything is okay and tbh I feel like Minho would clock that shit first. Immediately he is calling you out asking what is wrong and you would try and hide it as till until he starts blowing up your phone with calls until you finally answer and hearing his voice sound so concerned would be the tipping point and you are crying and confessing how lonely you’ve been feeling to him in seconds.

After calming you down and talking through it he convinces you to say something to the others so you have a group call where you all talk about your feelings and how the distance has been so hard- and you feel better afterwards and life goes on as it had been, counting down the days until they get back to you….until Seungmin shows up at your work place with flowers and you are so shocked you think you might be hallucinating and he admits that he may have impulsively bought a plane ticket while you were all on a call that night and wanted to surprise you~ it’s only for a few days since he still has tour to go back to but instead of spending his free days in between stops in whatever city they were in last he decided to fly back to spend as much time as he could with his beautiful girlfriend who he missed so so much and for the rest of the tour, a few of your other boyfriends decide to do the same thing and you feel much less lonely than you did before~

I know it was meant to be angsty but I’ve been in a fluffy comfort mood lately- been super stressed with work and could use comfort hehe

[wht-am-i-doin]

For the Angst Prompt "Don't touch me" + Lestappen

“Charles, wait-” Charles could see Max's hand outstretched, trying to catch him as he backed away.

“No! No! Don’t touch me, Max, don’t you dare fucking touch me”

“Babe, come on, it’s not that serious”

“Not serious, Max; you’ve been lying to me this entire time”

Charles saw Max having to physically restrain himself from reaching out again, but it didn’t bother him as much as the tears Max had brought to his eyes. 

“Charlie, come on, I haven’t lied about everything; it’s not even important; why are you so hung up on it?”

He could physically feel his final straw snap at that, “Not important?” the question came out as a deadly whisper, a hiss, “You’ve lied to me this entire relationship, and you expect me to believe that it’s not important?”

“Charles-” his hand rising to reach out to him again, but this time Charles backed away.

“No, I… I don’t think I can even look at you right now.” Seeing Max take a breath, he felt his anger come back to him in a wave, “Why? Why Max?”

Charles could see the embarrassed look on Max’s face and was dreading the response before Max could even open his mouth.

“I didn’t think you would ever find out, Cha-”

“So that makes it ok? Lying to your boyfriend for the entire relationship is ok if he never finds out about it?” Fuck the wave of anger; Charles was so incensed he thought that some of the Tifosi might be feeling it in their altars so much they’d be starting riots.

“Oh come on, you mean to tell me that you’ve never lied to me?” Max seemed to be moving to the defensive, his hackels rsing as Charles’ anger grew. If Charles had been even slightly calmer he might’ve realized that this was the first time he had raised his voice at Max during an argument. Something he worked hard to avoid as to not bring up Max’s past demons.

“Not with something as big as this! And never about something that wasn’t intended for you!”

Charles could see Max’s eyes close as he looked up, his chest rising slower as he took deep breaths. Before he could say anything, though, Charles found himself cutting off Max.

“You know what, I need some space”

“Space.” The deadpan response from Max almost made Charles crack, but he stuck to his gumption.

“Yes. I need space.” He nodded to himself, “You can sleep on the couch”

“the couch.”

Max’s eyes seemed to bore into Charles even harder than before.

Taking Max’s response as confirmation, Charles was quick to escape to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Charlie, are you serious?!”

Charles could hear the incredulity creep into Max’s tone as he slid down the door to sit against it.

Charles sighed as the feeling of Max leaning his head against the door vibrated through his core.

“Babe come on, it was just monopoly”

“It's not just anything, Verstappen; you’ve been letting me win for years now”

“In a game! Just open the door!”

“No,” if Charles had been with anyone else, he might’ve worried about what his partner would be feeling, but Max had entered into the relationship with his eyes wide open to the terror that was Charles, “you can sleep on the couch and think about what you’ve done”

Max’s sigh reached through the door to hit his ears.

“And the pets?”

Charles hesitated and then stood firm, “They will be taking your spot on the bed”

“Ok, babe, whatever you want”

Charles leaned his head back as he smiled; it seemed Max would learn his lesson about lying to him after all.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — all i want !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕ itoshi sae x gn!reader

contents﹕ one shot, angst, wc: 951, proofread

it was always the little things that reminded itoshi sae of you. a song that played on the radio when he was driving, the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, even the sight of a cup of coffee sitting untouched on a counter. everything seemed to pull him back to you.

even though you were no longer in his life, you were everywhere.

you had been his lover. his home.

the days were long and lonely without you by his side. the last time you spoke, everything had been so heated. words said in frustration, things that neither of you truly meant. but sae knew, deep down, that you were right. he had pulled away too much. he had become consumed by his own ambitions, and in doing so, he had lost you.

