#which should be easy since its halfway done already

[teteminne]

In honour of the new wonderful news of the jonsa gothic horror movie coming up, I just posted chapter twenty-four of flatlands!!!

#jonsa #flatlands the fic #sansa stark #jon snow #jonsa fic #it is a bit of a filler chapter but has some important things that had to be added in #ill try to post the next one soon #which should be easy since its halfway done already #jonsa fix-it #fix-it fic

[turbulentscrawl]

A Little Support

The boys just need a little love to ease the pain <3

Prisoner/Luca Balsa x reader | Prospector/Norton Campbell x reader

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Norton Campbell

Yesterday he had a fight with Naib. A real fight, not their usual argumentative banter. It had almost come to blows too, you heard, until Norton suddenly turned on his heels and locked himself in his room. He’d been there ever since.

You were close enough with Norton to know the two sides of his proverbial flipping-coin. The face he showed yesterday wouldn’t have stayed locked away for long; it was too restless, too confrontational. Which meant the venom of the altercation had flipped him back to the safer, melancholy face you were so familiar with.

So here you were, struggling to carry a bulky, portable record player, a selection of records, and a small handbasket of food to his door. Frankly, managing to balance it all while you knocked was a feat worthy of recognition, but Norton just looked bemused when his face peered out from a cracked opening.

“Can I come in?” you ask, when he looked you over and still didn’t say anything. “I brought some stuff.” You nod down to the record player in your arms. Norton’s expression sours, but he instinctively reaches to take the pile of heavy items from you. You manage to shove just the food basket into his hands and slip into his bedroom.

It’s messier than usual inside, but you expected as much. The few spare articles of clothes he owns are strewn about. Books, paper, and a lone candle are sprayed out from his desk as if he’d swiped it clear in a rage. The space was convenient for the record player, at least.

When you turn around to look him over, Norton has already swiped a bread roll from the basket and shoved most of it in his mouth. His hair is mussed and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, sans gloves, shoes, and suspenders. The bags under his eyes are worse.

“What’s all this for?” he asks, setting the basket down and rifling through the rest of its contents.

“For us!” You announce.

“Us, huh?” He repeats, in his thinking-voice.

“Yes. I’m going to teach you some dance moves.”

“I already know how to dance,” he says matter-of-factly. You can’t suppress the goofy smile that comes with visions of his rare-but-passionate flailing.

“By yourself,” you corrected. “I’ve never seen you dance with a partner.” Something like embarrassment or shame pushes his eyes away from yours for a flicker. You know he’s never really done anything with a partner, romantic or otherwise. No dinner, no dances, very few hurried trysts. He’d always lacked both the time and the funds, and had few people he ever liked well enough to lock hands with.

Evidently he has the same line of thought, and it makes him a bit gruff as he says, “why would I want to?”

“Because I want to,” you say. “With you, anyway.” He scoffs, but an oh-so faint blush dusts his unscarred cheek. He’s putting on a brave face for this conversation, but you see the turmoil of yesterday’s events lingering just beneath his waning patience. He’s tired, raw, disappointed in himself. And probably thinks you should be too. His attention keeps drifting further away, so carefully, very carefully, you step forward and touch one of his calloused hands. “Just for a little bit? I promise it’s easy.”

Norton meets your eyes again…and lets out a sigh that seems he’s been holding for years. His other hand comes up to your waist, holding you carefully.

“Alright, yeah. Just for a little bit.”

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Luca Balsa

At three in the morning, Luca had just managed to stumble his way through the manor and crawl his way into your bed.

His pained groans had woken you up from halfway down the hall, so you managed to open the door before he slammed right into it. He then hit your pillow like a rock, holding his head and sobbing that it was splitting open. Five hours of sleepless agony passed like a slug, filled with a long game of medical roulette where nothing ever helped twice. After the fifth hour, Luca finally passed out.

When he awoke again in the evening, his discomfort was gone. But, and perhaps more importantly, he looked lost.

“How are you feeling, Luca?” You ask. He jumps a bit at hearing his own name and stops scanning your bedroom in favor of curiously meeting your eyes.

“Oh! …Well, I think? Though, ah, I’m afraid I don’t quite know where I am,” he explains. Luckily, you’re practiced in hiding the hurt those words always induce. This is not your first experience with either his migraines or his amnesia, and it would surely not be your last.

“That’s alright,” you say. From the drawer in your desk, you produce a little notebook and pass it to him. Ever curious, he wastes no time in cracking it open. “You’re in my room. You had a really bad episode last night and came here instead of the infirmary. You had an accident several years ago that affected your memory. I’ve written about a lot of it in that notebook for you. Or, you keep some of your own that I can take you to. If you prefer.” He had never preferred that, though, always the trusting sort.

