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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t�� Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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mercurygguk · 2 years

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if it’s not you · kth (m)

↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; 8,582

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff

warnings; making out, dirty talk, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, possessive/jealous and slightly insecure taetae <3

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; it’s here!!!! the taehyung fic i’ve been wanting to write for SO long ughhhdjsk i really hope you like it and that you enjoy it despite all the hurt and angst heh – please let me know what you think! comment, reblog, send me an ask – whatever you feel most comfortable with!! everything is greatly appreciated <3 thank you sm for reading muah

ps. a big thank you to @kookingtae once again for beta-ing for me and for helping me brainstorm for the smut scene <33 ur the best ily thank you for your support and help!

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when he’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he didn’t realize though when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this until you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?

In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love someone with just half a heart.

Not when someone else has the other half.

“Hey, isn’t that ____?”

Taehyung is pulled from his thoughts by Jimin, his best friend since high school and the only person who would be able to recognize his ex-girlfriend from miles away – even after two years have gone by.

“Yep,” Taehyung curtly replies and brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip. The heavy, dark taste of whiskey burns his throat on the way down but he welcomes it, suddenly in desperate need of feeling something that isn’t the tug on the strings of his half heart.

Jimin’s face scrunches up in confusion, “who’s the guy?”

I don’t know, Jimin. Does it look like I’ve stayed in touch with her since she walked out on me? Do you think she’d be across the room, in another man’s embrace, if I had stayed in touch with her?

Instead of saying that, Taehyung shrugs ‘carelessly’ and takes another sip of his drink, eyes following you as you and your date move towards the newly-engaged couple.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You look so different and yet the exact same.

Every move of your body and expression on your face twist in the most beautiful, hypnotizing way as always. Your hair is shorter, he notices, but it suits you. You’re glowing from across the room and your smile lights up the entire apartment when you throw your head back in laughter.

It travels across the room and reaches Taehyung’s ears, cutting straight through the music flowing from the stereo. The pretty sound causes his chest to fill with a familiar warmth. Except this time it isn’t him who’s on the receiving end of your smile and gentle touch; your date is. As much as it bothers him, Taehyung can’t stop watching you as you talk with the hosts, wishing them congratulations on their engagement, and handing them the gift you brought along. And then you introduce the man next to you, a bright smile on your face as you watch them shake hands.

Something vile rises within Taehyung at the sight. He knows he has no right to feel like this but something about the way you’re introducing this random guy to you and Taehyung’s shared friends doesn’t sit right with him. It used to be you and him, attending every get-together together. You always arrived hand in hand, all smiles and good vibes because nothing could stop the two of you from touching each other, from being attached at all times – from being in love.

“Jia didn’t mention anything about a new boyfriend,” Jimin mutters from next to Taehyung. The annoyed glare he shoots at his best friend causes Jimin to shrug innocently, “I mean – I think, of all people, she would know if ____ was seeing someone.”

Jia is a shared friend between you and Jimin. While Jia is one of your best friends, Jia and Jimin are more than friends but not quite enough to be considered a couple. They will get there eventually – Jimin just needs to get his head out of his own ass and ask the poor girl on a date instead of only showing up at her doorstep for some fun in bed. Jia is waiting patiently for him to make the next move but Jimin isn’t that smart when it comes to serious relationships.

“Don’t you have something else to do rather than talking my ear off about my ex and her date?”

The bitterness on Taehyung’s tongue feels odd but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen you once in two years after you left that night and now you’re here, looking beautiful as ever with another man by your side.

Jealousy has never been something Taehyung cared much for. He never had a reason to but as you let your date wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer, the jealousy washes away every rational thought he’s had since he saw you walk through the door.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath before he disappears from Taehyung’s side, leaving him to stand there while rolling the glass of whiskey in his hand, dark and glaring eyes shooting daggers at the man you brought along tonight.

However, it seems his glare from across the room also grazes you as you turn your head to look around. Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when your eyes meet his and he can tell you let out a gasp once you realize just who exactly you’re locking eyes with. Your date asks you if something’s wrong and you shake your head in response, telling him it’s nothing.

Taehyung’s body heats up with a familiar tingling feeling that feels all too normal and yet it’s a strange sensation. He hasn’t felt what he just felt in two years, the different women he’s slept with or been out with have never once caused warmth and excitement to spread through his entire body as the ones he just felt. Not a single woman has managed to trigger Taehyung’s interest in more than just a one-night-stand.

But, of course, it’s you.

Who else would light a fire in his soul but the same woman who blew it out a few years ago?

The irony almost makes Taehyung huff out an unimpressed chuckle. He fights it and pushes it back but it's no use as you decide to raise your hand and give him a small wave, a hesitant smile on your lips as you do. Taehyung lets the chuckle leave him, shaking his head in disbelief, watching your smile falter into a soft frown.

You left him.

You walked out of the door two years ago and dropped off earth’s surface until tonight. Taehyung only knew you were alive and well thanks to social media and your circle of shared friends, not that it was much help. His so-called friends weren't very cooperative every time he’d ask about you. Especially when he would visit Jimin and Jia would be there – that woman kept all the news about you behind locked lips whenever Taehyung was around.

So, when it really comes down to it, Taehyung has no idea what you've been doing for two years. All he knows is that you went overseas to live and work there, making the distance between you and him bigger than he’d expected when he watched you walk out of the home you once shared. Taehyung doesn’t understand why you bolted out of the country as soon as you could – what you went looking for, he doesn’t know. Probably no one knows – except for your parents maybe.

All Taehyung is hoping for is that he wasn’t the reason.

Thoughts like ‘how long have you been seeing this guy’ and ‘did you even think about me once while you were overseas, living a brand new life’ fill Taehyung’s head as he downs the rest of his drink. He steals one last glance at you, catching your eyes for a split-second before heading towards the kitchen of this penthouse apartment he currently finds himself in. He can feel your eyes on him as he slips his way through other guests but he keeps his own eyes focused on the whiskey bottle he spots on the kitchen island.

Once he reaches it, he uncaps it and pours himself another glass. He takes a swig of the brown liquor, sighing deeply as he feels the strong and burning sensation in his throat.

“Slow down there, tiger.”

Taehyung freezes in his spot, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips to take another slurp when a familiar voice fills the kitchen. His chest tightens for a split-second before he turns around to face the person he’s been thinking about non-stop since she left.

You’re flashing a smile at him when he turns around, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes as your real smile would. He notices because he always notices. It’s one of the many things you can’t hide from him. No matter how much you try to plaster on a fake smile, he’ll always know when it’s real or not.

When he doesn’t reply to your teasing comment, you pull your lips into a thin line as you cautiously step closer.

He can’t stop staring at you.

When you left your shared home two years ago on the worst night of Taehyung’s life, he had no idea when he would see you again. Back then he had hoped you’d regret your choice of moving out and come back to him, tell him that you made a mistake, that not being with him was the only thing you couldn’t get yourself to do.

But it never happened – and two years passed.

“How have you been?” You ask, voice small and careful as if you’re afraid he’ll scream at you and throw all his pent up anger at you as the first thing.

Taehyung finally manages to take his eyes off you, shifting them to look at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls the liquid around a few times before looking up again, a faint and slightly sad smile on his face.

“Okay,” he responds. “Given the circumstances, that is.”

He can tell that you know exactly what he means, the frown on your face giving it away. It makes a short chuckle leave his lips because it’s kind of comical how you haven’t seen each other in two years and the first time you meet again is at an engagement party – the type of party you were both so sure you’d throw sooner or later had it not been for the fact that the universe wanted it differently.

“You brought a date,” Taehyung breaks the silence hanging over you.

Your lips part in surprise. You did not expect your ex-boyfriend to ask about your date, but then again, you should’ve seen it coming.

“Uh, yeah, he’s–” you begin, not sure what or where to start. Taehyung watches you intently, curious to hear your response. You feel a strong urge to explain yourself to him, why you don’t know. “It’s nothing serious– it’s very new, so…”

“I see,” Taehyung hums and takes another sip of his whiskey, the alcohol still burning and strong on his tongue.

“Hey, about–,” you begin but the shake of Taehyung’s head causes you to stay quiet.

“We don’t have to do that,” he simply says. You frown deeply as he glances over your shoulder at your date. “I’m over it and it seems you are too.”

“But–”

“It’s good to see you again, ____.”

With that Taehyung grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey off the table and leaves the kitchen, a breath of relief escaping him. It’s gonna take a lot of alcohol to get through tonight with you being in the same room, so close yet so far – not his to touch or hold, the only thing that is his are the memories of doing exactly that in the past.

And nothing has ever left a more bitter taste in his mouth before.

As the party carries on, Taehyung has been drinking more whiskey. He’s not drunk per say but he’s definitely tipsy and it shows as he stands in a corner alongside Jimin and Namjoon. He’s not paying attention to their conversation, too busy watching you and your date mingling.

Taehyung is not much for admitting it but he’s been keeping an eye on your date all night, watching how he acts around you. He’s not afraid to touch you, that’s for sure, the constant placement of his hand on your lower back is a giveaway. However, he hasn’t seen the two of you kiss or anything of the sort ever since you arrived. It’s odd because, of all people, Taehyung knows that you’re not one to shy away from PDA. You were never big on it but you never despised it either.

“Tae, stop staring,” Jimin’s voice penetrates his focused thoughts. Taehyung tears his eyes from you to look at his best friend. Jimin gives him a look, one he can’t help but laugh at. Taehyung pushes himself up from his leaning position against the wall, standing to his full height. Jimin grabs his arm. “I’m serious, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Relax,” Taehyung smirks. “I’m just gonna introduce myself, that’s it.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink, “sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Exactly,” Jimin pointedly agrees with him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Taehyung shrugs off Jimin’s hand, shooting his friends a glare, “I’m not gonna ruin anything.”

Before his friends can try and talk him out of it again, he wanders off towards you and your date – a dark-haired guy who seems friendly, boring even, and nothing like the type of guy Taehyung had imagined you’d go for.

You don’t notice Taehyung’s presence until he’s standing right next to you, offering a hand to your date. Your eyes widen in surprise, eyes shifting between your ex-boyfriend, his offered hand and your date for the night. You can’t help the small sliver of panic within your chest as you watch them interact.

“Hey man, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he greets him, “I’m Taehyung.”

“Jinyoung,” your date replies, giving Taehyung’s hand a weak shake without much thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Taehyung smirks, eyeing Jinyoung up and down for a moment, wondering where on earth you managed to run into this guy and why you thought of bringing him to your friends’ engagement party. The majority of the people here know you and once this guy isn’t part of your life anymore, you’ll spend your energy explaining why at the next event.

“Taehyung is, um…” You begin, turning to Jinyoung to provide some information as to why he would suddenly come over and introduce himself like this. “He’s my, uh–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung finishes for you. He watches in satisfaction as Jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, the faint hints of intimidation evident in them. “We broke up two years ago.”

“Oh, well, I had no idea there was an… ex-boyfriend,” Jinyoung trails off, glancing at you in confusion.

Your attention, however, is aimed at Taehyung, “Tae, can we talk–”

“Did you know ____ fled the country after breaking up with me?” Taehyung lets out a sarcastic laugh, watching how Jinyoung almost squirms in discomfort. Bet he didn’t sign up for a meeting with the ex-boyfriend when he said yes to join you tonight. “Is that where she met you or?”

Your jaw tightens as you place a hand on Taehyung’s arm, catching his attention. He glances at your hand and then you, eyes meeting yours. He notices the desperation in them, the grip you have on his arm.

“Can I talk to you under four eyes? Now, please.”

He smiles at you, a tipsy smile but endearing nonetheless.

“Absolutely,” he tells you before glancing back at Jinyoung. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Jinyoung looks confused and awkward as Taehyung flashes him a fake smile before allowing himself to be dragged away by you. It isn’t until you’re in a secluded corner of your friends’ penthouse, you let go of his arm. Taehyung leans against the wall, a small smirk on his face as you stare at him for a moment before your face morphs into disbelief.

“What the hell was that all about?”

He shrugs, “I was just introducing myself.”

You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, “oh, is that what it was? How silly of me to think you were trying to measure your dick with his!”

He huffs out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t have to and you know it.”

Your mouth falls open at his cocky behavior. Whoever this man in front of you is, you don’t know him. He is not the man you broke up with two years ago, he’s not even a shadow of the man you were hopelessly in love with once.

Taehyung watches your expression fall as if realization hits you square in the face. His ego covers it up perfectly but it hurts seeing the realization on your face, his heart sinking to his stomach as he realizes himself what you just realized –neither of you are the same people you were two years ago. And for some reason that realization hurts more than he thought it would because change is supposed to be good, right?

“Maybe breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake after all,” you tell him, eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. Taehyung frowns as the words leave your lips. “You’re an asshole.”

“____, I–”

You shake your head before turning on your heel, heading back to Jinyoung who’s been watching the two of you with worried eyes. Taehyung catches Jinyoung’s gaze over your shoulder, the judgemental look he shoots at him bruising his ego. However, the sight of your hand slipping into Jinyoung’s bruises his heart as he watches you and your date bid the engaged couple goodbye before leaving the penthouse.

Hand in hand.

Loud knocking wakes Taehyung up the following morning. He squints an eye open, the bright light coming from the morning sun hitting him straight in the face. He lets out a low groan, dropping his head back into the softness of his pillows. He forgot to pull the curtains when he came home last night. It happens too often after a night out – a bad habit, really.

The knocking disappears for a moment before it returns, more persistent this time around. With a sigh, Taehyung gets himself out of bed, slipping on a t-shirt and sweatpants before sauntering towards his front door.

Who in the world could be rapping their knuckles on his door this early on a sunday morning?

He glances towards the kitchen, eyes squinting to read the red numbers on the oven. His eyebrows lift in surprise. It’s not morning anymore, it’s past noon and someone is very persistent on the other side of the door. Once he reaches the door, he sneaks a peek through the peephole, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes who’s on the other side. His forehead connects with the surface of the door as a low ‘fuck’ leaves his lips.

Inhaling sharply, he grabs the door handle and pulls the door open.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

Taehyung sees no point in greeting you first, the question flying from his mouth before he can process it properly. He’s surprised to see you on his doorstep after what happened at the engagement party last night. When he came home and plopped into his bed, he had been thinking about whether or not he should seek you out to talk things through. He never got the chance to think further about it before sleep overtook and pulled him under.

“We need to talk,” you tell him, pushing past him, shoulder bumping his.

Taehyung closes the door after you before following you further into his home. You stand by his bookshelf, several feet away from him. He watches you as you look around, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants to keep them from feeling restless.

“How do you know where I live?” He decides to ask after a moment of intense silence.

You turn to face him from your new spot by the big window, the view from it being of a park with endless rows of trees and bushes, the colors of them ranging from green to brown to orange to yellow.

“Jimin told me,” you tell him, “but that’s not important – what the hell was your problem last night?”