“i can’t keep doing this,” you had said, tears in your eyes, before you turned away.

and he hadn’t stopped you. he hadn’t known how to fix it.

it had been months, but it felt like no time had passed at all. the empty apartment around him echoed with your absence. he'd tried to move on, but the more he did, the more it felt like he was running in circles. every achievement, every victory, felt hollow without you there to share it with him.

one night, he sat by the window, staring out into the city, the lights twinkling like stars. the world outside was alive, but inside, he was suffocating.

he reached for his phone, scrolling through the contact list, his finger hovering over your name. he wanted to reach out, to tell you he was sorry, but he didn’t. he didn’t think you wanted to hear from him.

but the truth was, sae had never known how to express what he was feeling. his pride always got in the way. he was too proud to admit he had made a mistake, too proud to show vulnerability. but now, with you gone, that pride didn’t mean anything.

everything reminded him of you. the places you had been, the way you laughed, the way you made him feel like he wasn’t just some soccer star, but someone who mattered.

weeks later, after days of wandering through his thoughts, he found himself standing in front of the café you used to frequent. he didn’t know why he was here. maybe it was the hope of seeing you, of getting one last glimpse of what he had lost.

he walked inside, his eyes scanning the room. and there you were. sitting by the window, looking out at the world like you always did. you hadn’t noticed him yet, and part of him wanted to turn around and leave, to avoid the awkwardness of seeing you after so long. but he couldn’t.

you were still there.

he walked up to your table, his heart racing.

“y/n,” he said, his voice soft.

you looked up, your eyes wide with surprise. the tension in the air was thick, both of you standing at the crossroads of something neither of you could fully name.

“sae?” you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and something else - something he couldn’t quite place.

he nodded, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, but there was something desperate in his tone that you couldn’t ignore. “can i sit?”

you hesitated but then nodded. he took the seat across from you, his gaze never leaving yours.

there was silence between you, a weight neither of you could escape. he knew he had hurt you. and yet, the words he needed to say seemed to elude him.

“i'm sorry,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “for everything. for not being there. for pushing you away.”

you looked down, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. “sae, you don’t get it. it wasn’t just about you not being there. it was about you never trying.”

his chest tightened. he knew you were right. he had been so caught up in his career, in proving himself, that he hadn’t realized how much he was losing in the process.

“i know,” he whispered. “i know, and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know if i can.”

you met his gaze then, and for a brief moment, the walls between you both seemed to crumble. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, something he never let anyone see. but it wasn’t enough.

“i can’t keep waiting for you, sae,” you said, your voice trembling. “i can’t keep pretending like this is all okay when it’s not.”

he closed his eyes, his heart heavy with the truth of your words.

“i know,” he said again. “but everything reminds me of you. every single thing. i can’t escape it.”

you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. “i can’t do this, sae. i wish things could have been different, but…”

you didn’t finish your sentence. you didn’t need to.

and he didn’t try to stop you.

as you walked away, sae sat there, the ache in his chest growing with every step you took.

he had everything he’d ever wanted - except the one thing he couldn’t keep.

he went back to his apartment, the same empty apartment where everything reminded him of you. he went to the window again, staring out at the city, but it felt colder this time. more distant.

he had lost you. and no matter how much he wanted to change it, no matter how many times he wished for things to be different, it wouldn’t make a difference.

you were gone.

and now, everything would always remind him of you.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[arannellahowlett]

Bruised and Bloody

Note: Who is ready for some Simon Riley angst? I fear he's vastly ooc...my apologies. Part 2 if people like it?

Warnings: angst, mentions of past abuse, Simon Riley hating himself

Summary: Y/N Riley wakes up alone in bed and wondering where her husband is, he's having a rough night and needs some reassurance.

Simon Riley was a complicated man, with a complicated past and most of it was unpleasant. During the day it was easy to keep the memories at bay, he kept himself busy, either on missions, training or with his wife Y/N. Nighttime was the worst. It was during the night that he often found himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling for hours on end as his memories poured, from missions gone bad, all the way back to his childhood. And they were vivid, so much so that he swore he could touch, feel and smell what was happening. There was a sadness which as the night wore on would turn into anger and sometimes fear. It was particularly bad on the nights immediately after returning from assignments. Tonight was one of those nights.