He spends several silent minutes flipping through the pages of the notebook, not bothering to hide his shifting expressions of shock, frustration, and intrigue. There’s a great deal of information in those pages, including the accident—or what you’ve heard of it anyway, the manor, his work, experiments you witness, and all the little ideas you hear him muttering to himself that he might forget otherwise.

“You keep this for me?” He finally asks, astonishment in his tone. “These seem impressively thorough.”

“I do, to make things a little easier for you,” you explain.

A grin splits his face and he turns to the notebook again. There’s no possible way he’s managing to take it all in with the speed he flies through it, but then he stops with purpose, marking a line with his finger and holding it with uncharacteristic force. The familiar determination in his eye is his attempt to bring a memory back through sheer willpower. And this time, it seems to work.

“Y…y—” he stutters. “Y/N! That’s it, you’re Y/N.” His shoulders relax as some great weight slides off them. Before you can react, he leaps to his feet and plants a kiss on your cheek that comes with a spark of static that feels like magic. “I love you too!”

“O-oh,” you squeak, still inches from his face and shocked at the speed he’s recovered. “Do you?”

“I do! Look, I wrote it here myself.” He points down to the page in the notebook. There, in your handwriting, is a reminder for him: ‘I love you, and will do anything to see your safe and happy.’ And in the small margins next to it, in his own quick scrawl, is ‘I love you too, never forget!’ You can’t begin to guess when he had added that note, but the glitter of mischief in his eye seems to indicate he knows with great fondness. “And it’s obvious to see why I would. It’s a remarkable gesture for you to keep this for me.”

Luca stands then, stretches, and tucks the notebook under his arm before offering you his gentlemanly hand, “Now! Let’s get some food, yeah? I’m starved. Oh! And let’s grab those other notebooks on the way, I have some catching up to do.”

“Alright,” you say. You feel lighter than you have in a while, reminiscing on how easily he accepts you back into his heart. With luck, he’ll remember everything else in a day or two. If he doesn’t, though, you’re at least not back to square one. “But in case you don’t remember, you don’t like sugar in your tea.”

Luca laughs boisterously, lays another electrifying kiss on your knuckles, and follows your lead out of the room.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #luca balsa x reader #norton campbell x reader #idv prospector #idv prisoner #turbulentscrawl #identity v

[kairos99]

Happy N7 Day everyone!

I wanted to do something for this day and had a Shakarian fanfic collecting dust for ages. I thought I could finish it for today, but unfortunately I only managed to get it halfway done. Still, it's been literal years since I've posted a fanfic on the internet and I wanna chuck this bit to the void godammit, so that's what I'm gonna do. I'll (hopefully) get the other part done and post the entire thing when it's finished.

EDIT: the finished fic's in this blog post

----------

Garrus can't concentrate. Calibrating the new Thannix cannon, an activity that should've taken him ten minutes, was taking him twice as long because he kept forgetting which tasks he'd already run and making extremely stupid mistakes. It's a damn miracle he doesn't activate the weapon by accident and blow a hole clean through the Normandy. When he's finally done, he sets a reminder on his omnitool to do it all over again after dinner because he's not sure he didn't make things worse by accident. 

The most frustrating part is that things should be better now. Which, in a way, they are. The biggest one being he no longer feels self-loathing tearing him up from the inside every second of the day; now it's once every hour or so. Sure, it's not perfect, but it's a hell of an improvement in comparison. 

Yet there he is, failing something as simple as calibrating a gun. He could do that at his lowest, but now it seems his wits have run away from him even for such an easy task. All because of Shepard. 

Back on Omega, when his mind had been shredded by grief and hanging onto his sanity by a thread, body chock full of stims and single-mindedly focused on survival, watching her appear on the scope and tear apart the mercs sent to kill him had been nothing short of a religious experience. He’d wondered if he’d already died and she’d been sent to pick him up. But there’d be no reason to kill the mercs if that was the case, his delirious mind had reasoned, so maybe she’d been sent to save him: an angel of destruction, a spectre of death raining down punishment upon the evils of this galaxy. 

And she’d called him Archangel. 

He’d eventually found the truth, once he was safe on the new Normandy. She’d indeed died, but was resuscitated by Cerberus and tasked to end the Collectors. Another myth brought back to life. Then he’d merely thought himself lucky and offered his assistance before she could even ask for it. Her relief when he'd done that had been palpable, even as she inquired after his injuries and suitability for duty. Yes, his face hurt something ugly, but he’d worked well under worse conditions and most of the damage would heal soon enough. 

Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do, he’d said. Judging by the twist in her mouth, she’d caught his hidden meaning. I have nowhere else to go. Will you be okay? She’d asked. As if being with her wasn’t the best reprieve he could think of after the hell he’d gone through. He might worry if he were working under anyone else, but with Shepard in charge, he could rest from the burden of leadership and trust his time and skills were being used for a good cause. It’s one of the many things he liked about her: despite their disagreements, he knew he could trust her to make the right calls. 

He’d been almost right. Going on missions kept him somewhat distracted from what’d happened in Omega and made them spend time together after two years of separation. He'd meant to use the opportunity to catch up, see if she’s changed from before her death, be there for her as a friend and confidante in these uncertain times. 

But the death of his squad had been fresh back then, an open wound undergoing an infection that planted its roots deep in his mind. When he wasn’t working, he thought about them. Constantly. He thought about their friends and families, who’d trusted him to keep them safe. He thought about how they trusted him to keep them safe, how brilliant and righteous and good they all were, how he’d pushed them to their limits for the sake of his own goals, how he’d refused them a vacation when they’d asked for it. 

Mostly, he thought about the only member who was still alive. The one who’d escaped. The one who’d betrayed them all. 

Every hour his mind came up with a new way of grieving them, a new way of blaming Sidonis, a new way of blaming himself. His dreams were no better. His team gazed at him disapprovingly while Sidonis taunted him and killed his squad over and over again, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him. 

He became distant, sequestering in the forward batteries and forcing Shepard to come to him in order to talk. He was present for his duties, but not much else. Two years apart, and he barely made the effort to reconnect. He hated himself for it, which did nothing but add to the cycle of pain and misery. 

It wasn't long till he told her what happened and his plan to correct matters. He knew she wouldn’t like it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Sidonis betrayed his trust and got his teammates killed. As far as he was concerned, Sidonis was a dead man. 

Then, the day came to exact his judgment on the man. Despite not agreeing with him, Shepard had been, as always, the perfect partner. She’d helped him find his target and did what she could to keep him from going on the deep end. Thinking about how he’d acted back then made hot shame creep up his neck. He’d just been so angry. 

And the one time she’d actively gone against his wishes, she’d done it for him. To give him the answers he truly needed. And by doing so, she’d inadvertently been the one to get his head out of his ass and make him see, with painful clarity, where he was headed to. 

The rifle’s getting warm in his hands. Sidonis’ head is in his scope, but so is Shepard’s, and she’s blocking his shot. She shouldn’t be, but she is, and she’s talking to Sidonis and ruining all of his carefully laid plans. He’s angry and sweating and ready to pull the trigger the second his target moves. 

So what if the mercs caught and threatened Sidonis? So what if he didn't want to do it? He still got his squad killed. When things got tough, he chose the easy way out like a coward and left them all to die. He was responsible, he was at fault, he'd been the one who deserved to die. 

Shepard says something, but he doesn't catch it over the blood rushing through his head. Sidonis starts to move to the right, and she follows to block his shot. It's not a perfect blockade however; if he can time it right, there's a good chance he'll land the shot without hurting her. Time slows down, he's a mere millisecond away from pulling the trigger until he stops. 

Wait.

His eyes widen as his actions catch up to him. The opportunity passes by; Sidonis leans over a railing and Shepard's head covers his completely. 

Did he just… 

Was he willing to risk Shepard’s life in order to fulfill his revenge? His only friend in the galaxy? The only person who’d stood by him in this crazy plan of his? Who’d saved him from his mistakes and listened to him during his lowest and cared despite it? The one he cared about so deeply he’d take ten more rockets to the face to protect? Was he willing to gamble her life to finish Sidonis’? 

Horror chokes his throat. He can do nothing but listen to the rest of the exchange, helpless and numb. 

Spirits, what had he become?

That's what did it in the end. It wasn't what made him decide not to kill Sidonis; that was a nest of pyjacks he didn't wish to kick again, at least not yet. But without it, he'd have never considered sparing him. He might've done the unthinkable and not just rid the galaxy of its best chance of survival against the Reapers, but also become well and truly friendless. Just thinking about how close he could’ve been to that makes him want to curl up in a ball and never talk to anyone ever again. 

He owes everything to Shepard. For her guidance, her friendship, for being there at his worst and not leaving him to face his demons on his own. Maybe one day he’ll figure out how to thank her for everything she’s done for him. 