Taehyung shrugs, “nothing… I was just introducing myself.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your pretty lips, a look of amusement on your face.

“Bullshit, Tae,” you protest. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and you pull a stunt like that? It’s not like you.”

He can’t help but scoff.

Not like him?

It’s not like him to spend two years watching women come and go in his home. It’s not like him to let the woman he loves leave him and not do shit about it for two years. It’s not like him to not care about love at all. It’s not like him to lose all faith and belief in the great love of his life but he did and it’s your fault. You made him what he is today. You up and left, leaving him because ‘things weren’t the way they used to be’. He accepted what you wanted because you were so certain that was what you wanted at the time. He shouldn’t have but he did because he loved you and he’d rather love you from a distance than keep you in a place that didn’t make you happy.

Blaming you isn’t right but it’s always easier to blame someone else than yourself.

“I pulled a stunt?” The anger that’s starting to boil within him laces within his voice as he moves closer. Your eyes are locked with his as he slowly moves across the room, nearing you. “You’re the one who brought a fucking date, _____! You knew I would be there and yet you thought ‘hey, let me bring a date and introduce him to everyone there while my ex is in the same fucking room’!”

You let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s been two years, Taehyung! For all I know, you could’ve brought someone too!”

The frustration is seeping through his veins as he steps closer, only a few feet from you at this point. You’re close and he can touch you if he just reaches his hands out to you but you’ve never felt farther away. Had he known two years ago that it would come to this, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of the door that night. He would’ve fought for you, told you that you would figure things out together. That he would do his utmost best to make you happy – no matter the sacrifices he would have to make.

“Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been for the past two years? Do you know how many times I’ve asked about you only to get no answers from anyone?”

The guilt is evident on your face as he takes the risk and steps even closer. He can feel the warmth radiating off your body now, the close proximity doing nothing to calm his thundering heart.

“Have you ever, just for a second, thought about how fucking hard it’s been after you left and fled the fucking country?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t–”

Taehyung can’t fight the dry laugh leaving him, “I begged you to stay, ____. I was begging you but you left anyway and for what?”

He watches as you shrug helplessly, mouth opening and closing while you try to decipher what to say, how to explain. He would appreciate an explanation – ‘things aren’t the way they used to be’ isn’t enough anymore.

“I… I had some stuff I needed to figure out,” you mutter.

“We could’ve figured it out together!” He argues, hands thrown out in pure frustration.

The shake of your head has Taehyung frowning deeply. You look away, unable to watch the way his face falls as the words leave your lips, “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. I had to leave. It was what was best for us back then–”

“No,” he mutters, voice soft and filled with sorrow, “you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

You feel him step back, taking his warmth with him. He sits down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as an exasperated sigh leaves his chest. You cross your arms over your chest; the act doing nothing to comfort yourself but doing enough to keep yourself warm after he removed himself from right in front of you.

Unsure, what to do, you sit down on the window pane, watching the man you used to be inseparable from. He looks tired and not because you forced him out of bed by knocking on his door. He looks like the past two years have been nothing but hell for him – and you believe it. Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done but it was necessary in order to find yourself.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” you quietly tell him, eyes dropping to look at the wooden floor instead of him.

You feel his eyes on you, heavy and filled with longing, hurt and love.

“I knew you’d never let me go if I told you everything,” you continue when he stays silent. “I lost myself, Tae… And I knew as long as I wasn’t at peace with myself, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way you deserved.”

You take a chance and look up, your eyes meeting his in an instant. You feel your heart skip a beat, a pain so strong it’s almost unbearable shooting through your body. Taehyung’s eyes are glossy as he watches you make your way to where he sits on the couch. You kneel in front of him, your hands finding his in a weak attempt to comfort him but you know nothing could possibly remove the two years of pain and anger he’s been through.

He stays quiet, eyes skimming your face as you sit in front of him.

“Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” you softly tell him and feel a tightness in your throat. You bite back the tears but your voice betrays you as you speak up again. “And while… While trying to figure my shit out, I realized that you and I–”

Taehyung’s hands engulf yours, fingers slipping through yours to intertwine them. Pain is etched onto his face as you sniffle, one of his hands reaching up to wipe away the one teardrop that managed to escape just now.

“I realized that you and I were the only thing in my life that actually made sense but it was too late.”

“Baby…” Taehyung begins, the nickname leaving him before he can think about it and the appropriateness of it.

You shake your head, “I left you, Tae. I left and, like you said, I fled the country like a coward when all I had to do was talk to the people around me and find another way.”

The tears won’t stop coming at this point and it’s then Taehyung realizes that it was never about him. It has always been about you and how you felt; not your feelings for him but for yourself. If only you had talked to him, reached out to him and asked for help – he would’ve stepped in and done whatever it would take to make you happy again.

“I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” you cry, the sheer realization of just how much unnecessary pain you’ve caused him seems like the worst thing you ever could’ve done. You hurt the man you love and now it’s hurting you – well-deserved one might say. “God, you must hate me so much.”

“No, hey,” Taehyung calls softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears away. You look up at him, tear-filled eyes meeting his glossy ones. He smiles at you through the build-up tears in his dark brown eyes. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“But–”

He shakes his head, “sure, I’m pissed at you for leaving. But I could never hate you, _____.”

The way he says it with such tenderness and softness makes your bottom lip quiver, fresh tears coming to the surface but it’s not an issue – Taehyung wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, smiling softly at you. Why he’s comforting you rather than kicking you out of his home is a mystery to you, one you probably won’t ever solve. But you’ll take it, the feeling of his hands touching you again similar to the feeling of finally drinking water again after spending days in the desert. Or when you finally get to sleep after a really, really long and stressful day.

Comforting. Healing. Loving.

“I’m sorry,” you softly say, voice so quiet and soft as if the atmosphere would break into a million pieces if you spoke any louder. Your heart is beating hard, thundering at 110 miles per hour. Taehyung is leaning closer, a magnetic pull between him and you causing him to do so. It’s impossible to stay away, especially after you sat down in front of him.

Taehyung huffs out a soft chuckle, the air brushing your lips. He whispers, “stop apologizing.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, causing Taehyung to let another chuckle escape before softly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

The world stops spinning and your heart stops beating for a second, the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on yours so familiar you might start crying again. It’s like returning home after years of chaotic traveling, the familiarity of it so comforting and perfect. You sigh deeply, melting against him, hands gripping his forearms as if to support yourself. Then a soft moan escapes you and Taehyung tilts his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping inside and touching yours, warm and wet and so addicting.

In need of more, you get up and push him back on the couch. He welcomes you onto his lap, pulling you closer, hands gripping your waist tightly, fingertips digging into your sides. The kisses you share are soft, passionate, and filled with words and affection you’ve kept inside for two years. Things you never got to say and affection you never got to show – all of it being poured into the kisses, deep and scorching hot.

Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him so close your noses are squishes together. He moans against your lips when your hips sink down on him, grinding against him. He feels himself grow harder, blood rushing to his cock in seconds as you continue your movements.

“Tae…” You whimper softly when his hands slide underneath your top, warm palms sliding over the expanse of your back, nails digging into your skin. “Need you– please…”

In reality, you’re not his to touch and kiss. You haven’t been for two years. When this weekend is over, you’ll both go back to your everyday lives, return to reality – realities where neither of you are in each other’s.

“What about Jinyoung?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“He went back home this morning,” you tell him, your words causing a sliver of hope to appear in Taehyung’s chest. You smile softly, fingers playing with the curly strands of black hair at the back of his neck. You shrug with a sigh, “he asked about us, I told him the truth. He left.”

“What truth?”

The question is careful but Taehyung needs to know.

“That I’m still in love with you,” you quietly admit.

If you can’t feel the harsh beating of Taehyung’s heart, you surely must be able to hear it. It’s pounding against his rib cage, making it hard for him to breathe as he stares at you. A million thoughts are running through his mind but the only thing he can focus on is the overwhelming urge to kiss you like the world is ending, worship you and make up for lost time.

“I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me for what I did,” you softly say. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance to-“

Taehyung cuts you off by crashing his mouth to yours; desperate, needy, eager and rushed. A whimpering moan escapes you and travels into his mouth, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the pretty sound.

“I forgive you,” he says between kisses as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders. You help him get rid of it, lips never leaving his as you continue to kiss. You have two years to catch up on – two years equals a lot of kisses and a lot of making love. You inhale deeply when he pulls away, hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. His eyes stare into yours, dark and filled with so many emotions you can barely keep track. “Don’t make me regret it.”

You shake your head, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” he whispers before pulling you back in for more, unable to stop for long.

The next clothing items to go are your top and his t-shirt as you tug it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor along with your jacket. Taehyung lets out a breathless moan against your mouth when you slide your hands up his abdomen, fingertips brushing over his chest and nipples. He groans as your nails dig into his skin, hands tightly gripping onto your thighs in a wordless response.

“Lay down,” he tells you, voice raspy from making out.

With one last soft kiss to his lips, you do as told. You lay down on the couch, watching him as he gets up on his feet, getting rid of his sweatpants. His eyes roam your body, grazing your skin and curves, taking it all in while feeling a wave of memories washing over him. It brings a feeling he can’t quite pinpoint to his chest, heart tightening as you offer him a soft smile.

Home.

That’s what he feels.

He finally feels at home again after two years of feeling like he didn’t belong in this new apartment of his; an apartment he found a few months after you left. He couldn’t stand being in the one you used to share because it didn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s when you sit up on the couch, your hand reaching for his to bring him back to you, that he realizes that no place will ever feel like home unless you’re there.

You’re his home – he belongs with you.

And you belong with him.

“Come back to me,” you whisper softly when he crawls onto the couch, hovering over you. His eyes shift between yours, three words he hasn’t said out loud to anyone but you at the tip of his tongue. “Tae…–”

“I love you.”

Your words get trapped in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest as the three magical words bring a new kind of warmth to your entire body.

“I love you too.”

The rest is a blur – the way he kisses you deeply and passionately like it’s the last time, the sound of your pretty moans reaching his ears like a melody he’ll never get tired of, the feeling of his hands on your body, caressing you, taking you in and remembering everything about you; every dip and curve of your body. Every uneven texture of your skin, every dimple and small spot that makes you you.

“You’re mine,” he rasps against your chest as he trails it with kisses, your bra no longer covering you, giving him free access to all of you. His lips brush your nipple, another delicate moan escaping your lips at the feeling. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

“Yes– Oh my god,” You gasp, surprise shooting through you as he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking. Your back arches into him as one of his hands cups the other breast, squeezing and caressing it in the most caring way possible.

That’s the thing about Taehyung – he can be rough both verbally and physically but he knows how you like it and he never strays far away from it. He’ll caress your body and worship it like you’re a goddess while arousing you with his words, dirty words falling from his lips without a struggle. It’s the perfect mix of everything; the best of both worlds basically.

You whimper softly when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before letting go, leaving it wet and swollen as he moves further down your naked body. Your legs spread automatically when he reaches your core, his mouth hovering above your heat as he glances up at you. A small smirk spreads across his face as he watches you run your hands over your stomach and all the way up to cup your own breasts. You bite your lip, eyes closed as you await his touch.

“Tell me, baby,” he hums, leaving a soft kiss on your hip bone. “Did you miss this?”

You hum in response, fingers pinching your nipples as you feel his breath on your core.

“Words,” he reminds you, “I need your words.”

Your eyes peep open to glance down at him, the sight of him between your legs, messy and curly hair and swollen, plump lips twisted into a teasing smirk enough to cause you to let out a soft moan.

“Yes,” you tell him, breathlessly. “I missed you, missed your touch– please, Tae…”

The sound of you begging for him to touch you causes a feeling of pride to fill his entire body, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. He hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss to your folds. You whimper softly, the hints of whine following.

“I’ll be honest,” the air from his words brushes your soaked core, a shiver running through your body. His hands tighten around your thighs as he brings them over his shoulders to pull you closer to his face. “I missed having you like this, too.”

Before you can even think of a response to his confession, his mouth is on you. You gasp in surprise, hands reaching for him to grab his hair, the couch, his hand – anything. Taehyung offers one of his hands, locking it with yours. Your fingers slip between his, your grip tight as he eats you out, his tongue licking your folds. You’re whimpering above him, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit over and over again before he sucks it causing your moans to become higher and more whiny as he works you closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry, thighs trembling as you feel your orgasm coming. Taehyung keeps your legs spread open with his free hand, his grip on you so strong you’re unable to escape the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm. “Tae, I’m close– fuckfuckfuck–”

An immense wave of pleasure washes over you, a guttural moan leaving your pretty lips as you tumble over the edge, abdomen tightening as you come. Taehyung moans against you as he continues to help you through it, licking up your juices, the slurping noises lewd and explicit enough to bring a heat to your face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, a smile on your face as Taehyung crawls back up. You sigh deeply as he leans down and presses a row of kisses onto your jaw and cheek, one of his hands sliding up your thigh.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, face inches from yours as his eyes meet yours.

You nod, smiling, “I feel great.”

He smiles softly as he leans down, connecting his mouth with yours. You’re able to taste yourself on his tongue as it brushes yours, the taste arousing and dirty but so hot, you might lose your mind.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groans as he grinds against you, the only thing keeping him from slipping inside being his boxers. His cock twitches in its confinements, eager to be let free, eager to be buried deeply within your warmth. “Wanna make love to you, baby– show you how much I’ve missed you…”

“Do it, Tae,” you urge him on, hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers, “show me.”

With his help, you manage to free his hard cock, his boxers ending up on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your hand wraps around his length, a soft groan escaping his lips as he drops his head to your shoulder. You pump him a few times before guiding the tip to your entrance, softly gasping when you feel it nested between your folds.

Taehyung takes over, replacing your hand with his own. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, lips catching his in a kiss. He takes this as his chance to slip inside, pushing against your entrance until he’s past your folds. You both moan against each other’s mouth as he sinks inside, the length and girth of him stretching you out. He moves slowly, sliding further inside inch after inch, carefully.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans once he bottoms out, every inch of him engulfed by your warm walls. His breathing is ragged as he stays still for a moment. “I’ll never get used to this.”

You smile at his comment, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Well, you better,” you tell him. “Because this time it’s forever.”

His heart skips a beat in his chest before he huffs out a strained laugh, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making it difficult for him to get words out.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

You shrug and smirks playfully, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a challenging promise.”

He scoffs in amusement but doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back inside of you, hard and precise. The action leaves you gasping, back arching as he hits a sweet spot within you. He continues the action, pulling out and thrusting back in over and over again, fucking you hard but slow, his shaft brushing against your clit for every thrust.

“Fuck– feels good,” you whimper as he hooks a hand underneath your leg to change the angle of his thrusts. Your mouth falls open as he slides in even deeper, his tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He watches you nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you suppress a moan. “Did he ever have you like this, huh? Did he ever make you feel like this?”

Taehyung knows expecting you to not have been with anyone since you broke up is a long stretch. The only thing that bothers him is if you’ve been with the one man he met and talked to last night. The thought of you and him together brings a bitter taste to his mouth and he just needs you to deny it.