Y/N rolled over in her sleep, reaching for him to cuddle into his side, she was cold, and he was a furnace…except he wasn’t there, and his side of the bed was cold. She blinked rapidly, clearing the fog from her brain and letting her eyes focus and looking at the clock, just after 3 am.  Sure enough, he was gone, and she knew exactly where he would be. She swung her legs out of the bed, pulled on the pair of socks she had thrown on the floor before bed and grabbed Simon’s hoodie from the bottom of the bed, putting it on, it was so big that it covered her knees. Quietly, she made her way downstairs, bypassing the living room and heading directly for their basement. Before she even reached the stairs, she could hear him grunting and the rapid thumping of his fists violently attacking the punching bag he had set up ages ago.

As Y/N made it halfway down the stairs she could see he was sweating, Y/N could see it dripping off his bare back. She could tell he’d been down here for hours just by how exhausted he looked. She could also see that he hadn’t wrapped his hands first, something she’d begged him to do repeatedly. He often said that he was a broken man, a cold-hearted one, all Y/N saw though was a man who needed to be comforted and loved, and she was more than happy to provide it.

Y/N watched him for a few minutes, he had no idea that she was there, completely lost in his desire to beat the absolute hell out of the punching bag. If he was just down here working, Y/N would think it was hot, the mix of strikes, jabs and everything else he is doing, the sight of him without a shirt alone would do her in…But Simon was clearly having a bad night, the sounds of his hands hitting the leather getting louder and more rapid. Y/N had to get him to stop before he hurt himself.

Y/N sighed quietly, knowing better than to startle him. That had happened once and only once, and it had not been pretty. She stayed back by the stairs before finally speaking up, just loud enough that she knew he would hear her.

“Simon? Come back to bed. Please?” She watched Simon freeze in place, his breathing heavy and ragged, fist remaining in the air as he’d been mid-punch, Y/N could already tell that his knuckles were going to be bruised from the relentless abuse Simon had inflicted. He took a deep breath before turning his head to look at Y/N with a look that could only be a mixture of anger, exhaustion and a hint of fear. He didn’t say a word but lowered his hand.

 Y/N took his pause as permission to creep forward, moving slowly towards him before wrapping her arms around him from behind. “You okay?” She asked, her hands resting on his stomach. She felt the muscles tense under her touch, but he didn’t protest or remove them. Y/N’s warmth was comforting against his back. A light in his darkness.

He didn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to let silence pass between them before finally answering. “No,” he admitted, his voice lower and hoarser than it usually was. Y/N squeezed him gently, he was being honest tonight, that was a good sign.

“Okay. What can I do to help?” she asked softly. Normally, Simon would say there wasn’t anything she could do, that he was fine, and he was just blowing off steam.

Tonight however, Simon leaned back into Y/N’s embrace, his shoulders relaxing under her touch and he let out a sigh, his exhausted seeping into his voice. “I…don’t know. “He started. “I just need…” He trailed off, he didn’t know how to put into words what he needed, he wasn’t used to expressing when he needed something/ His tough exterior hid his feelings well but in the rare moments like tonight he would allow the cracks in his armor show, but only for Y/N.

Y/N could feel the weight of his emotions, the struggle of a man who had spent most of his life burying his trauma and pain under a normally stoic demeanor. It had always been hard for him to open to people, here right now in the early hours of the morning he was letting his guard slip. He continued to lean against Y/N, seeking comfort in her embrace and craving the connection and comfort that only she could provide him.

Without letting go of him, Y/N maneuvered herself around him so that she was facing him. Slowly she traced her fingers up to his stomach, to his chest and finally rested them on his shoulders, or as well as she could, considering how small she was compared to his 6’4 frame.

 Simon’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, his eyes distant and unfocused. In her new position, Y/N could read his face more clearly, his brows were furrowed, and his lips were in a thin line, his jaw tense as he ground his teeth together. He didn’t move away though, instead he leaned into her touch, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out and hold her but held himself back. Y/N trailed one hand down his right arm, all the way until she reached his hand, gently lifting it to inspect the damage.

 She tsked as she saw the angry cracks, blood and bruising of his knuckles. Caressing them gently she looked up at him sadly. “Baby, I really wish you’d at least wrap your hands…”

Simon watched her with careful eyes, wincing slightly as her fingers ran over the sore spots. He knew he’d done this to himself, again, continuing his self-destructive pattern that they both knew so well.

“I know,” He mumbled, his voice sounding raw and gruff. “I just…needed to feel something, anything, just something I could control.” He tried to pull his hand back, not wanting her to see the true extent of the damage he’d caused to himself.

Y/N shook her head. “Please don’t hide from me Simon.”

She watched as his jaw clenched, resignation and frustration clear on his face. He knew she was the last person he should hide from, but the fear of opening and being vulnerable, even to his wife, made him want to make a quick retreat. However, he allowed her to continue inspecting his hand, rough and callused, his hands were a testament to his military career and the battles fought both on and off the battlefield.