But he’ll never tell her what happened during those few milliseconds. He’ll tell her anything, but not that. It’s his burden to bear, and hopefully, if he ever comes close to what he’d done again, the reminder of his actions will be enough to dissuade him from going down that same path. 

What’s important is that he finally feels anchored in the present moment. He no longer feels like his continued existence has been stolen from those who’re no longer living. Maybe he doesn’t need absolute justice to feel at peace with himself. Maybe it’s okay to feel at peace without absolute justice existing in the world. 

Maybe, what he needs is something else. 

With things finally looking up, he thought that maybe life was finally giving him a break for once. 

And then, Shepard had talked to him in the forward batteries and reminded him that as good as she was at being a source of comfort, she could be just as good at being a source of distraction.

----------

Next, Garrus reflects on his relationship with Shepard and realizes he caught feelings for her, which is a huge revelation for him because he didn't know he could catch feelings for someone not his species. He proceeds to have a full-on sexuality crisis not at all inspired by my own, nope no way, zero, mhm, nada. It gets resolved relatively quickly though, no worries. :)

Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate any encouragement you can send me. It'd go a long way in giving me the motivation to finish this fic.

#mass effect fanfic #mass effect #shakarian #garrus vakarian #n7 day

[rin-and-jade]

hi there, I've been very active in researching OSDD/DID for the last few years, and it came to be that around July of 2022 I realized how many applications and descriptions fit my experience. I/we don't experience amnesia, but do experience high degrees of trance-like dissociation and DPDR regularly. I/we identify as an OSDD system, and have distinctive parts/alters, who have their own body awareness, personalities, interacting with the world, and their own names, if exclusively identified.

The problem is that there is a huge amount of imposter syndrome, and self-invalidation, since we don't remember any significant trauma that would cause such a brain thing to happen. The only things we can remember are instances of emotional invalidation (and altercations ending in panic attacks from a young age) due to caregivers figures not realizing we're autistic, or how to help us. But that doesn't feel like it's enough. With all the searching we've done, we can't recover anything more specific as a recurring trauma. It hurts, and feels like we are invalid as a system, and that without something more significant there's no way we could have developed this way.

Is this enough, depending on how the brain dealt with distress? Should we keep searching for repressed trauma?

TLDR; Imposter syndrome due to lack of trauma rememberance, and what is remembered feels "too light".

Yikes.. imposter syndrome is already a pain in the ass to deal with. I'll try my best to explain multiple things to you and all ya got to do is digest all of these and do the tips i write below ok? (long post bare with me)

Following the order, let's start with the syndrome itself. This can make a distrust between you and the memories/severity you have known,, having the mindset of seeing 'worthiness' in a simple scale (of not bad to bad enough) won't cut it apparently. First you must understand that you're easy to miss the whole point which is acknowledging you have these unpleasant memories, and that is the only proof needed.

Secondly, self invalidation hits people right in the gut. Everytime. While you can't stop it from throwing punches, you can actually learn how to dodge. In this case where invalidation is trying to beat you up hard anytime,, it's time to implement the concept of worth and acceptance. By understanding that everyone has its own worth (and the same degree/amount) and even for you, that'll dodge an uppercut of "your struggles are nothing compared to others" which is much better than getting your jaw hit and halfway in the process of understanding the truth (because it lies all the time). Having acceptance that despite how 'small' or 'not really bad' traumatic experiences makes you dodge another jab punch,, invalidation hates this as it tries to put you down for good and you're going against it. Like boxing, it takes practice to create a counterattack and be fast in dodging so if you got hit once in a while, get up again, you're doing great,, beat that shit to pulp with consistency.

Thirdly, for repressed trauma/memories. I think of this sometimes, i, myself is also aware we still have many to uncover but that isn't always the important thing to dig for. How can one be sure that it has CDD? By knowing it has one already, in fact (the presenting symptoms and struggles around it, as well as history of when it happened). Finding traces is not easy and takes lot of time,, just as an investigation case where some deed had happened (cdd) and you're tasked to understand what process/action had led to this cause by looking for clues (repressed memories) and even if you, the detective have gained profound evidence (pieces of memories, etc). Because you weren't in the crime scene or whoever was involved in the deed,, not knowing the full chronology, series of events and reasons is perfectly alright. What im telling is that you don't need to see the full picture to determine something,, with enough clues that serves as concrete evidence, it had already been sufficient.

Lastly, i say you should not chase for memories as its counterintuitive. Like taming a cat, you can't catch it that way,, and so it works similarly with this. The more you heal on yourself and other parts, it'll uncover by itself and im sure of it. So you don't have to chase anymore because it's bound to come by itself, just like a cat.