The sudden possessive tone of his words has your heart beating faster. He doesn’t have to mention any name for you to know who he’s referring to. Like you said when you first talked to Taehyung at the party, you and Jinyoung’s relationship was nothing serious, very new and not intimate at all. You had barely kissed him properly – something held you back every time it would take a turn into something more.

The look in Taehyung’s eyes tells you he needs to know. He needs to know if you ever gave that part of yourself to Jinyoung.

“No,” you tell him, keeping eye contact as you answer him, hoping it’ll give him the peace of mind that he needs. Taehyung’s face softens as he lets his forehead drop to yours, his breath clashing against your face. You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his jawline where faint stubble is starting to appear. “He didn’t.”

The relief that runs through Taehyung’s body is evident in his kiss as he connects his mouth with yours, his free hand reaching up to grab one of yours. He intertwines your hands, bringing it above your head as he returns to the task at hand – getting you both to the edge.

The constant touch of his tip to a certain spot within you has you reaching another orgasm faster than you’re prepared for. It washes over you in huge waves, running through your body with such force your walls tighten around him. Taehyung moans deeply, his thrusts becoming uneven as he, too, reaches his high. Soft words of encouragement reach his ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. Your fingers slide into his thick, black hair while your other hand tightens its grip around his.

He lowly groans as he stills within you, spurts of hot and white cum painting your walls as he comes, “shit–”

Hours later you’re watching Taehyung’s fingers play with yours as he holds your hand up in the air, both of you watching it as a comfortable silence surrounds you. It’s nice – to be cuddled up with him again after so long. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until you saw him last night. But despite the blissful atmosphere, there’s still an underlying tension of something that you need to talk about. Whether it’s your guilt for leaving or his regret for not fighting more is unknown.

“I wish I could go back in time,” you suddenly break the silence.

“Why do you say that?”

Taehyung brings your hand down, intertwining them instead as he leaves them to lay on top of the blanket covering your naked bodies. You continue to stare at your intertwined hands, wondering how it’s possible to match so perfectly with someone only for you to leave for two years despite them being where you belong.

“I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

Taehyung stays quiet for a moment before speaking up, “you can’t change the past, baby.”

His voice is delicate and soft, comforting.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just hate that I caused you so much pain. It was unnecessary and uncalled for. I should’ve just talked to you about it instead.”

“I think a lot of things could’ve been avoided if we had just talked about it but like I said… You can’t change the past,” he carefully grabs your chin to make you look at him. “Besides, we found our way back, right? We got a second chance at this, at us. Let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

A smile spreads across your face as you lean up and kiss him, the kiss soft yet deep and filled with the things you still haven’t said; apologies, I love you’s, promises and everything in between.

Taehyung sighs deeply against your lips, cupping your face, “I missed kissing you.”

You can’t help but grin against his mouth, “keep doing it then.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he tells you, a squeal escaping you as he rolls over, trapping you beneath him. He dips down and kisses you again, this time with more force and eagerness.

That great love in life that everyone keeps talking about is really not worth much if it’s not with the right person. Taehyung used to believe that there was only one true love for everyone. Two years ago, he lost all belief in that. There was no point in looking for that great, true love because he already had it and he lost it. And even if there is more than one true love for everyone, he wouldn’t want it if it’s not you.

It seems his beliefs have been restored.

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adreamemporium · 5 months

Note

Hi! Since you saw Ewan at CCXF and outside of it, I wanna ask if you think Ewan loves fan saying hi to him or he only did it to be polite? Also is there anything else you can share about your meeting with Ewan?

I’ve also seen some people on here saying that they think Ewan looked uncomfortable at times at CCXF. Whats your thoughts on that?

Hi, nonnie!

About your last question, I couldn’t see anything because I was behind them so all I could see was their back lol. Also the audio wasn’t great and with all the screaming I couldn’t hear anything. I thought everything was going well because all their managers and their team were behind them and they were smiling. I already saw the interview on YouTube and I think the whole thing was messy and cringe, the questions weren’t that interesting, that guy saying Mexican women would love to keep him in their homes… So as a whole, that was a mess. Minutes later I saw him in the thunder stage and he was relaxed, so I don’t think there was a problem after that. What I think is that he is way more calm when you are talking alone with him and that’s the real Ewan. He does an incredible job on stage, but we shouldn’t get fool, he has a reserved personality.

About the rest of your ask, have in mind that I’m again talking based on what I experienced, I would say he truly loves saying hi to the fans. We have to consider that we are talking about the same guy that takes the time to send little messages to his fans when he receives fan mail.

The first time I saw him I was working and he was doing press, so the two times I talked with him were brief and it was just a kinda random talk lol it was when he told me he needed a hat for the sun. That day I mostly saw him work while I was doing my own.

The second time I met him he recognized me and smiled to me, so I said hi and it was when he made room for me to sit down at his side. We talked for a few minutes (although I felt it was for hours lol) about how different book!Aemond is to the show version and I told him I loved what he and Leo did with the character and they were the reason Aemond was my favorite character cuz when I read the book he wasn’t my fav. He simply smiled and thanked me for what I was saying. I told him I had a fanart and that it would mean the world to me if he could signed it and he took the time to admired it before doing it and see the details.

But I think what I will treasure the most (apart from having one of my Aemond designs autographed) will be when I gave him the dragon egg I made for him. I explained to him that I’m a dragon fan since I was little and that back during got s1 I couldn’t find the dragon eggs to buy them, so I made them. While I was saying all of that he was attentively looking at me and listening, so when I started to take the egg out of my purse he started to realize what I was gonna give him and had a huge smile when he saw the little green egg and simply excitedly exclaimed “Vhagar!”. I swear he looked like a little kid with a toy, he took it and started to see all the details, asked me how long it took me and then he told me “You’re a legend!” and hugged me. I swear to god I wasn’t expecting it and almost died in that moment. His manager asked me if I wanted a picture and he quickly said yes because he wanted to show the egg, so she kindly took it, we talked for a few more minutes and then he asked me if I was going to be at ccxp, I said yes and he told me he hoped to see me there and then we said goodbye. And that was it. 🥹

I swear to god he is everything the rest of the cast have said he is: the loveliest person ever, a complete angel, super gentle, incredible thoughtful, kind, a fantastic human being… and I have just quoted Elliot Grihault, Harry Collet, Tom Glynn Carney and Fabien Frankel only.

So tl;dr, if you ask me, no, he didn’t do it just to be polite, he truly cares and enjoys saying hi to his fans. He truly listen to what we say and takes him time with us. What it is import here is to ALWAYS respect him, his privacy, his boundaries and not be invasive. He is open to meet us, make sure we aren’t nervous, listen to what we wanna say, tell us that everything’s ok… but let’s not forget that at the end, he is also a human being as any of us and he does has a reserved personality.

PS. BTW, I just wanna add something else. When I was literally admiring my design with his autograph and saying it would have a pretty frame, both, his manager and him, said “aaw” lol 🥹

Here is my design:

#my asks

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sadesluvr · 6 months

Text

Parting Gift

You love Mike, but he's jaded.

Mike Schmidt x GN! Reader

A/N: Something for my FNAF fans! I’ve been watching too much HBO and wanted to write angst, so this fic features a realistic Mike Schmidt. This features hints of Vanessa x Mike, but also his emotional problems in general. We love him, but I don’t think its controversial to say that being in a relationship with him would be difficult...

Please read my other Mike works if this isn’t your kind of thing!

Set post movie.

Word count: 1.6K

Tags: ANGST / SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Reader is human as has weird emotions / Breakups / Hints of jealousy + rage / Hints of fluff / Bittersweet stuff, really

You never went inside.

As a detective, you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. You’d been to hospitals thousands of times; speaking to suspects, injured colleagues or even to address the dreaded ‘call’, and yet the thought of watching Mike and Abby leave handmade cards at Vanessa “Shelly’s” bedside made you violently ill.

You knew everything that had gone down at the defunct Freddy Fazbear’s, and it had plagued you to no end. Though Abby and Mike’s relationship had certainly turned for the better, you were angry, frustrated at the fact that he’d been hurt, not only from being physically punted across the room, but the fact he’d had to stare his brother’s killer in the eye, virtually powerless to it all. Even more so, you were pissed that Vanessa had become a factor in your lives.

You’d only been dating Mike for just under a year, meeting him in a rather cliched manner at a donut stand in the mall. An exchange of numbers turned into casual check-ins, which soon evolved into a relationship – or at least parts of one. It was no secret that Mike was guarded; letting you in, but not too close enough to get overly attached. At first, it felt like you were made for each other – you felt a similar way about you line of work, and how you operated with people because of it – but closer towards those crucial few months of the new year it had begun to grow tedious.

You weren’t expecting a whirlwind, all-consuming romance, but it certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like this; with days of missed calls, unexplained outbursts and erectile dysfunction making being with him feel like a chore. Some days, you wondered why you’d even bothered asking for his number. Most days, you wondered why he’d responded at all.

Deep down, you knew none of this was his fault. He'd been fighting to survive since he was a teenager, and it was only inevitable that he’d develop issues. Being a detective meant you were all the more receptive to them, understanding the nuances of why people became the way that they were, and it was painfully clear to you why Mike had changed since the incident.

He and Vanessa were both conjoined, victims of William Afton in their own ways, yet both bound by blood. You’d been there when he’d stopped on the way home to visit her, listening from the outside as you supervised Abby. Why couldn’t you all go in? It wasn’t as if it were a particularly gory scene; it merely looked like she was sleeping. Why had he made you all wait?

“Vanessa, I don’t know if… you can hear any of this, but, um… I’m having a hard time just processing everything that happened.

But you were there for me and Abby when it mattered the most.

And I don’t think that either of us would be here today if it weren’t for you.

So… So get better. And we’ll be here when you wake up.”

The words were as clear as day. Hadn’t you been there for them? Tried to give Abby a sense of a stable life? Tried to help with bills? Offering to send him to counselling? Why had it taken a near fatal murder attempt for Mike to wake up?

Now, with all the fallout, you were all left with far more questions than answers…and this time you didn’t have the energy to try and solve them.

“Abby’s sleeping,” you announced, poking your head through the door. Mike was rummaging around his room, trying to prepare himself for work in the morning – a menial task for some, but strangely methodical to him in the moment. He didn’t answer.

“Abby’s sleeping,” you repeated, and he perked up, a flustered smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh...” he said, clearing his throat. “Thanks. I guess I lost track of time…”

“Yeah.” you mumbled, leaning against the doorframe, clearly waiting for something…you just didn’t know what.

“Thanks —“ he said after a moment of silence, his soft brown eyes gazing into your own. You could see him nervously gnawing on the inside of of his cheek. “—For helping. I really do appreciate it. I’m not trying to seem like a douche, there’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, strolling into the room. “But it’s been bugging you for a while now. Don’t you want to…you know…talk to someone?”

Mike paused and cocked his head.

“Like a therapist?”

“That would be a good option,” you hummed, trying not to dance around the subject. “Or you can speak to me. I won’t even psychoanalyse you, I could just listen, y’know?”

He bit his lip again, this time glancing down at the floor before back at you. You couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking, but he was certainly showing signs of restraint. Restraint. It seemed to be the defining word in your relationship.

“…I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Oh, but Vanessa would, right?”

He flinched at your raised voice, and glanced nervously down the hall.

“That’s not what I meant —“

“Then what do you mean, Mike?” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You met her a month ago, whilst I’ve known you for a year! You’ve never once given me as much grace as you have her. Ever!”

“I had a lot on my plate, okay? It wasn’t easy.”

“I know that! But I was there for you. I watched you pick up those prescriptions, I tried to be a role model to Abby, to help take the load off all those payments, and I got nothing!” you yelled. “I wasn’t asking for a mile, but you didn’t even give me an inch.”

Mike didn’t respond, instead he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray strands away from his face before he rubbed his eyes.

“How is it that you can mend every relationship you have except the one you willingly chose to be in?” You said, voice wavering as you watched him sink into the bed. It was his natural response; life was crushing and had done so many times, but his lack of fight was extremely telling. He could stand off with a serial killer and haunted animatronics, but not muster a few words to reassure his partner?

He was just too complicated for you to understand.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, shaking his head absentmindedly before looking up at you. “Maybe I didn’t think this through…”

You knew what that meant, and even though you’d been anticipating it – even manifesting it yourself – it didn’t make the blow any easier. Sighing, you steadied your week knees by sitting on the bed next to Mike, grasping at the bedsheets as you stared blankly around the room. For once, it felt like you were both in the same page.

“I love you,” he said, breaking the tension. You glanced at him, taking in the fact that his eyes were welling with tears and jaw clenched, and you could tell that he meant it. “I really did, y’know? I tried.”

You nodded, rubbing at your cheeks anxiously before kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped, but you didn’t mind, losing yourself in the way he drew you into his body with you hands, clinging onto you as he made a desperate plea to attempt to reach out to you for a final time.

Before you knew it, you back was against the mattress, and Mike was on-top of you, hurriedly pulling down his sweatpants before doing the same to you. As your lower torso lay exposed, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, making his way around your belly button and down towards your privates. Shutting your eyes, you wondered what your relationship could’ve been if every time felt like this; electric and passionate…with intent.

Once he’d slipped his boxers to the side, you gave his erect cock a few languid strokes before inserting him into you, letting out a broken moan as he adjusted to being inside of you. Mike’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed, and you remembered just how beautiful he looked in his (rare) moments of bliss.

He stabilised himself on his forearms as he watched you, rolling his hips as he explored your hole, searching for that all-important sweet spot. The room may have been dimly lit; the darkness of night encroaching upon the walls, but he could see you all too clearly. It pained him that he hadn’t before – no, he had, but he didn’t know how to express it – and wondered just how much different things would’ve been had he not met Vanessa, hell, had he not attacked that man that fateful day. He knew some things had changed for the better, some for the worst, and some that only time would tell – and he had a sneaking suspicion that you fell into the latter.

His mind was hell, but it felt like heaven to be inside you.

Leaning down, he placed a sloppy kiss to your lips before moving to your neck, groaning as you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

“Mike...” you moaned. “You’re so good to me...”

‘For me’ was left unuttered.

“Please...” you begged; your words almost inaudible over the creaking of his bedframe, and his heavy thighs slapping against your own as he rutted into you. “Cum for me. I need it...”

Mike nodded, damp strands of his fringe glued to his forehead as he pushed into you a final time, his legs trembling as he came. It was unfathomable that in the heat of his pleasure – the best orgasm you’d had together – he wanted to cry. Breathlessly, you held him as he rode off his high, so tightly that you thought you might’ve pierced his skin, before you spoke your final words into the night.

“I love you too...” you whispered. “I’m sorry...for everything.”

You were gone before sunrise.