Y/N brought his hand up to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently before letting go and reaching for his left. She sighed when she saw that he had left his wedding ring on, if his knuckles were anymore swollen, she would have been concerned that it would have to be cut off. She caressed his left hand the same way she had done the right, before kissing it and leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers moving to play in his short brown hair.

“I wish you trusted me enough to come to me on nights like this Simon, I can help. I know it’s hard and you’re stubborn, but I love you.” She said softly to him.

Simon shook his head. “I trust you,” He whispered, a slight crack in his voice. “I just…I can’t lay this all on you Sunshine. I won’t burden you.”

Y/N smiled softly at him. “It’s not a burden Si, I’m your wife, for better or for worse.”

Simon’s eyes met hers, conflict and pain fading from his gaze. Y/N always understood and accepted him, which only made him love her more, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilt for putting her through his often turbulent moods. His large hands moved to her hips, holding her close as if he was scared, she’d disappear. He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.” His jaw was tense and his grip on her hips tightened, seeking some kind of reassurance from her. The vulnerability in his eye betrayed the usual façade of strength that he wore as a second skin.

Y/N gripped his arms, staring directly into his shining eyes. “You aren’t going to hurt me, and you certainly aren’t going to lose me. You are stuck with me Simon Riley, in this lifetime and all others.” She promised softly.

Simon was never the sentimental type, but her words struck a chord deep within him. He pulled her closer, his large arms wrapping around her waist tightly as he buried his face in her neck taking a shaky breath and surrounding himself with her warmth like a safe haven. She could barely hear it but she froze when he heard him whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

Her heart broke a little, it wasn’t the first time that he’d said it, but it was the first time she was letting him know that she heard it. “Simon, I want you to listen to me and listen good yeah?” I moved one hand to card through his hair. “You deserve the world, you deserve to be loved, you deserve to be happy. I don’t care what your bastard of a father told you when you were a kid.”

She watched him close his eyes. “But I’m broken love.” He murmured. “After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve seen…You should be running for the hills.”

Y/N sighed sadly, tugging on his hand and leading him to the bench along the wall. “Sit, you’re too tall for me to do this standing.”

He did as she asked, his body was too tired and aching after his latest mission and now having beat the hell out of the punching bag for hours. Once he was seated, Y/N moved to stand between his thighs, resting her hands on his shoulders. Simon looked up at her, just waiting.

“You are not broken Simon, a little rough around the edges, but not broken.” I murmured. “I will always want you Simon, please never doubt that. You have seen terrible things and gone through so much bad shit. But you’ve also spent your entire life trying to help people. You have saved thousands of lives and get no thanks for it. That takes an incredibly special kind of person.”

Y/N could see him readying himself to argue so she cut him off. “You are my everything Simon, I would be lost without you, and I will spend every day making sure that you know it.”

Simon’s features softened and he reached up to pull her hands off his shoulders so that he could hold them. He had spent so long believing that he didn’t deserve to be loved, but Y/N’s unwavering devotion was a constant in his life now, even after 5 years together it surprised him. His grip tightened, his calloused fingers intertwined with her much smaller and softer one, he pulled her close so that he could embrace her fully.

 “Damn it, I really don’t deserve you, Sunshine.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotions.

 Y/N rolled her eyes and snorted.  “I believe was just went over this, you do, and I will not accept that you don’t, you stubborn man. I can be stubborn too you know.”

Simon let out a soft chuckle. He knew her too well and her stubbornness when it came to him was unyielding. He leaned his forehead against her stomach, a deep sigh escaping him. “If only the world knew how stubborn my wife is.”

She smiled down at him, with one hand moving to his hair. “I have to be to be able to handle you.”

Simon’s eyes closed as he leaned against her, simply enjoying the closeness. He opened them again when she tugged on his hair gently. “Come on Si, let’s go to bed.”

He was exhausted and released the grip he had around her waist, and with a tired smile he nodded, letting her pull him up before he took her hand and led her up the basement stairs before taking the next set of stairs to the bedroom. The walk was slow and silent, Simon’s body was weary, his usual confident stride replaced with a sluggish pace. Once in the bedroom he lowered himself slowly onto the bed, groaning as he did.

Y/N watched carefully, his normally sharp and alert gaze was weighed down by physical and mental fatigue. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with movement. His gaze turned to hers and he patted the spot beside him. “Come on love,”

Y/N slid under the covers with him, immediately settling into his arms, head on his chest, his wrapped around her back. She started drawing small patterns on his chest with her finger. “Si?”