I also made this simple graph on how your issues affect each other and its outcome in my own understanding,, by having awareness that this is creating a loop, you are bound to escape/break it easier. The writings are not dyslexic-friendly so im kinda sorry on that..

This hopefully covers up everything what you're questioning and the presented struggles as well, so, i now wish you luck and feel free to come back and tell me your progress.

- j

#did #actually did #did community #did system #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #plural #system stuff #sysblr #janswersask

[protect-daniel-james]

5, 8, 11!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

Probably the first to complete is the Unai/Villa Park (so far called Silent Night) after the Legia match. It's already halfway done, and it's a simple enough premise by now that it's quite easy to write.

It's football, it has always been football. He feels his toes curl, and then lets out a ragged breath, still holding onto the seat under him. The relief spreads across his body and he feels himself coming down from the heights of pleasure. The seat is a good, stable thing to focus on. He presses his palms into its edges as if he is desperately holding onto it for his dear life.

I definitely need to finally write the third, last chapter of Jamie in Liverpool. I can see the last scene clearly, but I kinda have to...write the rest? Ha ha, I hate when this happens in fics. But I don't have any proper snippets to show for it yet.

And - Txoria txori, part 5! God, I have the major plot of the chapter written since September and yet I can't seem to write the rest!

Unai walked over to him and grabbed the packet of cigarettes. “Can I get one as well?” Mikel asked, daring to look him in the eyes for a moment. Unai looked surprised, but obliged, pulling two cigarettes out of the packet at once and handing one over to Mikel. In a moment of stupid pride of knowing and feeling power over Unai, Mikel didn't reach out his hand - instead, he parted his lips, just enough for a cigarette to be slipped between them, and Unai did just that, although the stern look on his face froze for a moment, and there was a hint of panic. 

Because I am me, I am obviously also already planning the Unai-bringing-sacrifices-to-his-Villa story. I'm trying to think whether I have any other "urgent" stories to write - e. g. the one with Boehly/Potter has been bothering me for like nine months before I actually started writing it, lol. But I don't think I have anything as urgent now? I feel like eventually there will be more of JT/Eddie, Ange/Poch, Unai/football, Unai/Mikel, but I have already posted at least one fic for all of these, so it doesn't seem so urgent. I still feel like there should be a Frank/Mason fic about them both leaving Chelsea as well!

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

I think there's still a lot to do in the Lampardverse - I don't have the balls (yet) to write and post a fic about ALL the deranged lore. I think I'd need to find a story/moment that could include it to be presented to the wider public.

I need to figure out the level of gore I would be able to include in the vampire stories - I'm not into gore directly, I think the idea of teeth lingering just above the neck is much more erotic! - and I'd need to find some compromise for the "Unai bringing sacrifices to the Villa" story that I would be comfortable and confident writing.

I have a lot of deranged thoughts, but I feel like now that I already posted a couple of fics that include the cousincest openly, the Nasty Dads as well, and even the idea of a football manager making out with a seat of a stadium, humping the pitch, and rubbing himself against a trophy, I can write and post pretty much anything. We'll see how far can the boundaries be actually pushed this year!

11. Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes this year?

Hmm, definitely some dipping into the horror genre with all the vampire stuff. I'm not that much into tropes, so I'm not sure about that - I definitely want to explore and write about more kinks, or to elaborate more on some stuff that I have already touched upon (objectum!Unai, some watersports, Franko dreaming of what would have been if he was A Housewife for Jamie Jamie cousin Jamie...). I honestly don't even know what genre my fics are as they are, so I don't know how to change that. But I have always wanted to write a fic in some very specific style - like David Pearce's Red or Dead (which has lots of repetitions, lots of super short sentences, almost doesn't include speech, but is super readable and interesting). I think it's perfect for the Lampardverse! Lampardverse - especially the Most Fucked Up parts of it - definitely deserve a specific storytelling and an unreliable narrator.

#thank you!

[e-gray-blog]

Social CRM: Essential Features and Best Practices

Companies utilize social CRM to gain business advantages and improve direct communication with customers who only think about a purchase, are in the process of making one, and have done it already. As a result, such systems need to incorporate a number of features to help companies achieve their goals.

Customer profiling

Social CRMs should be able to compile information from various customer profiles across networks to provide a thorough overview of their activities, interests, and prior interactions with the business. Additionally helpful are customization features that let users organize and display customer data from a specific set of platforms.

Social listening

An important aspect of social CRM is its capacity to gather data by monitoring what people are saying about a business on social media in their stories, posts, and comments. In order to enhance customer service and public opinion of the brand, analyzing the results of social listening is helpful for enhancing marketing, selling, and support.