#florence writes!!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x gn!reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf angst #mike schmidt x reader angst #mike schmidt x male reader #fnaf x gn! reader #angst imagines

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | thirteen

🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you. 🐴Chapter title: Love Letter

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected.

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core.

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again.

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along?

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion.

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off.

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him?

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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koralinewrites · 2 months

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I saw a post on your main account that you listened to DAYLIGHT! If you don't mind, could you let me know what you think of it?

OOH YES!

Okay so, just to preface this, I’ve ONLY ever listened to Laito’s audios, so his is all I’m gonna be talking about. Obviously there’s gonna be a few spoilers- I personally REALLY loved his tracks. I know there are people who don’t like it because of the storyline and such, but I don’t really care about all that. I loved it for two things. 1) It shows off Laito’s thought processes and what goes through his head and 2) Daisuke Hirakawa’s performance was amazing.

I LOVE angst. I love reading it, writing it, everything. And this has a lot of angst. I mean, the one person who he’s fallen in love with is dying, and there’s quite literally nothing he can do. I think Track 4 was the one that actually got me to cry at the end, when he’s having a mental breakdown. We get to learn more about how he views himself. He doesn’t think of himself as someone who should HAVE these feelings. He’s Laito Sakamaki: a vampire who lies and manipulates his way through life (basically a direct quote, btw). He doesn’t know what to do about these feelings. Lust and pleasure was all predictable, it was second nature. But when someone he genuinely cared for showed up? He had no idea. And then to pile onto these confusing feelings, that same person was going to die. And he couldn’t do a thing. His default was to get rid of the root of the problem, aka you.

This is where I got kinda confused , because a similar thing was happening in More Blood but he didn’t want to kill Yui because he loved her. The way I understood it was he’d rather be the one to kill you than to see you die slowly and painfully without him being able to do anything. Plus, if he was the one to try to kill you, you’d probably resent him and it’d make his life easier. You wouldn’t be nice to him anymore. It’d be something normal, predictable. Something he’s used to, because, let’s face it, he doesn’t know how to handle genuine compassion. But then you don’t. You don’t hate him for trying to murder you- in fact, you welcome it. And this confuses him. You’re not supposed to act like this, it just makes his job harder. Why aren’t you doing anything the way it’s supposed to be done? The way he’s used to. And so, he thinks it’s a problem with him. So he turns that knife on himself, and it takes you getting hurt for him to realize that getting rid of himself wouldn’t accomplish anything either.

Also, as I said before, Daisuke Hirakawa’s performance is AMAZING in this. I’m obsessed with, I can’t remember if it’s Track 3 or 4, but the scene where you’re in the school infirmary and have a coughing fit. He obviously freaks out and his voice deepens in worry. But then. When he leaves, he puts on that happy mask. His voice lightens, and it’s back to that higher-pitched sound it was originally. And that made me want to SMACK him. Like, sir- STOP. Stop hiding behind that mask, it’s obvious you’re worried. Come on.

When Laito’s thinking to himself, when he has that mental breakdown in Track 4, the way his voice shakes and deepens and how he yells and curses and punches a wall and just- AUGHHH. This man. He so obviously cares, but he doesn’t know what to do with all of these feelings he’s never had to deal with before. I just…. God.

Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted. If you can’t tell, I’ve had this rant in my head for a WHILE. He just makes me so ILL. Please, people, send in more Laito related asks, I have so many thoughts-

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers laito #laito sakamaki #dialovers laito #laito angst

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nicromancytarot · 5 months

Text

NICROMANCY GETS SCAMMED - EPISODE 2

All I do on this app is complain.

Hello and welcome to part 2 of me possibly being scammed?? (I feel like this is deserved now, am I just really unlucky or something?)

16th of March @samisinsomniac messaged me for an exchange, I gave them their reading the next day 500 words as I mentioned I preferred, they responded with my reading the next day too, only with around 200 words, but I was thankful nonetheless!

I gave them a thank you, and some feedback on the reading, they also gave me a little bit of feedback for the one I gave to them.

On the 30th of March they messaged me again for some clarity on a situation through another exchange.

I got to their’s as soon as I could (which was immediately since I wasn’t busy that day), they were busy, but that’s ok, they said they would give mine to me by 10pm Indian standard time. India is 5 hours ahead of me, as I am set in the UK.

I proceeded to give their reading to them, 500 words as before, not only did I not receive any thank you, I also didn’t receive feedback. If you’re a Tarot reader, you will understand how crucial feedback is for us to better our talent and improve our work, and they know this very well, as they even mentioned to me during our first exchange for me to let them know how it resonates, and leave some feedback in their ask box.

To make matters worse, they did not give me my reading by 10pm IST. (It’s getting realll)

Here is their response to my reading, the blocked off part is me explaining the person’s feelings for them, I don’t want to put anyone’s personal information on blast, which is why that is covered.

They then said that they would send the reading to me that evening.

It was not delivered by that time either. DUH DUH DUH

I messaged them a tad worried, perhaps they’d been hit by a car and I was just being mad for no reason. They let me know that they had a medical issue, which made me feel evil for pacing my room in anticipation (I didn’t actually do that, only inside my mind palace)

Finally, I received my reading! It was… 200 words, but alas! At least I got it and everyone is alive.

Now the average person would take this as a lesson not to exchange again, just in case they get caught up with another medical issue you know, or maybe the reading is short. (Which ever one is worse. IM KIDDING)

They had a birthday! Turned 18, that’s great, I’m also 18, they messaged me about it, then asked me if I did 18+ readings.

Sometimes I lack context clues, but personally I feel like my confusion here is pretty valid. Plus! Their profile said they don’t do 18+, I’m very valid in my confusion.

Anyways! They ask for my question, I give it, then they give me theirs, they ask if it’s ok, I let them know it is.

But I was hungry and needed to shower, so I also let them know that.

They were doing my reading at 7:26pm, I got out my shower at 10:48pm…. somethings not adding up! So I sent a little message, letting them know about my recent scam, and how I did not want to get scammed again so they would have to send it first.

However, they have not responded, it’s been 3 days, since they apparently started my reading? Now I’m no Tarot Goddess, but I’m pretty sure you would be done with a reading by day 3.

Listen, I don’t wanna fight or argue, I’m just a little funny guy who does Tarot, no fight in me, you message me in caps and I think I’ll cry.

This is not to cause an argument, or to throw hands at anybody, I just don’t like being lied to or taking advantage of as a smaller Tarot reader.

It’s only been 3 days, I was planning on waiting longer to post this, however I feel like now is fine as I’ve clearly been lied to about when they started their reading, which I’m not sure if it was to receive theirs early from me, I got no clue dude, what I do know is I am really tired of people doing this to me, please stop, before I actually cast a spell for you to clip into the back rooms.

Scammers: 2 Nicromancy: 0

Please stop scamming me, you’re embarrassing me in front of my spirit guides. 😔

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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redheadloverr · 1 year

Text

Asking them to be “flings”

i have no other way to really tittle this idea but heres the concept;

randomly hitting genshin boys up (separately ofc!) saying you want a ‘fling’ and you end up confessing to them!

gn!reader x anemo boys!

quick A/N! I’ll check grammar/misspellings later, also trying a new style to my blogs so pls let me know if you like this style better! <3

Heizou

at first he thought you were joking. he completely laughs in your face, unaware that this would be something you’d actually want.

“you’re funny, y/n.” he says with a chuckle, ignoring you and going back to his work. after he realizes you’re serious, he looks up at you examining your expression.

“you’re serious?” he asks, still examining you. you nod at him and he continues. “we’ll, I’m not opposed to that idea. I never thought you’d be the type to ask something like that, though. so tell me, what’s your motive?”

you stare at him shyly, not knowing what to say. you couldn’t just tell him you had a crush on him this whole time and that you only want to hook up because you’re too scared to get rejected by him.

he notices your long pause and continues, trying to tease you. “don’t tell me you have a crush on me~”

you stiffen. you know he’s teasing you yet the thought that he may or may not know is eating you up inside. you’re unable to speak, your cheeks turn a light pink.

“is that the case?” he asks you firmly, trying to read your face before continuing.

you weakly nod and wait for his reaction. he closes his eyes, thinking for a moment.

“if that’s the case, I don’t want to be ‘flings’.” he says, finally looking at you. “if you want to date, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

you two smile at each other before setting up dinner plans for later that evening. you feel so happy you could die!

Kazuha

“no.” he says seconds after you ask him, completely crushing you.

you awkwardly turn to leave the room when he reaches for your hand.

“wait-“ he pauses, “don’t ask anyone else, though.”

“I won’t, I only wanted to do it with you” you’re immediately shocked that you’d even confess something like that to kazuha of all people. you cover your mouth, turning away from him to hide your embarrassment.

he turns his head, confused at you. “what do you mean, Y/N? why only with me?”

you take a deep breath before speaking. “I like you kazuha, I’ve liked you for a while now. I didn’t know how to tell you so I thought maybe I would just ask if you’d want to hook up and maybe something will happen out of that..” you were rambling at this point.

he silently nods while listening to you, his expression not changing once. when you finish talking, he smiles at you. “you should’ve said that from the beginning. I don’t do those ‘flings’ but I’d be more than happy to take you out for dinner and see where things go from there.” his smile is warm and genuine. he gently pats your head before he speaks again. “are you free this weekend? I know a spot.”

Scaramouche

he drops what he’s doing and gives you a death stare, sending shivers down your spine. “excuse me?”

you flinch a little at his words, not knowing what else to say. “repeat yourself.” he says firmly. you tell him again, in a smaller voice.

“I thought that was what you said.” he said with a sigh. “what’s your reasoning? you’re not the type that usually asks me for such a.. request.” he looks you up at down trying to read you.

“well.. I just.. I like you.” you say shyly, almost scared.

“what?” he stares at you again, but he stares at you a lot softer.

“I like you, I’ve been trying to confess to you for a while now but you just never got the hits.. I know you hook up with people casually so I thought maybe I could try that route instead.” you go on, rambling.

“stop.” he says, and you tighten up. “you like me?” he asks. you shyly nod. “are you sure?” he says, more so asking himself.

“of course I’m sure!” you say, wondering why he would even ask that. he takes a moment to process everything.

“I like you too.” he says, now shyly. “I didn’t think you’d like someone like.. someone like me.” he says.

you chuckle, “of course you’d say that! you’re far more than just your title and your past, scara. I want to get to know every side of you.”

he shyly moves closer to you, holding your hands, looking at them. “thank you.” he says before he looks up at you and smiles.

Venti

venti giggles at you, shaking his head. “oh Y/N, I know you’re way too innocent to ever want to have a ‘fling’ with someone randomly.” he holds your hand, looking into your eyes. “so, why all of a sudden have you asked for such a thing?”

venti was so good at reading you he knew, he didn’t even have to look at you to know this isn’t the type of thing you’d ever do. you felt like you had no choice but to be honest with him. making up a lie wouldn’t help this situation.

you take a deep breath, “venti, I have a crush on you.” you look at him, waiting for a response before continuing.

he nods, waiting for you to keep talking, so you do. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, I thought this would be the best way to ease my way in..”

he sighs, placing his hand on your shoulder. “oh Y/N. you should’ve just told me, it would’ve been a lot less more embarrassing on your part and a lot easier.” he walks towards a tree, patting the ground next to him, hinting you sit next to him.

you take a seat next to him as he continues. “I have no clue why you decided to ask me that of all things, but I’m glad it wasn’t the reasons most people ask others for such a thing.” he smiles at you, holding your hand. “with that being said, I like you too. I don’t know when I started liking you, but I did and I still do. you amaze me everyday, even now. If I had to spend the rest of a lifetime with someone, you’d be my first choice.” he looks at you, waiting for you’re response now.

your cheeks turn a deep red shade. he chuckled at your reaction. he leans over saying “I hope we can be more than friends after this” before moving your head towards him, kissing you.

Xiao

xiao has no words, he just stares at you. dumbfounded. he couldn’t believe you had just said that, and he couldn’t believe he was blushing because you said that. he blinks before asking you “can you say that again? I don’t think I heard you right?”

you shyly nod, repeating the same request you had asked him just a couple seconds ago. he covers his mouth, looking around to see if anyone was around.

“why? who put you up to this?” he seems a bit angry, annoyed. he grabs your wrist, and takes you to a private area.

“no one put me up to this!” you tell xiao as he continues to pull you along with him. “I’m the only one who made myself say that, and now I regret saying anything at all.” he stops walking and looks back at you.

“why did you say it then?” he says eager to know the reason. “I like you, xiao. I didn’t know how to tell you so I thought maybe this could help me a little? It was dumb I know but..” “It’s not dumb!” he cuts you off, “I think it’s kind of cute, and I’m flattered you would.. like me” he says the last part shyly

“of course I like you, xiao. I’ve liked you for a while now, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me..” you say shyly

he smiles, “and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me as well. but please, don’t scare me like that again.” you both chuckle.

“would you like to go out later today?”

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1970sgothfreak · 1 year

Text

Okay before you read this final part I just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who has supported me while I’ve been on my break, I am going to try and post more content but I got my dream job/apprenticeship but once again thank you so much and enjoy! ☺️

The Forgotten Twin’s birthday Final part

You sat in the alleyway and looked up at the dark stormy sky of Gotham, it had just began to rain so you stood io and began your journey home, on the way back you though of what your mother had said about you going back to the league.

Were…were you really thinking of going back to the league, you would have to leave everything behind…Alfred, Jon,…the boys and your father.

You shook your head and noticed that you weren’t at the manor but had in fact walked to the bat burger place, you had been so focused on something else that you hadn’t realised you were hungry.

You went inside and sat down ordering your regular and pulling out your phone noticing a bunch of texts, opening your phone you decided to read Jon’s texts first

“are you okay?”

“Im so sorry I let it slip please don’t be mad at me!”

“Thank you for sending me your location be safe”

And the final one

“I love you ♥️”

It was short and simple but, it still made you smile and blush before you checked the other messages they were mainly things like:

“Are you okay”

“Dads really upset”

“Come home we need to talk”

“Please come home we’re sorry”

“This is ridiculous” you thought to yourself as you took a bite of your food, noticing a bunch of family’s eating together happily, you felt sad but also envy

Why did those children get what you didn’t?

Why did they have people who actually wanted to spend time with them?

Why…

Why weren’t you good enough for them?

Y/n pov

I finished my food, placing the money on the table before leaving and squeezing the water out of my jacket, I thought over the things said and sighed annoyed wondering if they actually were sorry or just sorry that they got caught

I headed back to the manor and entered when I hear the boys talking, I quickly shut the door and snuck around the corner to listen to their conversation, it was…about me..!?

“Bruce you need to calm down”

“Calm down my reputation is going to go down the drain so are the boys if they ever find out what we did to Y/n!”

Oh…

They really didn’t care, of course I knew that but finally hearing it made me realise it and how much…it actually hurt a bit..?

I pulled out my phone and saw that Jon sent another text

“You get home okay honey..?”