He turned his head to look at her in the darkness, just barely making out the shape of her. “Yes love?” he asked with a squeeze of his arm.

“I love you.”

She felt Simon immediately relax. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned just enough to press a gentle kiss onto her lips. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than you could ever imagine.”

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 6

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Lots of Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies, Knife Injury’s and Attempted Murder

- Part 5 Here -

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18+ Only

Authors note: Sorry this part took so long! I initially wrote one version, hated it and then rewrote it completely, still not overly happy with it but heyoooo! Enjoy.

——————————




Almost as soon as Bob had left and you’d waved him down your road, your bags not even having been taken inside yet, Bradley pulled up on your drive.




“Y/N, wait, please.” He called from the front seat of the bronco.




You rolled you eyes and sighed, picking up your bags.




“Not now, Brad. I’m tired and uncomfortable and I really just wanna have a shower.”




He climbed out of the Bronco and followed you up the drive, grabbing your bags out of your hands.




“Just give me 10 minutes, please?” He asked.




“Why?” You snapped, “What is the point of all of this?”




“What do you mean what is the point of all of this? You’re just going to kiss me like that and think everything will just go away?” His voice rose an octave.




“Shh! My mom’s inside and I really really don’t wanna have to explain to her why you just said that.” You covered your face with your hands as you groaned.




“Then come over to mine, please. You can shower and we can talk.”




“No, just leave me alone Brad.”




“Y/N… please.” He was earnest, his eyes pleading.




You sighed as you considered it, biting your cheek, and eventually nodded.




“Okay, fine. Shower first, then talk.”




Bradley nodded back and you followed him to his house. He placed your bags in his bedroom and lingered by the door.




“Remember the last time you were in this room? Punched me right here.” He chuckled, patting his shoulder.




You rolled your eyes but a little chuckle did escape you.




Bradley gave you some space to get yourself refreshed. You pulled out your jeans and a tank top, some bottles of body and hair wash, and your moisturiser.




Bradley’s bathroom was small but it was all you needed, you put your clothes on the toilet seat and climbed into the shower.




You sighed as the hot water washed the dried salt from the sea off of your skin and hair.




You didn’t spend long in there, and once you’d moisturised and gotten dressed you took a deep breath and made your way out.




You were anxious, not sure you really had the emotional energy to discuss what had happened with Bradley, but you had agreed to, so you walked to the living room where he sat waiting for you.




He stood as you walked in, hands on his hips awkwardly as he gestured for you to sit.




“Brad can you just spit it out, please?” You huffed impatiently, opting to stand.




He nodded for a moment, then took a deep breath, “I have feelings for you.”




You were silent as you stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was being serious.




“Please could you say something?” He rubbed his face.




“What kind of feelings?” You asked hesitantly.




Bradley sighed, “You’re a huge pain in my ass… but all I wanna do is kiss you.”




You shuffled uncomfortably, “So you just want me to be another notch on your belt?”




He rubbed his face in frustration again, “No.” hands back on the hips, “It’s not like that.”




“Then explain it to me.” You insisted.




“Why? Don’t you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”




“No, Brad! If you were anyone else maybe I would take you at your word, but can you blame me for needing a little more reassurance from you?”




“What do you want me to say? Huh? That I’m falling for you, and that over the last week I’ve really enjoyed planning with you, and now I can’t stop thinking about you, and looking at you? That I wanna hold you and kiss you so much it hurts me? Because I do, okay? Is that what you want?” He yelled.




That was exactly what you wanted, but you wanted more.




“The kiss last night, and on the boat earlier, were they real?” You asked.




“Real? Y/N, what kind of question is that? Do you go around fake kissing people like that?” He laughed in exasperation.




“Just answer the question, Brad. Was it real or just for show?”




“It was real! Okay? I’d been trying to think of a way to kiss you ever since you made that stupid no kissing rule, and the more you did to annoy me or piss me off, the more I wanted you.” His face was red now and he was ranting. “God, and then you put on that damn dress and I nearly lost my mind, you made it so difficult to separate what was real and what was for show and-“




You grabbed Bradley by his shirt and pulled him into you, your lips pressed against his just so he would shut up.




“You talk too much.” You joked as you pulled back for air, immediately returning for more.




He groaned loudly, a little surprised, and his arm wrapped across your lower back, pulling you flush against him.




Your fingers tangled in his messy curls and he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist, giving you a better angle to deepen the kiss.




“Does that mean you feel the same?” Bradley grunted between kisses.




“Just shut up and kiss me, Bradshaw.”




He did as instructed, and suddenly your back was up against a wall and his soft lips migrated south to your neck and collar bone.