Multichannel integration

To achieve full coverage and efficient communication, a Social CRM should support all major channels used by the business’s target audience. Omnichannel integration also makes it easy to view the history of correspondence between the company’s employees and customers in a centralized manner.

Performance analytics

Without having accurate data available, it is nearly impossible to evaluate how Social CRM helps business (and whether it helps at all). In light of this, a Social CRM system must have robust analytics features. An ability to access and evaluate data on your customer demographics as well as their activity across channels is essential, just as the tools to monitor staff performance: average response time, the number of closed tickets daily, and so on.

Social CRM practices

Implementing a Social CRM system and setting up integrations with social media and messengers is halfway to success. The next one is to use it in the best possible way to achieve results.

Find new ways to interact with the audience and track how they react to different approaches to defining the best tonality and communication forms. For example, contests and surveys in social media can be great options for two-way communication with customers, while personalized promotions via messengers can be useful to return those clients who haven’t made any purchases recently.

Monitor mentions of your business. Expand social listening to more than simply @-mentions of the company’s account, including products and key employees’ names. By doing so, you will be less likely to miss any social media conversations in which you may engage and demonstrate your knowledge, customer service, and client-oriented attitude.

Provide real-time assistance to customers sharing their issues with any aspect of the company’s services on social media. With Social CRM, an assigned support agent gets plenty of insights on such cases, including customer details, purchase history, and preferences, and can provide prompt help, without asking numerous clarifying questions.

Create targeted campaigns and promotions based on the insights provided by Social CRM. Since the system gathers and arranges plenty of data across numerous communication channels, it all should be put to good use — create segments of customer audience based on several parameters and develop targeted campaigns or promotions, which can show higher efficiency compared to a more general approach.

Show your fans that you care. Client-created fan groups in social media are invaluable for growing brand exposure and trust among customers. Social CRM makes it easier to discover such pages and you are only left with a decision on how to strengthen the loyalty of these clients. For example, it can be sharing their activity in the brand's official channels, special offers for the most active members of communities, or inviting them to participate in the development of a new product or service.

#small business crm #social media #customer communication #marketing #digital #business #communication

[whatwh]

Respect is Earned Never Given

“It seems,” the leader yelled over the crowd, catching Aizawa's attention, “that there is a hero in our ranks.'' The entire gang seemed to scream in outrage, it was only a matter of time before they realized that only someone in their ranks could have told the heroes about the planned kidnapping, he only wished that it could have waited a little longer. The raid was scheduled in 3 days if things went well. The current assignment he was working on was to try and defuse a gang war from the inside, the Cutters (dumb name, Aizawa thought, its not even creative) were very disorganized but had a lot of people so there was a chance of them doing some serious damage to the comunity if they got too out of hand. He was normally able to not intervene in a Gang's choices up to a raid but this time the cutters were planning on kidnapping the young daughter of one of the opposing gang leaders. He should have stayed quiet. They were aware of the mole, the leader was distant at best he wouldn’t be doing an announcement unless they already found him. He slowly started moving to the door.

“I bet you all remember Sato” He booked it, running between the last few members of the crowd, all of which were slashing at him and grabbing. Luckily they were slow to draw their guns. By the time they did he was halfway out the door, using the warehouse's support beams to swing, He was tripped by some sort of string quirk, the high speed leaving gashes on his legs and blood spewing out a particularly deep cut on his cheek. There were people yelling for Sato all around him, trying to trick him into making a mistake, luckily he was too smart to give his real name so he didn’t have to worry about reflexes.

“Hey, just because the heroes have a big raid nearby tonight doesn’t mean I shouldn’t work! You want me to die of boredom?” “I’m not saying you shouldn’t work, just that you shouldn’t leave the Stacks.” “What else is there to do!” “I don't- wait, why not just look over the cameras? You got them set up for something like this!” “…” “That might work”

The Blood had gotten into his goggles when he tried to put pressure on his face wound. Well, It doesn't seem to be serious- He cut himself off, suddenly feeling the pain from his leg wounds. He realized that he must be bleeding everywhere and started to climb to a roof. If he moved vertically enough they might lose him, but he would have to slow down drastically. Good thing he had a head start.

“That's weird” the boy using the fancy looking pc setup muttered. The other boy wouldn’t have heard him, let alone understand him, if it wasn’t for his years of practice. The boy on the computer pulled up a better shot of what was a masculine figure running from a crowd. “Well follow them!” the second said, earning a glare from the first who had already started pulling up more cameras to do so.