“Yea I did…found out the truth lol”

“Truth?…”

“Bruce is only trying to apologise so that he and the boys don’t loose their public reputation…I’m thinking of moving back in with my mom”

“But then I won’t be able to see you again…”

“You will! I’ll make sure of it, I’ll even ask my mom right now!”

I exited the chat and pulled up my moms contact before texting her and asking if it was okay for me to bring Jon with me or for him to at least be able to frequently visit, I saw the chat bubbles appear and waited with anticipation to see her reply

“Yes that’s fine, I’ll make sure he’s allowed access to you constantly”

My face light up with a smile once I saw my mothers reply and texted Jon to let him know, he was also excited all that was left to do…was pack up and say goodbye I don’t know what will he harder but…all I know is that I’m getting out of this place and I’m going home and one thing I know for definite is….

I am never coming back.

Taglist:

@paleenthusiastfox

@notazul

@rainnyydaysworld

@simpingmyassoff

@stupendousnightmaretrash

@batfamlover

@harpy-space

@loxbbg

@mxtokko

@venomsvl

@awalkingdisasterbi

@randobeetlehouse

@snowcatlove

@vanessa-boo

@sem-blog245

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@tweetybomb

@ur-local-brown-artist

@burnaccsblog

@killerqueenduck

@odinswarriorvalkyrie

@kiyomi-uchiha777

#batfam x batsis #batsis reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x batsis #dick grayson x sister reader #jason todd x sister reader #tim drake x sister!reader #The Forgotten Twin’s birthday #Jon x reader #jon kent x reader

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pxrplebxtterfly · 1 year

Text

Yes Father (1/2)

gifs belong to me

18+

Pairing: Sam Winchester’s alias Father Frehley x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, (d)ubcon, priest kink?, innocence ruined kink?, mentions of God and religion, mentions of death and murder, handjob, fingering. (Sorry if I didn’t identify the warnings correctly. I tend to just write without thinking of what things are called.)

Summary: Two junior priests visit your church and you’re tasked with giving them a tour of the chapel. You take a liking to one and meet him later that night at the church.

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: This fic was written in a FIRST PERSON POV!!! This is the first part of a two-part fic about Sam’s alias Father Frehley. This first part takes place during season 1, episode 14: Nightmare. Anyways, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy!

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

I’ve always been a believer. Always. I go to mass every Sunday and always help out where I’m needed.

I have a myriad of jobs to do at the Church. Sometimes I hand out book bags for the kids to look through, or other weekends, the coffee and doughnuts for the parents, just devoting my time to the Church.

One Sunday, I’m handing out said coffee and doughnuts after the final service of the day, when two new priests walk into the lobby of the church. They’re dressed in black suits with white roman collars, marking their priesthood.

They’re listening to Father Padrick; one of the priests at my church, and asking him questions. They follow him in through the doors and make their way closer to my little table.

They’re handsome. Probably the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life. I almost choke on my breath when I see them. One in particular is a mountain of a man; broad shoulders, chestnut hair, and misty hazel eyes. He looks pensive as Father Padrick speaks to him.

Approaching me, Father Padrick says, “Hi dearie, this is Father Simmons and Father Frehley”

The blonde one nods first, and then the brown haired one. His eyes stay on mine for a moment too long.

“Gentlemen,” Father Padrick continues, “This is y/n. She goes to the university in town and volunteers here every Sunday.”

“Nice to meet you” I say timidly and stick out my hand to shake theirs. Father Frehley quickly grabs a hold of mine and squeezes it gently. His bear paw of a hand envelopes mine and the dry warmth sends a shiver down my spine.

“It’s always good to see fellow young people helping out the church” Father Frehley says to me, kind eyes making me smile.

“Fellow?” I ask him. He doesn’t necessarily look old at all, it’s mostly just his frame that makes me think so.

He smiles and says, “Yes, I’m only twenty-three, still new to the parish”

Father Simmons must have seen my enchantment with Father Frehley and interrupts my thoughts saying, “I’m also new, and young, just for the record.” He chuckles awkwardly and I nod my head in slow agreement.

“Anyways, would you please take these two on a tour around the church?” Father Padrick asks.

“Of course, follow me” I say softly.

I walk in front of the men, leading them towards the large wooden doors that lead into the chapel.

“So, have both of you come to join the clergy here?” I ask, dipping both my fingers in the small dish of holy water as I enter.

“Uhm no, we’re actually junior priests over at St. Augustine’s, however we were close with Father O’Malley and are in town for the weekend for his funeral” Father Frehley says mournfully.

When I hear him mention Father O’Malley I quickly turn around to watch them both make the sign of the cross.

Father O’Malley was another priest at my church, who was murdered in a sadistic and bizarre way a week ago outside his home.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t even think to connect the dots. I’m so sorry for your loss. I didn’t know him as well as I know Father Padrick, he mostly did services during the weekdays” I say and hang my head in sorrow.

“It’s okay, we just wanted to come take a look at where he devoted his time and talk to others that knew him” Father Simmons adds.

I nod, “I wish I could tell you all about him, but unfortunately I don’t know what to say, he was a very secluded man”

Father Frehley smiles warmly, understanding what I mean and continues, “Did Father O’Malley pick up any strange habits or behaviors recently?”

“Not that I can think of. I’m sorry, was something wrong before his death?” I ask, wondering why such a strange question was asked at random.

“Well that’s what we’re trying to figure out” He responds.

I hum and fidget with the hem of my cardigan as we make eye contact. Father Frehley licks his lips subconsciously and they glisten just like his eyes.

A rumble of heat echoes from my private parts and I look down at my shoes, struggling to figure out what that sensation was.

“Everything okay?” Father Frehley asks.

I shoot my head up and realize he’s closer to me now, leaning in with concern. “Oh yeah,” I laugh, “just feeling a little sick or something”

I don’t know why my heart has started to beat fast, or why my mouth is suddenly dry. Was I afraid of him? Did he excite me?

“Well, we’ll let you get home, but if you remember anything about Father O’Malley and his death, or you even just feel strange, call us, okay?” Father Frehley says.

I bite my lip as our fingers touch when he hands me a small card with his number on it.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

I’m pacing back and forth in the living room of my small apartment, trying to calm the panic inside of me. My stomach is churning and my body racked with anxiety as images of Father O’Malley through my mind. The uncomfortable adrenaline from thinking about the death of a person I knew, was eating away at me.

I’m cursing at my own brain and decide to walk to the next block and pray at the church.

I grab the keys to the church and head out.

I approach the doors of the building and stick the key in. I fidget with the key but realize that the doors are already unlocked. I open the door quietly, assuming it’s Father Padrick completing future sermon plans.

As soon as I’m inside I realize the doors to the chapel are open and see the flickering of prayer candles lighting up the room. Dark shadows bounce off the walls and it’s eerily silent.

I continue further into the chapel and see someone sitting on the steps of the altar. Moonlight shines through the ceiling of glass and windows of stained glass, to illuminate the brooding figure.

I squint and quickly recognize exactly who it is.

“Father Frehley?” I ask, and walk towards him.

His head shoots up in surprise.

“How’d you get in here?” I continue.

His face beams as he recognizes it’s me. He sighs as I approach him. “Promise you won’t tell Father Padrick?”

“That depends on how you got in,” I say teasingly.

He scoffs with a grin, claps his hands together and says, “I picked the lock”

My eyes widen and a smile spreads across my face as I laugh about his entrance strategy. This giant of a priest, broke into a church and didn’t even seem to be repenting.

“You could have just asked me for a spare key” I grin.

“Oh yeah? And what are you doing here?” he asks.

I blush at his interest, “I just came here for a moment away from life’s anxieties”

“Sounds like we both could use a break”

I look down at him inquisitively. His eyes are sparkling up at me. I watch him stand up and take a step towards me.

My stomach flutters and that strange rush returns to my privates. I let in a sharp breath, shocked at the sensation.

“What do you mean?” I ask eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“I’ve just been stressed lately, and could use a stress reliever. You’d be surprised at how interesting and hectic my life is. All that chaos can really do a number on you, you know? Stress takes on all sorts of physical forms in your body” he elaborates.

“Like what?” I ask and tilt my head, curious to see if he continues.

“Well, for instance, pain,” he pauses, looks at me and bites his lip. I can tell there’s thoughts and ideas brewing in his head. “I’m actually experiencing some pretty bad pain right now” he sighs.

“Where? What happened?” I immediately scan his body, looking for any signs of pain.

“Earlier today I was on a date, and my date had a job that she didn’t finish… Which has left me with a tremendous amount of tension and soreness” he says, and places his hand on his crotch.

My eyes go big yet again at the sight of a large bulge in his pants.

“A date? I thought priests weren’t allowed to date” I step back.

“I mean a date as friends silly,” he explains.

“Oh, I see” I nod and feel stupid for jumping to conclusions.

He squeezes the rod in his pants and closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s trying to imagine something.

“Is that where it hurts?”

“Yeah, it’s really sore and hurts real bad”

“Is there anything I can do to help Father?”

He lets out a shaky breath when I say his title. His hand begins to rub over the bulge, back and forth. “There is something,” he says, “you could give me a special massage”

“Of course Father, anything to help” I say and reach for the bulge. He grabs my wrist before I’m able to place my hand on him.

“Hold on a sec, let me get comfortable” he whispers.

I nod, agreeingly; the perfect massage requires the perfect position. He leads me by the wrist to a pew in the first row and sits me down right next to him.

As soon as we’re sat, I reach over and place my hand on his large bulge and rub my hand back and forth just like he was.

“I’ve never given anyone a special massage before, so will you tell me if I’m doing it right?” I ask, looking into his darkening eyes.

“Of course baby, let me pull my pants down so you can get a better grip” he says.

The pet name ‘baby’ sends another odd wave to my privates.

Father Frehley pulls his pants down and something large springs up.

“This is my cock baby, it hurts really bad. The only thing that’ll make me feel better is if you touch it” he begs into my ear.

I nod and he places his huge hand over mine, and brings it to what he calls his cock.

“Yeah just like that” he praises, wrapping my hand around him. “Now move your hand up and down and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

I follow his instructions and begin to move my hand up and down. He’s moaning and huffing while he looks into my eyes, watching me work.

“Fuck honey, you’re making my dick feel so good” he seethes.

Before I can even think, he reaches for my face and kisses me. I know that kissing is wrong but I don’t pull back because I don’t want him to be mad at me for disobeying him, and because it makes my privates flutter again.

I continue to pump at his dick and his hips begin to thrust into my hand harder and faster, so I apply more pressure and quicken my pace. My hand and arm are sore but he hasn’t told me to stop so I continue. I just want to take his pain away.

As we kiss, his hands pull slightly at parts of my hair and push at parts of my face. One of his hands finds my neck and wraps around it gently. Warmth spreads through every vein in me.

His kisses become sloppy and his tongue is exploring my mouth. I traverse his mouth with my own tongue as well and the heat between us increases. His tongue circles mine, leaving me breathless. His moans become louder the faster I pump my hand. His cock is throbbing, and his hips are stuttering into my fist.

With a sudden “Fuck” from his lips, I feel something warm splatter on my hand while I jerk at his dick. His whole body tenses and then relaxes with the release of the fluid. He wraps his hand around mine and slows my pumps, eventually making them come to a stop.

“Fuck baby, you’re amazing, look at what you did to me” he smiles intoxicatingly as his lips pull away from mine.

“Did that- did that make you feel better?” I ask shyly.

“So much better, you have no idea” he shakes his head and laughs.

His laugh and the weird warmth and sensations in my privates causes my hips to roll forward uncontrollably.

“Sorry,” I apologize for the spasm.

“Oh don’t be sorry, is everything okay?” he asks, his face scrunched with worry.

“Well, I don’t know, I think so, but I feel funny,” I confess.

“Where?” he asks, and doesn’t break eye contact with me.

The funny feeling only increases, “Somewhere embarrassing?”

“Embarrassing? What do you mean?” he asks.

“Well, I’m not supposed to talk about it. It’s impolite and crude”

“Oh, I see what you mean…” he smiles and nods, understandingly. “Does it feel all fluttery and hot?”

My face grows bright red, and I whisper, “How do you know that?”

He laughs softly and says, “I wasn’t always a priest”

I don’t really understand what he means but I bunch my hands into fists as I catch him biting his lip, and his eyes scanning down my body.

“It’s only growing worse isn’t it?” he asks.

I suck in a deep breath and nod.

“Do you want me to help you with it? I can make you feel all better” he breathes out so tenderly.

He’s so close to me, for the first time I can really smell his cologne and hear his breathing.

“H-how? A special massage?”

He nods; traces a finger up and down my arm as he asks, “Will you let me touch you?”

“You mean, down there, where it feels funny?”

He nods again and looks like he’s about to devour me. I’m shocked at his request. Nobody has ever wanted to help me feel better by touching me.

“And if I let you, it’ll make me feel better?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. If you let me, I can make you feel really good” his fingers ghosting my waist.

“Are you sure?” I whimper. The heat from his body and touch fuel the sensation in my privates.

“Mhm” he says and kisses me softly.

Something in me ignites as he pulls me against him and slips his tongue in my mouth. His hands run up my back and hold the sides of my face as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. His kisses slow and he lets out a low moan as he pulls away.

“Sit on my lap” he commands.

I don’t question this for a second and immediately sit on his lap, my back pushing against his torso. He places his hands on my stomach and begins to run them up and down my torso. Father Frehley is right, this does feel good.

With caution, he moves his hands up to my breasts and I moan. I didn’t think that a touch on my chest could stir such a feeling in me.

“Let me help you baby” he coos against my neck. He begins to kiss, and suck, and lick at my neck, making me dizzy. His hands have somehow undone my bra and taken my sweater off. He's massaging my breasts, running his fingers over my nipples, tweaking them occasionally. I can’t help but whimper and moan from his touch. My hips begin to buck, like they have a mind of their own.

“God look at how needy you are” he groans into my neck.

His hands finally find my privates and he rubs his hand over my mound. My hips continue to move, grinding against his hand.

“How can someone so beautiful never have been touched?” he mumbles.

Continuing his kisses on my neck, he pulls my skirt up and rips my tights. I squeal from his impressive action and watch as his large fingers pull my panties to the side and touch my hole.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet” he melts into my ear.

His fingers gather the slick that drips out of me and brings it up to the most sensitive part of my privates.

I moan as he circles that spot slowly and he says “This is your clit. When I touch this, it makes you feel better doesn’t it?”

“Yes Father” I mumble, already addicted to whatever this feeling was.

Father Frehley groans at my obedience and applies more pressure. He’s skillfully rubbing at my clit and I feel a strange tightness increase in me. It’s like a balloon of pleasure slowly blowing up inside of me.

As soon as it feels like it’s going to pop, he pulls his fingers off of me. My hips stutter in the air, aching at the loss. I whine at the stop of the sensation.

“Shhhhh, I know honey, you’re doing so well for me. But now I’m going to put my finger inside of you” he whispers.