You hummed at the feeling and gasped as Bradley ground his hips into yours.




“Now that…your mouth is free… tell me how you feel.” He mumbled against your skin.




You chuckled, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling, “I think you’re alright.”




Bradley nipped your skin, “Don’t quote Shania Twain right now. The truth.”




“Fine.” You huffed, and his hands slid under your shirt, wrapping around your waste as he ground his hips again. “I… I’ve always had a crush on you… but this weekend… oh do I really need to say it?”




“Yes.” He mumbled into your skin again.




“I think I’m falling for you too…” you breathed.




Bradley immediately found your lips again, hungrily this time, and carried you to the couch, laying you on your back.




“Good girl.” Now he was kissing the skin on your stomach and rib cage, his fingers hooked into your jeans as he tugged.




You lifted your butt to help him and you were suddenly very relieved that you had grabbed your good lacy underwear before showering.




Bradley’s lips slowly edged downwards and peppered your hips, his fingers gently running along the top of your underwear.




Your hands moved to his back and you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling the garment over his head and flinging it to the floor.




You couldn’t get over how his body had changed over the years, he looked like a golden god, and you ran your fingers down the muscles on his back as Bradley kissed your lips again, his hand cupping your jaw gently.




You bucked your hips into his, desperate to feel him again, but a big hand pressed down on your belly to stop you.




“Nuh uh.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Ask nicely.”




You sat upright, Bradley still on all fours between your now bent legs. “Make me.”




He leaned forward to kiss you again, his hand grabbed your ankle and pulled you back down into a laying position. “Now, ask nicely.” He repeated.




You grinned playfully, “Please… please grow up.” You teased. Bradley quirked an eyebrow.




“Oh so that’s how you wanna play?” He growled, pressing his lips back on yours, kissing down your chin and neck. If that’s how you wanted to play, Bradley was going to show you how he could outplay you, and his thumb moved down to stroke over your clothed core gently.




You moaned at the feeling and bucked your hips again. He held you down and continued his movements over the lacy undergarment.




You clenched your teeth at the lack of control this gave you, at his teasing, at the fact that you were doing this with someone you, until very recently, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as.




You were getting very hot very quickly, so you discarded your tank top, your matching bra suddenly catching Bradley’s attention.




“Have you been wearing underwear like this the whole time?”




“Well, since after school, yeah.” You rolled your eyes as your chuckled, out of breath.




Bradley was practically salivating as he gently squeezed one of your boobs, “The matching set was a good call.”




You swatted his hand away, “I’ve taken off enough clothes now, time for you to lose the jeans, Bradshaw.”




He got up and shimmied out of his jeans, standing in just his boxers in front of you. You gulped at the size of whatever he was hiding under them, you’d felt it a few times now but it certainly looked bigger than you’d expected.




Bradley gazed down at you longingly, your beautiful form below him in your lacy underwear that was begging to be torn off of you.




Suddenly his attention was drawn to the window, and his eyes widened.




“Shit.” He hissed, dropping onto the couch and hovering over you as he ducked his head below the back of the couch.




“What?” You asked, your heart rate speeding up for an entirely different reason now.




He dipped his head just inches from yours and whispered, “It’s Angie.”




You sighed in annoyance, “Did she see you?”




Bradley shook his head, “Don’t think so.”




Then there was a loud knock on the door, and you both kept quiet as you waited, bodies pressed scandalously together, waiting impatiently for more.




Another knock followed by a frustrated voice, “I know you’re there, your car is in the drive next door.”




You waited in silence a little longer, and then Bradley carefully poked his head up over the couch when the knocking stopped.




“She’s leaving.” He whispered.




“Thank god.” You felt a sense of relief, you could not deal with more drama right now.




You and Bradley stared at each other for a moment, and then you both started laughing.




He pressed his lips to yours softly, and you relished the feeling, your legs wrapped around him again and his fingers dipped into the side of your underwear, slowly tugging them down.




Bradley lifted your legs and discarded your underwear, and you suddenly felt embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him. That was until he grunted in approval.




“Fuck, you are just perfect all over aren’t you?”




You blushed bright red, but propped yourself up on your elbows to kiss him hungrily. His hand snuck behind your back and he snapped the clasp of your bra off.




Now that you were entirely naked before him, something animalistic inside Bradley took over.




His hands pawed and grasped at your flesh as he kissed your lips hungrily, then trailing down your body like he had to cover you with searing kisses completely.




His lips were getting dangerously close to your sensitive area but he was taking his time teasing you, peppering kisses along your abdomen and thighs.




You bit your lip as he got closer, closer, and suddenly his tongue flattened against your core and he licked a long, slow stripe through your lips.