Midnight was used to raids, her quirk made it so that she was perfect for taking out large groups all at once, she was more used to cases with more media attention and cameras on her every step of the way, being a daylight hero after all, but that doesn’t change her job. (Maybe she operates more like a twilight hero but that's not here nor there.) She wanted to help in whatever was the most practical way. If that meant that she needed to do a case every once in a while that was out of her comfort zone then so be it. So when Aizawa went fully underground for a case, she was the first to volunteer for the raid. She knew that there was no need to worry since he had done so many before, but hero work is dangerous. It was so easy to forget his experience though, hero work was always so dangerous. It was so easy to make a mistake that a person couldn’t come back from. But she's not going to think about that, he has done hero work for years, he's not going to make a rookie mistake. They have a few more days before the fight anyway. That's what they told her at least. She was not told that the foiled kidnapping would mean so much to the group. She didn’t know that they would only find out that they knew about the mole when the Cutters had an emergency meeting 3 days early. She was running through the crowd, putting as many people asleep as possible. She was looking Sho but it was quickly evident that the gang had split up to find him. She had know clue which path to follow, but she knew her friend well. That was the most concerning thing, really. He should have doubled back by now. She pulls up her comms as soon as the last person falls, looking for an update, only to find a black screen with white numbers - no. coordinates. She quickly uses a back up to send the information to the rest of the raid, and a small group is made to check it out. As they approach, an ambulance is called by the newest sidekick. Shota Aizawa has a very large amount of small cuts that were quickly losing blood. None of them would normally be bad enough to put him out of commission, but the collection as well as the deeper cuts in his legs must have overwhelmed his system. As she watches him get in the ambulance, allowing herself a moment before continuing the raid, the comms message comes to mind. This is going to be something, I just don't know if it's good or bad yet.

#vigilante midoriya #vigilante shinso #shinso hitoshi #izuku midoriya #Respect is Earned Never Given #Chapter 1 #Im iffy on this one #Its the beginning of a fic from forever ago

[clappkenny9]

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[bad-boy-halo-simp]

soft sex with dream (female reader|she/they pronouns too please:) just lots of praising and fluff you can ignore this but I'm just craving some love🤧

Yes yes yes absolutely❣️ :D

Anything for you @egirlmelody my beloved❣️

I was halfway asleep while writing this so I’m sorry if it’s not great😅

Dream x afab!reader

18+

Warnings: smut, vaginal penetration, smut

It was about 6 o’clock in the evening and you hadn’t seen your boyfriend very much since you two had woken up. Just the occasional bathroom break and the couple of times you checked on him throughout the day to see if he needed anything to eat or drink but other than that you really didn’t want to bother him in case he was filming or editing. At one point you had enough, getting desperate to feel Dream’s arms tight around you, so you decided to order a pizza for dinner because you knew it was his favorite before tiptoeing up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

Pressing your ear to the door, you heard a long sigh and a pop of some kind before knocking ever so softly, just loud enough to get his attention. “You can come in,” Dream said while mid-yawn. The door creaked on its hinges as you pushed it open just enough to peek in and see him stretching. “Hey, how are you feeling?” You asked as you approached your lover from behind before draping your arms over his shoulders. “I’ve missed you,” you pouted while giving him a quick squeeze.

“Oh, ha- I’m sorry about that. I guess I sorta lost track of time, ya know? I got a lot done today though,” you could hear the pride in his voice from the days accomplishments. Something you had noticed while dating him was how if he started a project he wouldn’t stop it until it was complete even if it wore him down more than it should. You could feel him reach up to touch your arms as he tossed his head back to rest on your shoulder, a long satisfied sigh escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Well, I’m very proud of you. You did great today Dream. I love you,” you whispered, holding your boyfriend securely to your chest. His eyes quickly shot open and he sat straight up before spinning around in his gamer chair to face you. “You mean it?” He asked, his eyes wide and bright with excitement. All it took was a nod and a quiet giggle from you to have him pull you onto his lap by your hips, straddling his waist and facing him.

“How did I get lucky enough to have a woman like you in my life?” He asked as he began to press kissed all over your neck and collarbone as his hands remained steadily on your hips. “I should be asking you the same thing,” your voice came out a bit more shaky and breathy than you meant for it to. His lips felt warm against your skin, something just so loving and comforting about the way he held you. His rough hands began making their way up and down your sides as he continued to attach your neck and jawline with kissed, each one getting sloppier and more intimate as he progressed.