He does exactly what he says. I feel one of his thick and long fingers slide into my hole. I immediately clench around it and moan from both pleasure and discomfort.

“God you’re so fucking tight” he whines. I don’t even recognize he’s taken the lord’s name in vain.

He lets me take a second to adjust to his finger inside of me, but then begins to slowly drag it out and back in. Each time he plunges his finger back in, I moan. He begins to pick up the pace and also starts to move his finger while it’s inside of me, hitting a sweet spot against my walls. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as his finger curls and continuously brushes that sensitive spot.

“Look at your tight, virgin cunt, trying to push my finger out,” he hisses.

His finger feels so good, prodding that perfect spot in me again and again and again and again.

With time he adds another finger to me and picks up his pace. The palm of his hand rubs against what he calls my clit, and it feels so, so wonderful. His fingers are flicking back and forth in me, vibrating against that tart spot, making my eyes water.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, taking what I give to you. Want you to make a mess all over my hand baby” he moans.

His words kick my hips into action and I begin to grind up against his hand even more.

With one hand pinching my nipple and the other slamming into me, the balloon of pleasure that had been building, bursts. A wave of fluttering and blinding sensations hits me and I’m thrown into a different universe. I think I see God and hear angels singing.

As the tide of this sensation goes out, I’m once again back in the church on Father Frehley's lap. His fingers have slowed and so have his kisses on my neck.

“Look at the pretty mess you made” he whispers and slowly drags his long fingers out of me. I moan at feeling and at the sight of his glistening hand.

He cups my mound gently and kisses me on the shoulder. He brings his fingers up to my mouth and says “Taste yourself sweetheart”

I obey and open my mouth to let his fingers slide in. I suck and taste the nectar I’ve made. With a pop, he takes his fingers out of my mouth and says “Good girl”

I lay in his lap just catching my breath, looking up through the glass ceiling at the stars, trying to rationalize what I just experienced. Almost as if he can read my mind he wraps his arms around me comfortingly, and kisses my shoulder gently.

“You did so well baby” he whispers.

#supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #smut

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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Okay so I haven’t read lance angst in forever and decided to read some and I have just binge read all of the Beauty and the Beast klance au you just made and I absolutely ADORE it!!! It is so amazing and I love it so much!

It did make me curious what the whole ‘rescue’ scene is going to be, is the three people in the family who didn’t want Lance to marry the prince try to save him? Or is it going to go the totally different direction?

Cause I can imagine a scene where the village sees that Lance and Keith are actually going to work out and the family gets worried that Lance is going to try to get revenge on them/the whole village so they try to take Lance away from Keith. Or try to make it so Lance wouldn’t become King when they actually get married!

But anyways yeah I love this story, and how you’ve changed it up a bit so it’s different that the original Beauty and the Beast! Thanks for listening to my rant!

anon i am kissing you for asking. you are the love of my life and the wedding is this spring.

HERE WE GO:

important to remember: lance’s family, although not conventionally, care for him deeply. he struggles to conform to what the town expects and they are scared for him, so they struggle to make space for him in a way that makes him feel loved and included. he can’t keep up with his fathers or brothers on the farm, he gets along with animals better than people (and as such refuses to hunt them, despite his stellar aim), he has no friends because he is an Odd Person, he gets obsessive over small things, he cries all the time, he’s headstrong, he argues with everyone, he’s a klutz, just…so many things. he has skills and they know that but his skills aren’t helpful in the context of the farm. he is, however, helpful in that he can send back money from marrying the prince, and if he’s married to the prince, his family knows he’s safe and cared for in a way they maybe can’t provide for him.

with this in mind it’s obvious that there’s a lot of tension and complication between lance and his family, but lance KNOWS that they love him. take the first chapter with lance and marco, for example. it looks bad and it is bad, and lance is hurt, and marco refuses to help lance do what he desperately wants — go home. but marco isn’t doing it without guilt, and he’s also doing his best to make lance’s transition easier: “You’ve always wanted to live in a castle, right?”. despite the fact that his home life isn’t perfect, lance is in that castle missing his family. he wants his sisters and nieces and nephews and brothers. he wants his mom. they may not understand him but they love him and he knows that, and in that castle with, and i can’t say this enough, NO OTHER PEOPLE, he is going to miss shit like getting hugged, for fucks sake. lance is a touchy person and as close as he and hunk are doing to become hunk is a Literal Block Of Wood, and keith is going to be too closed off to provide any tactile affection for a While.

my plan is that after a few chapters of slowburn and building friendships, lance is going to get all morose and miserable. and keith, who is well beyond whipped at that point, is going to want to help. so one day lance is going to muster the courage to ask to have his family for a visit (“They’ll stay outside! I swear! They’ll have no chance of even seeing you, Keith, please, I missed bothering my brothers so much —”) and keith won’t even come close to denying him.

and because chekhov’s gun is the only thing i’ve got locked and loaded, obviously one of lances family members (probably one of the kids) is going to go wandering inside. and lance is going to try to stop it but it will be Too Late. they’re going to see keith and freak out, and since keith’s freak outs are very scary, it’s going to make the whole situation worse, and they’re going to drag lance back home kicking and screaming and when they come back with with the town and pitchforks.

the gaston of the story is going to be james, i think, and i’m gonna change the story a bit bc i’m gonna spend longer with lance back in town and he’s sullen and furious and desperate to convince everyone that keith is kind and soft and loving, really, and they have him all wrong. which of course does not help his case. but you all know how the rest of the story goes

but yeah!!!! i’m really very excited i love this story too, and changing it was inevitable but it’s been super fun to plan how i’m gonna adapt it!! i’m rly looking forward to writing all the sappy falling in love parts teehee

#keith is the bookworm so lance is not getting a library #can y’all guess what he’s getting instead 👀👀#OH GOD this is making me want to write more so bad #i was gonna try to sway the poll in the favour of the lost at sea au but…..#im on a batb kick babey #YALL BETTER FUCKINF READ IT THIS TIME I STG OR IM NOT GONNA POST CHAPTERS ANYMORE #I WILL DEADASS MAKE A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO INTERACT W THE POST AND DM THEM THE CHAPTERS INDIVIDUALLY I SWEAR TO FUCKINF GOD #whew.#klance #batb au #batb #ask

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shmaptainwrites · 6 months

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Any ideas about how Wilson might react to a significant (but obviously appropriate) age gap? And/or how the reader might comfort him?

-💋

i have fallen a bit behind on these were just gonna ignore that 💀also assuming you mean reader is younger with the age gap thing

for the most part, especially at the beginning of the relationship wilson doesn’t care much about your age difference, he’s obviously aware of it and conscious about the reality that because of that difference in ages there’s also maybe a difference in the way you grew up or how you understand things but it’s never presented itself as a barrier so he doesn’t really care

what sets him off however, is after the honeymoon stage where you’re keeping things on the down low and now things are out in the open, suddenly everyone has an opinion on your age difference and as much as wilson doesn’t want to admit it, it gets to him

he finds himself wondering more and more if this makes sense and is a good idea for you both and he finds it interesting that despite all the comments people make you remain unbothered. this is one of those instances where his insecurities pop up a little bit and he chalks up your nonchalance to the fact that if things were to end between you, you’d definitely be better off, you were young, intelligent, beautiful, and there were probably a million and one people looking to have what he did and you would have no difficulty in finding someone to replace him, he on the other hand, figured he got lucky with you and that if you decided to listen to what the others were saying, that luck would run out

maybe it comes up one night in bed, you’re reading a book and wilson is doing a crossword and he asks you out of nowhere if it bothers you that he’s older than you. you’re a little taken aback initially, not sure where the question came from, but you’re quick to assure him it’s not something you even think about, but then you ask him if it bothers him and he has to take a moment to think about it before sharing that it didn’t but now with what everyone is saying he’s wondering if it should

you try to tell him he can’t listen to people who haven’t taken the time to know you as a couple, people just make snap judgements about what they see and for you both it’s the fact that wilson is older than you. you ask him if he loves you and he nods he says “of course i do” and you respond with “i do too, and that’s all that should matter”

it’s very simple, but it helps him rationalize things and push away those thoughts that come up when other people are talking about the two of you, because you’re right, all that matters in the end is that you both love each other

send me your sfw RSL character x reader thoughts

→ accepting asks for james wilson, cruise, and peter müller

→ i’ve seen up to 6x3 of house — NO SPOILERS PLEASE

#mimi answers #mimi’s wilson thoughts #💋 anon #james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #house md

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anaslair · 8 months

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I’m a straight Bengali girl (daughter of Aphrodite), who’s a little chubby and has a lot of acne scars (both of which I’m insecure about, though, I’ve been staring to like my acne scars lately). I wear glasses and without them, the world around me is very blurry. I’m pretty shy and nervous, so I sort of have trouble speaking to strangers or people I don’t know well. But once I’m comfortable around you and we mutually see each other as friends, I’m able to show you my chaotic side and feel comfortable saying some pretty wild things. I also make quite a few sexual jokes. Though I am more comfortable to speak freely with my friends, if I’m in a relatively big group that consists of my friends, I get really nervous speaking in front of all of them, so I opt to talk to individuals rather than the collective. I crave for physical affection but I never ask for it because I’ll feel bad if I get rejected of such, so I’ll wait til someone decide to give me affection. I’m a huge romantic fan and love reading romance stories or fanfic, and I love men who are completely obsessed with you. If I’m going to be honest, I feel more attracted to depressed or sad men rather than happy or cheerful men. I love eating food, but don’t really like eating in front of people much cause I always feel like I’m being judge for the way I eat even if that’s not actually the case. I can’t help it, so I prefer to eat alone. My favourite food is chicken curry and rice! I have trouble keeping eye contact so I usually look somewhere else while talking to people, but I do occasionally (while in the conversation) do make eye contact. There are times where it takes time for my brain to process some situations or dialogue, and I have an awfully memory. I also hate reading out load cause my brain takes time to process the words on the paper for me to read out load, so it makes me say the words out load slowly and almost choppy, you know? I love my friends very much and always love to hang out with them, even if we are simply in a room together only doing our own thing. I just like being in their presence. Though, once my social battery runs out, I’d like to be alone in my room (though, I I have a romantic partner, I wouldn’t mind them being with me). I’m always open to be their for my friends if they are down and listen to their problems, but not good at verbally comforting them, so I’m open for providing them physical comfort such as a hug or rubbing their back if that’s what they want. If I don’t anything embarrassing, I will constantly think about the moment for years and best myself over it and mentally redo that whole conversation or action in a way better way that I should have done to have not embarrassed myself earlier, you know? I very kind and often give people the benefit of the doubt, and I’m sort of a pushover, but I’m still able to say no to situations that make me uncomfortable.

I love reading, drawing, and creating ocs and world building. I’m such a mythology nerd, especially when it comes to Greek mythology (I have many books about these myths). I absolutely hate bugs and because of them, I hate being in forests and such cause I always get swarmed by them. I’m also afraid of the dark, so when I sleep, I leave my door open and the hallway light on.

My matchups are usually long like this so that’s why they may take a little while to come out 🥸 pls bear with me guys 🫶

Hope you like it anon!! Have a great day and tysm for requesting!!! <3

I match you with…

Luke Castellan!!

(Let’s all collectively join hands and pretend he didn’t die 🫰)

After the second titan war was officially over, Luke went through a lot before finally being able to return to camp

He did literally stab himself to end Kronos’s reign of terror, so after a long fight discussion amongst the gods, it was decided he should be given a second chance at life. A brand new start

Not without cleaning his mess first though. He was assigned by the gods to send a load of monsters he recruited for Kronos back to Tartarus, while simultaneously healing from his fatal wound

Even under Apollo’s direct care, the injury left a huge, nasty scar on his body

Honestly, he preferred facing whatever punishment Hades had for him in the Underworld than helping any god. But he owed everyone (specially Annabeth and Thalia, his real family) an apology and to make things right

So he killed a shitload of monsters, (complained the whole time)

When he finally got back to camp, he almost couldn’t believe how much it had changed. The place was PACKED with new campers (and they were not all cramped in his cabin like usual 😱)

And there were twice as many cabins too??? for the smaller gods???

Was he at the right place?😀 Was he actually dead?🧍‍♂️

Took a lot of explaining for him to believe he wasn’t

The thought of demigods not having to go through what he went through was incredible, but hard to believe

A bit bittersweet for him too

On top of that, it took a lot of time and effort to regain everyone’s trust on him

Even with all the new space available in the Hermes cabin, he had to sleep on the ground for a long time before his siblings let him have a bed 💀

He had to prove himself for a long time before everyone started opening up to him again

Slowly but surely, it started to happen!! Annabeth and most of the campers got back to speaking terms with him, Thalia visited sometimes and Percy was still a little sus every time they interacted (specially when Annabeth was in the room🤷‍♀️) but it eventually got better

It wasn’t the same as before of course, which made him feel…lonely most of the time. It wasn’t perfect, but he was grateful for at least not being completely ignored

Travis and Connor even stole a new pillow for him after a while of him sleeping without any 👏

Soon enough, life was almost normal again (as normal as a demigod’s life could get)

He did live with an imense sense of guilt and had recurring nightmares about what happened, accompanied with sharp pains on his chest, right where he stabbed himself

But it was a small price to pay for all the pain he caused, he thought

Eventually, he became head counselor of the Herme’s cabin again and Chiron gave him permission to teach sword lessons to the newest campers.