Your back arched and your head dug back into the pillow as you moaned loudly. He did that two more times, and then his soft lips moved to suck gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves.




His eyes never leaving your beautiful, arching form, his tongue darted back out to dip into you, his thumb now rubbing circles expertly against your clit as his tongue fucked you.




“Brad!” You gasped, “Fuck.”




He smirked, licking another slow stripe to your clit. He gave you a very short breather when he removed his mouth and sucked two of his fingers. He slid them through your folds and pressed them into you.




You gasped at the stretch as he pumped them in and out, and shook as he curled them into your g-spot, his lips and tongue returning to their place on your clit.




You were doing a bad job at containing yourself, with one hand covering your mouth and another in Bradley’s hair. Bradley grinding against the couch did little to prevent the coil building inside of you and all you could think about was him grinding into you instead.




You were so close, so painfully close, when you both jumped as you heard glass smashing and the back door to the kitchen opening.




Bradley pulled out of you carefully and you immediately covered yourself with a large pillow.




“What the fuck was that?” You panted.




Bradley motioned for you to stay where you were as he stood slowly. He picked up a paperweight from the mantelpiece and edged towards the kitchen from the hallway.




You held your breath, quickly throwing your clothes back on as best you could before following.




You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Bradley yell and something metallic clang to the floor. The paperweight?




“Fuck! Angie, what are you doing here?” He cursed.




You let out a deflated sigh and walked into the kitchen, annoyed but relieved.




You stood just behind Bradley, and Angie’s face twisted in dismay.




“I knew it!” She spat, a large rock from Bradley’s back garden clutched in her hand.




“You broke my back door, Angie, what the fuck? You can’t just break in if I don’t answer the door!” Bradley exclaimed.




You hung back behind Bradley’s large frame, unsure of what Angie would do.




“You said there was nothing going on!” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you, tears streaming down her face.




You stepped forward carefully, hands held out as you edged around Bradley. “Angie I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t think he felt the same way about me, but-“




“I don’t care about your excuses, you said I could have him once you had played your silly game!”




“Angie, I don’t feel that way about you.” Bradley interjected, and she looked taken aback, like she’d just been punched in the face.




“But… you slept with me.”




“Yes I know, I’m sorry. I was drunk and your name was the first one in my contacts, and truth be told you were the only ex that hadn’t already blocked me. I shouldn’t have done that, we were finished and… that’s all it was Angie, it was just sex.”




You felt bad for Angie suddenly, but she was taking things way too far.




She stood for a while just looking between you and Bradley before her eyes finally settled on you.




“This is all because of you. Before you, I stood a chance.” Her voice was now low, monotone, very different to her usual high pitched treble.




You suddenly felt very uncomfortable and stood a tiny step back, Bradley stepping forward in front of you.




“I think you should leave, Angie.” Bradley stated.




She didn’t move, still staring at you through the gap in Bradley’s arm, her blue eyes intensely boring into yours.




She must have been assessing her surroundings, because suddenly, almost too quickly to react, Angie grabbed a kitchen knife from the rack and lunged at Bradley.




The knife skimmed his bicep, slicing Bradley as she directed it towards you.




Thankfully Bradley’s reflexes were too quick, and he knocked Angie’s hand away from you, the force sending her reeling backwards on the slippery kitchen floor.




“Go!” He yelled, pushing you out of the kitchen and into the hallway.




You could feel Bradley behind you, ushering you towards the front door, until suddenly you couldn’t anymore.




You glanced back over your shoulder and your heart stopped.




Bradley lay on his front, barely having made it out of the kitchen. Angie had stabbed him in his shoulder blade and was wiggling the knife out in an attempt to get up and chase you, but the knife was wedged in the bone. Bradley yelled out in pain, thrashing and trying to get her to the ground.




You immediately ran back, shoving her shoulders hard and sending her flying off of his back. Unfortunately this also dislodged the knife, and as she flew back she swung through the air and the knife caught your shoulder.




You clutched at the bleeding skin for a second, quickly realising you needed to get Bradley up and out of the house before she regained her balance.




You helped him up and you both ran for the door as quick as you could. Bradley grabbed the handle and pulled.




“Fuck!” Bradley slammed his fists into the door as he realised he’d locked it out of habit and the keys were on the living room coffee table.




He turned to face Angie who stood between you and the living room door, the one beautiful red head now deranged and terrifying. Panic sweeped over you as you considered your options.




“Brad, as soon as she turns around, go get the keys and get help.” You stated very quietly as you stared her down.




“What are you taking about?” Bradley asked.




You quickly lunged towards Angie and she swung the knife.