Life was as good as it could get for him, for sure

Though it definitely got a million times better with you in it

You were one of the new campers, practically Luke’s age when you arrived, which got yourself urgent self defense lessons with Mr. Castellan himself

He was the ideal person for the job, being the best swordsman on camp and all

Chiron also knew Luke had a way of making newcomers feel welcomed, being used to do it with practically every new kid in camp before the war

So, as Luke made his way to your first lesson, he tried to come up with a way to politely ask you how you survived all this time without proper training-

Only to give it up as soon as he laid his eyes on you

Of course you were a daughter of Aphrodite, you were drop dead gorgeous. Probably survived all this time outside camp by using the power her kids inherited, charmspeak

All of that was going through his head while he intensely stared at you without saying a word 🗿

Making you nervously eye him back 👁️👁️

Noticing you were getting anxious, he snapped out of it, the very tip of his ears getting slightly red

Quickly introducing himself as your new self defense teacher, he offered a hand for you to shake

To which you did after a bit of an awkward pause, nodding at his words. He seemed like a confident, nice guy

He took it you were a bit shy so he made sure to try and not to make you uncomfortable while teaching you some basic sword moves and techniques

You were doing your best to keep up but honestly felt like straight up dying everytime Luke asked you to repeat a move

The sword was heavy and the afternoon was hot, making you sweat profusely

That’s when everything went downhill :)

Your glasses just wouldn’t stay still in your face, the sweat making them slip down your nose every time you tried a new move

Right as you were about to swing your sword for the millionth time, your glasses fully fell off your face, making you flail the big weapon around uncontrollably

Coincidentally chopping a good amount of Chiron’s tail off, who was just passing by to check on your progress

Chiron promised he needed a new trim anyway, but that didn’t stop you from apologizing almost a thousand times and sitting down with your face buried in your hands

The situation amused Luke profusely, but he could also tell you were seriously beating yourself up about it

So after thinking for a while, he gently tapped you on the arm, showing you small scar he had on his forearm

He told you it was from his first ever sword lesson, but it wasn’t caused by a sword

When you gave him a confused look, he told you it was a consequence of accidentally poking a Pegasus’s bottom with a sharp weapon

You tried not to, but you laughed right at his face

Which made Luke smile as well, you had a cute laugh

After that, you slowly started opening up to your sword teacher, who actually got attached to you pretty quickly

Y’alls friendship was honestly precious oml, he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were completely unhinged when y’all were alone, which got both of you a lot of inside jokes

When you first made a sexual joke in front of him he was completely shook

You were in the middle of training, making him accidentally cut a whole training doll in half after you said it

Who knew that something like that could come out of a shy person like yourself

He laughed and threw a dirty joke right back at you, but his ears were completely red in the process

The first time he had one of his pain streaks next to you he got really stressed out, not really wanting to talk about the origin of his injury

Partially because it was tremendously hard for him to talk about his past, but also because he was afraid you’d hate him for it

But you never pressured him to say anything, just sat beside him with a hand on his back for support, furrowed brows in concern as you waited for his pain to pass

He absolutely adored you for that

He didn’t feel alone anymore

He’s a naturally attentive person so he can always tell when you’re uncomfortable in social situations, always making sure that everything you’re saying is getting the correct amount of attention, even if he was the only one listening to it

Everyone knew he kind of had a soft spot for you (totally unrelated to the crush he was developing on you)

He always went easy on you at sparring lessons, just to absolutely humiliate whoever was next against him by winning in seconds

He sneaked food into your cabin when you absolutely could not stand eating with everyone else at the dining pavilion

(anyone else would probably get caught in the act and get absolutely wrecked by the harpies, but he was a son of the god of thieves so 😋)

Kept you close during capture the flag, not only to keep an eye on you but also because he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were more scared of the bugs than the monsters who lived inside the woods

You dealt with the monsters and he jabbed all the bugs on the way, you made a pretty good team

It was pretty obvious he had a thing for you, everyone knew about it but you apparently

I mean, he stole got you a whole deck of mythomagic cards because he knew you were totally obsessed with mythology, the guy was pretty much down bad for you pls 😩

And honestly, you felt the exact same way

It was pretty clear in the way your face got full on red every time he had any type of physical contact with you

He adored it and absolutely did it on purpose just to get a reaction out of you

He wanted to let you know how he felt, he really did

But on top of not wanting to risk your friendship, he was deathly afraid you’d absolutely despise him after you found out about his past

It was only a matter of time anyway, but he was going to avoid it as much as he could

Although you found out way sooner and it went WAY better than he expected

It was a warm night and you were awfully quiet, more than usual

It wasn’t because your social battery went out. No… he knew something was up by the way you hugged yourself tightly, touching your face from time to time

He asked if you wanted to hang out by the beach for a bit, to which you silently agreed

Y’all sat in silence for a while, Luke giving you concerned side eyes from time to time

He eventually spoke up, saying you could talk to him about anything you wanted to, he’d listen

Your eyes watered a bit. You breathed out and eventually told him that some days, you had a bit of trouble accepting your current weight and your acne scars

You told him you were working on it but some days were harder than others

Honestly, he was bamboozled lol

He could never imagine someone as beautiful as you had those kind of insecurities

Before even thinking about it, he said you were absolutely perfect in his eyes

It was the first thing he thought when he met you actually

You almost choked on air bro WHAT

Your face was COMPLETELY red, about to explode🚨

Ears fully red after realizing how he slipped, he quickly continued, telling you that he also understood how you felt

He touched the scar he had on his face, lowering his hand to touch the one on his chest right after

You knew something bad had happened to him. But you also knew he had to tell you on his own terms

You just softly repeated what he told you

“You can talk to me about anything you want to, I’ll listen”

His eyes met yours and you were surprised by how much sadness they held in that moment

He shifted his gaze from you to the sand, taking handfulls of it just to let it fall from his fingers as he told you about his past

He told you everything

“You can… cut contact with me if you want to, I’ll understand-“

He was suddenly interrupted by you hugging him

He was surprised to say the least, arms slowly closing around you after some time as he let out a shaky breath

You both sat like that for a while before you told him that none of what he said changed the way you felt about him, everyone deserved a second chance

Wait

The way… you felt about him?

Oop

He pulled apart from you gently, still holding you close in front of him

“Exactly how do you feel about me?”

You had no choice but to confess, face fully red and straight up stuttering the whole time

He smile was HUGE oh my gods that little shit was enjoying every second of it

When you finished, you were trembling a bit, afraid you just ruined the best friendship you ever had

Imagine your surprise when he slowly leaned in, kissing you

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson books #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #the heroes of olympus #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #chalice of the gods #percy series #matchups #fanfic #fanfiction

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midnightinwales · 7 months

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@grapesnolives thank you for the link, I'll check it out during the weekend. I agree that their experimentation is always beautiful and fascinating to hear. They had singular sensitivity to the emotion – sound axis. And you can never be bored with it.

I've moved us to a new post, since our conversation is veering off the topic of the original post and I think we've hijacked enough of that already ;)

Unfortunately, I don't have the source for that quote about Robert, as I have been consuming a lot (and I mean A LOT) about LZ in the past few months, but in quite a chaotic manner and I haven't been taking notes. But If I come across it again, I'll send it to you. I was also surprised by it, but I guess it makes sense, since it was originally Jimmy's band and I believe that as time went by and Jimmy was losing his grip on reality more and more, Robert might have felt constricted a bit or started to develop a need for more independence. Nothing unusual in that, it happens in pretty much any band. He might have also been genuinely annoyed at the endless solos, quite like Bonzo, and JPJ probably too. I mean, to make a six and a half minutes long song into 45 minutes is both amazing and unnecessary lol. And Robert did have a bit of an imposter syndrome, still has, actually. He often spoke about them as 'three musicians and me'. 'I'm just a wedding singer who sang with musicians', and how his elaborate singing style developed as a method to stay in the song, cause the long musical intervals made him feel irrelevant. He definitely wanted to impress Jimmy and there was a lot of reverence for him as the worldly, knowledgeable, experienced musician who created his own band. But that began to disappear when Jimmy got heavily into heroin imo and definitely lost after 1977. Robert's priorities changed. His view of life changed. The love was still there, but Jimmy was no longer someone that Robert had to live up to, so to speak. Now he was someone to protect (and, in a way, someone to mourn). But the initial experiences formed Robert as a singer, set his standards and informed his view of musical expression.

I've also noticed that he makes fun of Bonzo (the diarrhea jokes will live with me forever, thanks Bob :/ ) and JPJ (and himself, occasionally), but not of Jimmy. IMO that's because he and Bonzo were 'bros', mates, and that's typical friendly behaviour in this kind of relation. JPJ was also a guy in the band and concert is entertainment, so it's only fair to make people laugh. It created a sense of dynamics, each band member had his quirks and image to play with. But with Jimmy he is only ever sweet and attentive. Not least because Jimmy Page can't take a joke imo. He's quite fragile and Robert knew it very, very well. But this doesn't read to me as reverential, but rather as caring. He knew not to make Jimmy the centre of attention that he might not see as entirely friendly. And his mysterious image had to be uphold too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but whenever Robert speaks to Jimmy his tone of voice slightly changes. It becomes softer and warmer. ‘is it alright, love?’ kind of thing. He definitely wanted to be in Jimmy’s good books and for more than one reason.

I’m not surprised you thought they were a duet, seeing the photos. I recall seeing photos of LZ throughout my life and they’ve always been focused on J and R. I didn’t know what the other band members looked like before I started listening to the band. I knew Bonzo’s name because of his tragic death, like I do many other musicians’ who met their ends way too early, and knew that he is recognised as one of the, if not the greatest rock drummer of all times. But that was about it. IMO, he is the greatest of them all and he’s the only one whose drumming makes me genuinely tear up. There is as much emotion in Bonzo’s drumming as there is in Robert’s singing. Astonishing.

If you’re asking how I got into the story of J and R, it was quite simple really. I remembered the photos I’ve mentioned (mostly the WLL mic in the hair singing) which have always looked very suggestive to me and had heard before that part of the magic of LZ was the interplay between the two, and so when I finally got into their music I started doing my research to see if my initial impression was correct. And found plenty of evidence to confirm it, some of it much more straightforward then expected. But if you’re asking how I got into LZ then I’d say it was time for them to come into my life. One night on YT they appeared on my list and the journey began. I knew some of their songs before (STH, WLL, Dazed, a couple of others) and I had quite an emotional experience listening to Stairway as a young teenager, but that was the extent of it. I firmly believe that music comes to us at the right time and there’s no point in forcing it. It will find you if it’s meant to. And it will be a journey you’ll never forget.

Have you always been interested in drumming or is it the first time when it has captured your attention so much? Have you been into LZ for a long time?

#led zeppelin musings

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archiveikemen · 2 months

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Abe no Yasuchika • Sutokuin/Akihito Main Story: Chapter 3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary

Akihito: By the way, aren’t you afraid of talking to me like this?

Yuno: Huh?

Akihito-sama’s handsome face drew closer, sending my heart racing.

Akihito: I’m well aware that I was once a terrifying enemy to you.

Abysmal eyes stared intently at me, it was like they were staring right into the depths of my heart.

(Deception definitely won’t work on Akihito-sama.)

Yuno: … That’s true. You were indeed terrifying as an enemy.

I weaved my web of words while cautiously sounding my thoughts.

Yuno: But strangely, I no longer fear you.

Yuno: I also recently learned that you have a surprisingly awkward side to you.

(Both Yasuchika-san and Akihito-sama… the two of them were different from their usual elusive selves.)

(I feel like I’m starting to understand what kind of people they are, even just a little bit.)

Akihito: Awkward, huh. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

Yuno: Ah, I’m sorry, it was my mistake… but I didn’t mean it in a negative way at all!

(That was indeed disrespectful of me.)

Akihito: It’s fine. I don’t deny that I’ve shown you some rather disgraceful sides of me today.

Yasuchika: When I asked you to check on Yasuchika for me during the day for instance, and right now.

Yuno: No, I don’t think you’re acting disgraceful.

Yuno: … Instead, I think you’re the kind of person to treat what’s precious to you with a lot of care.

Akihito: You mean Yasuchika?

Yuno: Yes.

I nodded and Akihito-sama stared reminiscently into the distance..

Akihito: It’s because that boy and I met in a rather unique way.

(I really wonder what happened between them.)

However, I figured that it would be too inappropriate to casually ask such a personal question, so I perished the thought and watched his calm side profile.

Akihito-sama said nothing more, then he suddenly smiled at me.

Akihito: — Sorry. I made you listen to my rambling.

Yuno: It’s fine. Um…

When Akihito-sama tried to end the conversation, I spontaneously stopped him.

(I want to at least tell him this much.)

Yuno: You mentioned earlier that you feel confused about receiving the Hero’s Power…

Yuno: I believe there was surely a meaning behind specifically the two of you being chosen as heroes.

Akihito: A meaning…?

Yuno: Yes. The Yamata no Orochi said that we won’t be given a trial we can’t conquer.

Yuno: If both of you work together, there might be a way through this.

(I don’t know the relationship between Akihito-sama and Yasuchika-san very well, but—)

(I can see that they both care deeply about each other.)

Akihito-sama chuckled at my words.

Akihito: … You’re right. After hearing you say that, I’m starting to feel that way too.

Yuno: My apologies. That was impertinent of me…

Akihito: No, I thank you for saying that.

Akihito: Yasuchika and I are undeniably a little cowardly.

Akihito: That’s why it might be best to have someone straightforward like you as a medium of the underworld.

(Akihito-sama…)

(I still don’t know what I can contribute to this war… but at least, I hope to be a form of support to Akihito-sama and Yasuchika-san.)

…

Not long after, there were reportedly sightings of the undead in a province not far from Kamakura.

(According to the report submitted to the Shogunate, they should be around here.)

To avoid causing damage to the nearby village, we divided ourselves into teams to patrol the area.

(From the Shogunate, there’s Shigehira-kun, Rikka, and Tamamo; while the Rebel Army assigned Benkei to guard the other side of the village.)

(I’m patrolling this area alongside Akihito-sama, Yasuchika-san, and Ibuki, but—)

Signs of the undead were nowhere to be seen, so we decided to wait for a while.

Soldiers dispatched from the Shogunate were in the vicinity.

Soldier 1: Still, I never expected us to end up being under the lead of some suspicious person from the Imperial Court.

Soldier 2: Shh! He can hear you. You never know where Yasuchika-dono placed his shikigami.

(As expected, there’s still some distrust towards the Imperial Court.)

(Although it’s understandable if you think about what happened between us in the past, but I wonder if we’ll work together just fine.)

Rikka: Found you, Yuno.

Yuno: Rikka!

Yuno: What’s the matter? Did something happen to Shigehira-kun and the others?

Rikka: Nah, I was told to check on you. They’re doing fine over there.

(That’s a relief…)

Rikka: … In any case, Shigehira is really harsh when it comes to making use of ayakashi.

Rikka continued languidly.

Rikka: I only took a short break and he’s already back to get me to work, and he tells me to come check on you the moment I have any free time.

(That’s how hardworking Shigehira-kun is…)

In contrast to that, while Rikka has been cooperative with us so far, he still has the carefree nature of an ayakashi.

(Before we set out, he was making snow sculptures in the corner of the room during the war council.)

Rikka: Where are Akihito and Yasuchika?

Yuno: They’re checking on the situation over there with Ibuki. Should I call them over?

Rikka: Nah, no need. I’d rather you not.

Rikka firmly declined.

(What’s wrong?)

While I internally questioned the tone of his response, Rikka’s gaze shifted to something behind me.

Rikka: … Speak of the devil, Yasuchika’s here. Help me out, Yuno.

Yuno: Huh?

I thought I felt two hands on my shoulders and was immediately spun around.

A little distance from us, I spotted Yasuchika-san and Akihito-sama returning after completing their checks.

(Perfect timing.)

Yuno: Akihito-sama! Yasuchika-san! Rikka’s here to check on us.

The two of them noticed us and started walking in our direction.

But before they reached us, Rikka hastily leaned in and whispered in my ear.

Rikka: I’ve passed the message to you. I’ll get going now.

Yuno: Eh? Why…

I turned around to see that Rikka had already disappeared.

(When did he…!?)

Yasuchika: Aww, he escaped.

Yasuchika-san’s shoulders slumped while walking up to me.

Akihito: He’s quite a cunning ayakashi to use Yuno as a shield.

Yasuchika: It’s not like I’m going to do anything to him. Right, Yuno-san?

Yuno: It could be that you’ve already done something to him…

Yasuchika: Hmm… just a little bit!

(I knew it!)

Yasuchika: All I did was have him cooperate with me for a little experiment.

Yasuchika: Ri-chan always gets irritated quickly and escapes the moment I take my eyes off him, so the experiment failed.

Akihito: Attempting to force him into making a pact with you was a bad idea, I guess.

(H-he did WHAT…!?)

Yasuchika: It was worth a try! By nature, it’s impossible for an Onmyōji to make a pact with an ayakashi, however—

Yasuchika: I thought it might work given my current state whereby I can’t use my Onmyō magic like I usually do.

Yasuchika: If I were to make a pact with a powerful ayakashi, I could use its abilities in place of Onmyō magic alongside the Hero’s Power to fight.

Yuno: So you’re still having trouble using your Onmyō magic after all?

Yasuchika: It’s not completely unusable. I managed to develop a technique to control the power just in time.

Yasuchika: In fact, I’m actually using a shikigami to do the scouting right now.

(Thank goodness…)

I heaved a sigh of relief when I recalled how cornered Yasuchika looked the last time.

Yasuchika: … However, I have to suppress the Hero’s Power when using Onmyō magic; and I can’t use Onmyō magic when using the Hero’s Power.

Akihito: So that means it’s difficult to deal a fatal blow to the undead using Onmyō magic.

Yasuchika: That’s correct.

Yasuchika-san nodded at Akihito-sama and turned his gaze back onto me.

Yasuchika: Therefore, my weapon in this battle will be a sword infused with the Hero’s Power.

(I see…)

Yuno: It really is impossible to use Onmyō magic and the Hero’s Might together at the same time after all, huh.

Yasuchika: To put it bluntly, yes. Well, there are other methods, but—

Yasuchika: Attempting to forcibly use both powers simultaneously would cause them to go out of control.

Yuno: In other words, it’s dangerous?

Yasuchika: Yeah, I’d rather not do that. There’s a possibility of it affecting Akihito-sama too.

Akihito: …

The look on Akihito-sama’s face looked like he wanted to say something but decided not to.

(Could Akihito-sama also know about that other method?)

Yasuchika: However, it’s fine if we don’t use that method.

Yasuchika: I may not be as skilled a fighter as the warriors, my swordsmanship is decent enough.

(Everything will definitely be alright if Yasuchika-san says so… I guess.)

Akihito: By the way, what did Rikka come to tell us?

Yuno: He only said he was here to check on us. It looks like Shigehira-kun and the others haven’t encountered any undead either.

The moment I said that, Yasuchika-san looked up as though he just sensed something.

Yuno: Yasuchika-san?

Yasuchika: — They're here.

Soldier 1: AAAAAHHH! MONSTERS!

Yuno: …!

The soldiers could be heard screaming from the bushes.

The soldiers who were resting immediately stood up and drew their swords.

Akihito: Looks like this is where we’ll be fighting them.

Yasuchika: Akihito-sama, the sorcery tools.

The two put on their respective forehead ornaments.

(…!)

When the light faded away—

I gasped at the sight of their new appearances.

Yasuchika: …! This is…

Akihito: I’m assuming this is due to the cursed powers of the ayakashi.

(They look like… they have matching appearances.)

Their almost otherworldly mystical appearances had me gazing admiringly at them.

Yasuchika: Let’s go, Akihito-sama.

Akihito: Yuno, try not to leave our side.

Yuno: … Okay!

The instant they headed in the direction of the screaming—

Grotesque-looking creatures emerged from among the trees.

(T-those are the undead…)

Undead: Gyaaaa!

The undead let out ear-piercing cries as they approached us.

While everyone froze in fear from seeing those creatures for the first time, Akihito-sama stepped forward and removed his bracelet.

Akihito: Stop moving.

(Is that his kotodama…?)

The undead’s movements slowed for a brief moment before they quickly recovered and started running towards us.

Akihito: … I see. It’s just as I expected, kotodama is barely effective on them.

Akihito: In that case—

Akihito-sama raised his hand, and a bolt of lightning struck the undead.

Undead 2: Eeek…!

The undead that were burnt by the lightning turned into ashes.

However, a new wave of undead trampled over the ashes and rushed towards us.

(There’s more…!)

At the same time my body tensed up, another bolt of lightning struck the undead.

Ibuki: Looks like it started while I was away, huh.

Yuno: Ibuki…!

Ibuki: It’s still too early to relax.

The fallen undead rose again.

Undead 3: Kill the living! Kill them!

Undead 4: Kill them!

Newly spawned undead poured out from among the trees, increasing in number and attacking us relentlessly.

The horrifying scene was so repulsing, my legs nearly gave out due to my natural instincts.

Soldier 2: W-what the hell is that…

Soldier 3: Damn it! There’s no way we can fight those things.

(Oh no, some of the soldiers are entering a state of panic…!)

Some of the soldiers went into chaos and started running away from the undead instead of fighting them.

Ibuki: How disappointing that they’re abandoning their duties just because their own general isn’t here.

Ibuki: This battle is going to be a tough one, huh? Akihito.

Akihito: Unfortunately so, but we can’t do without them.

With a charming smile, Akihito-sama summoned a bolt of lightning in the path of the fleeing soldiers.

Soldier 1: Eek!

Akihito: There’s no running away. If all of you are truly that afraid, I can just use kotodama on you.

Akihito: However, wouldn’t you rather face the enemies with your own convictions than be controlled like puppets to fight against your wills?

Soldier 2: Ugh…

Soldiers: We have no other choice but to fight…! Damn it.

(… Akihito-sama is indeed terrifying on the battlefield.)

Yasuchika: Everyone’s looking motivated! Looks like I should keep up too.

He drew his sword that emitted an eerie glow.

Yasuchika: I won’t allow them to go near Akihito-sama again.

Yasuchika-san stood at the front and cut down the approaching undead, his movements graceful like he were dancing.

Akihito: As expected of you, Yasuchika. But you should leave me some opportunities to shine too.

Akihito-sama’s lightning ability burnt a wide range of enemies to ashes—

While Yasuchika-san finished off the undead that managed to survive Akihito-sama’s attacks.

Soldier 1: We might actually win if we keep this up! Chaaarrrgeee!

With a battle cry to boost their morale, the previously frightened soldiers charged at the undead all at once.

(I can’t believe the two of them aren’t at their fullest potential yet.)

Akihito: It seems that the Necromancer is continuously summoning the undead while hiding somewhere.

Yasuchika: I’ve made the necessary preparations for my shikigami to request for reinforcements if we get attacked.

Yasuchika: Therefore, if we could just hold on a little more, we might be able to find the Necromancer.

Yasuchika-san’s words sounded slightly reassuring.

However, more undead kept on appearing with every one we defeated…

Yasuchika: ggh…

Yasuchika-san let out a small groan and retreated to my side.

Beads of sweat could be seen on his forehead.

Yuno: Yasuchika-san, are you in pain—

Yasuchika: I’m fine. It’s just that fighting this violently isn’t something I’m used to doing.

His response was as nonchalant as usual, and yet…

I knew very well that Yasuchika-san was the type of person to push himself too far over the edge while pretending everything was fine.

(Whenever Yasuchika-san uses the Hero’s Power, he constantly has to suppress his Onmyō magic.)

(It’s definitely much more complicated than it looks.)

Akihito: Step back, Yasuchika. I can handle the rest.

Yasuchika: I can’t do that. Akihito-sama, your ability isn’t meant to be used repeatedly.

Yasuchika: If you push yourself any further than this, it’ll harm your body.

(T-that’s…)

(But we’ve already sent a request for reinforcements to Shigehira-kun and the others. If we could just hold out a little longer until they arrive…!)

I could feel their frustration from being unable to fight, I prayed hard for reinforcements to arrive sooner and that was when—

The trees rustled and a man came forward from amongst the undead.

(This one is different from the undead.)

Akihito: Looks like the mastermind has finally shown himself.

Yasuchika: That’s the Necromancer…

Necromancer: All you annoying heroes, how dare you despicably change the course of fate and cling to your lives so desperately.

Necromancer: Kill the heroes first! We can finish off the rest of them after.

More undead emerged from the ground in response to the Necromancer’s command.

(T-this is endless…!)

Despite being cut down, the undead rushed past the soldiers towards Yasuchika-san and Akihito-sama.

Yasuchika: Apparently it seems that they’ve locked onto us.

Akihito: Ibuki. I leave Yuno to you.

(Wha…)

Akihito-sama gave me a hard push on the back towards Ibuki who caught me.

Ibuki: Oof. You’re being unusually rough.

Akihito: I’ll apologise later.

I caught a brief glimpse of Akihito-sama’s smile directed at me before the newly emerged undead obstructed my view.

Before we knew it, Ibuki and I were outside the circle of undead.

Yuno: But the two of them…!

Ibuki: Be good and step back. Losing the medium of the underworld would be too big of a blow. c

The smile on Ibuki’s lips made him seem as though he were enjoying the situation.

Ibuki: For now, we can only attack from the outside to support them.

Ibuki: Also, this is as far as those two can go if they don’t make it out alive.

(What…!?)

Yasuchika: … This would’ve been a child’s play if I could effectively use Onmyō magic.

Akihito: Say, Yasuchika. What we’re doing right now looks really out of character for us, don’t you think?

Yasuchika: You’re right. Akihito-sama aside, I shudder at the thought of being called a hero.

Akihito: But we were chosen to be the holders of this power.

Yasuchika: …

Akihito: Like Yuno said, there must be a meaning behind specifically the two of us being chosen.

Akihito: When she puts it that way, I can’t help but to live up to the expectations of a hero. c

Akihito: But looking at our current situation, winning is impossible. So how about we make a bet?

Yasuchika: A bet…?

Akihito: You still have another trump card, don’t you? I’ve been thinking the same thing.

Yasuchika: We absolutely can’t do that. If it fails, you’ll be affected by it too.

Akihito: I don’t want to do it either. — I don’t want to curse you.

(… What on earth are they talking about?)

The disturbing conversation gave me the chills.

Akihito: But I still want to give it a try because we can’t afford to die here.

Yasuchika: …

Akihito: I believe you can succeed, Yasuchika.

Akihito: Do you not trust me?

Yasuchika: …! That’s not the case at all.

Yasuchika: Ahh fine, please hate me forever if I fail!

Seemingly having given in to despair, Yasuchika muttered something under his breath.

The hand he stretched out towards Akihito-sama contained a ball of light.

Yasuchika: — Let’s do this.

Akihito-sama nodded and held his hand out to the light.

Akihito: Two powers that devour each other. Tame them, accept them. The soul becomes a vessel, creating an even greater power.

Ibuki: … Heh, looks like they came up with something interesting.

The sides of Ibuki’s lips lifted into a grin while he attacked the undead from the outside.

(Could it be… Yasuchika-san is mixing his Onmyō magic with both of their Hero’s Power?)

As the ball of light in their hands glowed brighter, Yasuchika-san’s face twisted in agony for a moment.

Yasuchika: ugh…

Akihito: Yasuchika.

Yasuchika: … This level of power is nothing to me.

Yasuchika: — After all, I am THE prodigious Onmyōji!

The light focused between their hands.

Akihito: Well done.

Yasuchika: You too, Akihito-sama; for improvising on such a reckless plan.

Yasuchika: These powers normally wouldn’t merge with each other, but you made it possible to turn them into a new kind of power by cursing me.

Akihito: It feels good being praised by you.

Akihito: That said, your trust in me and non-resistance to my curse were crucial in leading to the success of our plan.

Yasuchika: Of course I have trust in you completely, Akihito-sama.

Akihito: — Well then, shall we finish this once and for all?

The ball of light burst and sent the surrounding undead flying before going on to engulf the Necromancer.

Yuno: Amazing…

Both the undead and the soldiers paused their fighting momentarily to stare in awe at the scene unfolding before their eyes.

After the light dispersed…

The Necromancer, dragging his body on the verge of collapsing, glared at the two men.

Necromancer: If I’m going to be defeated here… I’ll make sure to at least drag one of you down with me!

Several newly appeared undead emerged around the Necromancer.

Yasuchika: You don’t know when to give up, huh.

Yasuchika-san chanted something to activate another spell.

As though intending to take advantage of the opportunity, the Necromancer threw what appeared to be a dagger in Yasuchika-san’s direction.

Yuno: Watch out!

Yasuchika: …!

There was no way his Onmyō magic or special abilities would react in time.

In the moment I felt my stomach drop—

(Ah.)

Akihito-sama threw himself in front of Yasuchika-san, shielding him with his body.

Akihito: Ggh…

Akihito-sama took the dagger instead and fell to his knees.

Yasuchika: Akihito-sama…?

Yuno: A-are you alright?

Akihito: Just a scratch, it’s no big deal.

I ran over to Akihito-sama’s side.

His kimono was torn at the shoulder, revealing the wound caused by the dagger.

(The wound is indeed not deep enough to cause any serious problems. But in this condition…)

Akihito-sama’s breathing was laboured and he struggled to stand.

Yuno: Could the Hero’s Power be going out of control…?

Akihito: … It seems so. I can’t believe that out of all times, I’m rendered unable to move in a time like this.

Yasuchika: — How dare you injure Akihito-sama.

At the sound of Yasuchika-san’s chilling voice, I looked up to see him casting a spell towards the Necromancer.

The Necromancer didn’t even have the chance to cry out at his moment of death before turning into particles and disappearing into the wind.

Yasuchika: Yuno-san, let’s move Akihito-sama somewhere safe.

Yuno: Y-yes! If I’m not mistaken, there should be a small hut over there—

Undead: Kill both heroes!

Undead 2: Kill them…!

(Oh no, we must do something about the remaining undead…!)

The approaching undead were suddenly sent flying by a roaring bolt of lightning.

Ibuki: The soldiers and I will stall them until Shigehira arrives, he should be here soon.

Yuno: Ibuki…

Yasuchika: Akihito-sama, please hold onto me.

Akihito: Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.

Yasuchika: I should be the one apologising. Why did you shield me…?

Yasuchika: — Nevermind that. Most importantly, we should get you treated at once.

…

Yasuchika-san swallowed the words he wanted to say and carried Akihito-sama to a nearby hut with a pained expression.

Yasuchika: I have to leave to deal with the remaining undead.

Yasuchika: Just in case, I’ll station a few soldiers to stand guard outside the hut.

Yuno: Understood. You should be careful too, Yasuchika-san.

Yasuchika: I’ll be fine. More importantly—

Yasuchika-san looked at me with worried eyes.

Yasuchika: Please, I leave Akihito-sama in your care.

(Yasuchika-san… he must be feeling responsible for Akihito-sama’s injury.)

Wanting to give him even just a little bit of reassurance, I nodded firmly.

Yuno: It’s alright, I will. Please leave him to me.

#ikemen genjiden #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikegen translations #otome #ikegen main story #yasuchika akihito main story

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