“Y/N!” Bradley yelled, reaching out to grab you and pull you back. You were already too far and out of his reach. Bradleys heart stopped as the knife missed your jugular by mere millimetres, and you dropped to your knees and crawled past her.




She screamed in frustration, whipping around.




You quickly stood to your feet and ran down the hall and around the corner to the bedrooms.




Bradley took the opportunity to grab the keys from the living room, and quickly unlocked the front door, leaving it ajar before running back towards the bedrooms to find you.




The door to his room was now closed, but neither you nor Angie were in sight. He tried the door handle but the door was locked.




“Y/N?” He called, panicked, wiggling the handle as hard as he could.




Suddenly a scream from inside the bedroom echoed through the house, so loud and shrill it made Bradley’s blood run cold.




He threw his body against the door once, twice, and the third time the door flew open.




Bradley stood and stared at the scene unfolding before him, before a ringing in his hears took over his senses and he dropped to his knees.




——————————

Fatal Attraction vibes much?

- Final Part Coming Soon -

Taglist:

@dizzybee03 @cheyrenee @flowery-mess @wildxwidow @residentb1tch @championemmie @mycrofthomlesumbrella @sydneejean @milegonzalez96 @minnie-rae

[moonandst4rs]

"Stay with me, I don't want you to leave"

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Part two of "Think I like you best when you're just with me, And no one else"

Warnings: Angst, fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader x Dean Winchester,

A/N: Inspired by K. - Cigarettes after sex. Any feedback and requests are welcome !! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You tried to let it go. You truly did, but the pain of your situation was agonizing. The more you ignored it, the more it broke you down.

In a moment of bravery, you gathered the courage. "Why do you treat me differently when we're with other people?" you asked softly, your eyes fixed on the window of the rundown motel room. Your gaze drifted to the moon, as if willing it to hide you. You saw the tension creep into Dean's body. "What?" he whispered, his hand freezing on your arm.

"When we're with Sam, or Cas, or even Bobby, you're different… distant," you continued, searching for the truth behind the distance. "Is it me? Are you ashamed of us?" The words trembled on the edge of your lips, the fear of hearing the answer almost unbearable.

For a moment, he was silent—surprisingly so. You could see him wrestling with something deep inside. He took a slow breath, then turned to look into your eyes, his gaze searching yours for something you couldn’t name. Finally, he spoke. "It’s not you, sweetheart," he said, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, his lips lingering there just a second longer than usual. "Don’t start thinking you’re the problem."

His words were comforting, but you still needed more. You couldn't walk away without understanding. "Then what is the problem, Dean?" you pressed, searching his face for the truth. "You can tell me. I won’t judge you." You lowered your voice, a soft plea for him to let his guard down.

"It’s just… I don’t…" His voice faltered, the emotions he usually kept buried creeping into his words. You waited patiently, knowing he needed time. His hesitation didn’t frustrate you; it only made you wish he’d be easier on himself. You knew the weight he carried. You wanted him to share it, not hold it alone.

"I’m not good at this, okay?" he admitted, the words slipping out, raw and vulnerable. "I don’t know how to be in a real relationship. When it’s just us, it’s easy. But when we’re around them, I feel like I gotta keep it together. Like if I let my guard down, something bad’s gonna happen. I’m scared, alright? Scared of what they’ll think, scared of messing this up, scared of losing you." His voice softened, and for the first time, you saw his eyes unguarded, full of honesty. "It’s not that I don’t care. I care too much. I just don’t know how to show it without feeling like I’m risking everything."

His words hit you hard. You’d been waiting for him to open up, and now, here it was. You took his hand gently, grounding him in the moment. "Dean," you said softly, "I understand. I know you’re trying to protect us, but I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to hide your feelings from me. I love you, walls and rough edges and all. But this distance? It hurts." You searched his eyes, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "I want us to be real, even around Sam and Cas. Even when things are tough. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and we’re in this together. But you have to let me in." You squeezed his hand, your heart pounding in your chest. "I don’t want to feel like I’m losing you when we're around other people. I need all of you, not just the parts you think are safe."

"I don’t know how to let my guard down," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes met yours, filled with uncertainty. "I’ve spent so long protecting myself, keeping people at a distance. It’s hard to imagine anyone sticking around when the walls come down." He exhaled sharply, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "But you’re right. You deserve more than what I’ve been giving you. You deserve all of me." He paused, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let the walls fall, just a little. "I’ll work on it. I’ll try to be better for you… for us. I want to try." His thumb brushed your hand, a rare, tender gesture. "You mean too much to me not to."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet promise that he was here and ready to open up, ready to let you in.