At one point, your foggy mind beginning to clear, you had noticed how he started giving you feint hickeys all over your neck which you didn’t mind in the slightest. “Are you okay with this?” He panted out as his hands stilled while holding the end of your shirt, waiting for your consent before removing it. A quick nod was all it took from you before your shirt was removed from your body and bunched up on the floor in the blink of an eye. You could feel the arousal between your legs growing more intense with every one of his actions.

Unclipping your bra had become an easy task for him considering how many times he had done it in the past, seeing himself a borderline expert on bra removing. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled as he cupped your breasts in his hands, feeling and groping at the jiggly, warm flesh. “Thank you,” your response felt awkward and embarrassing to say out loud but he didn’t mind one bit, offering a sweet smile in return.

You stood up just for a second as you slipped your shorts and panties down your legs and onto the floor near where your shirt and discarded bra were sitting. While you were up and off his lap, Dream was quick with pulling his sweatpants and boxers halfway down his thighs, exposing his erect cock as a bead of pre-cum began to form on the slit of the tip. His hands returned to their place on your hips as you mounted him once again, your cunt aching to be stuffed by him.

He rocked his hips back and forth while smearing the pre-cum all over your opening, lubing you up and preparing you to take him inside. “I’m gonna put it in now. Is that alright?” He asked as his tip caught on your entrance causing him to let out a shaky gasp. “Yes, please yes,” the mild desperation in your voice was quickly picked up by him as he slowly and tentatively pushed the head into you, watching for any reaction from you. After a few seconds of letting you adjust, he began to push deeper inch by inch until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Mmm good girl, taking my dick so well. Fuck, you’re so god damn sexy,” his words echoed in your head as he bit his lip firmly to keep himself from thrusting up into you before you were ready. His arms wrapped around your waist before pulling you into a tight embrace, letting your face bury itself in his neck as he whispered how uh he loved you into your ear.

“You feel so good around me, baby. So tight and warm, shit-,” his words cut off as you felt his hips jerk, testing a small thrust and gauging your reaction to see if you could handle it yet. A gasp escaped your lips, followed directly by a harsh moan as the pleasure from the sudden thrust upwards crashed over you. “I’m gonna start moving now, alright baby?”

“Mhmm, yes. Fuck me Dream. I need you,” your voice was somewhat muffled into his neck but he understood you just fine. His thrusts started off slowly and much more sensual, thrusting up into your tight wetness at a gentle and steady pace while holding your body close to his own. “You always make me feel so fucking good y/n. Always squeezing my dick so tight in your pretty little cunt. God, you’re so perfect,” the sound of wet skin against itself started off as being barely audible quickly became louder in volume as he bounced you on his cock.

“Good girl angel, such a good girl for me. So beautiful,” his words faded into grunts and breathy moans as his hips sped up their pistoning motions. He didn’t want to admit it but he was already starting to get close to his own climax, but so were you. “I’m- oh god. I’m gonna- getting close,” your voice was wavering and your grasp on him got tighter as the coil in your lower stomach began to tighten at an alarmingly fast pace. “Yeah? Are you gonna c- ahh... cum for me like a good girl?” A nod was all you could manage as your eyes stayed screwed shut. Within a matter of seconds the coil snapped and the rapidly approaching orgasm ripped through your body violently, causing your body to arch and tremble in his tight grasp. A white hot sensation of ecstasy shook you to your core without you being able to prepare yourself. “Oh fuck baby, can- shit. Can I cum inside?” His hips didn’t stop thrusting upwards even for a second as he awaited your response. Tears had formed in your eyes and you felt dizzy as you came back down from your high.

“Please yes!! Cum inside me, baby!! I want to feel it inside!!” You yelled out as the sensations all began to be too much, your body feeling exhausted and completely drained. With a harsh grunt and a few shaky moans your boyfriend had finished inside of you, his cock keeping the hot white liquid plugged inside of you. You felt weak as you caressed his cheek and looked into his eyes, your legs aching like hell but you didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment.

“Fuck,” he panted. “I love you so fucking much,” he panted as he found a comfortable place for his face to rest between your breasts. The two of you rested in each other’s embrace for about 5 minutes to catch your breath. “I know right now isn’t the best time but there’s pizza downstairs,” you mumbled as he held you close. A husky chuckle escaped his lips as he looked up at you. “You keep proving my point about how perfect you are.”

#dreamwastaken smut #dream smut #dream x you #dreamwastaken x reader #mcyt #mcyt smut #dsmp smut #dsmp #dmsp x reader

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #bts writing #jimin series #jimin writing #bts dance au #jimin dance au

[inactiive]

I jus need an extremely rough dom ron fic w a giant mix of daddy kink, choking, clit & tit slapping, reader being a sucker for his moans & he’s extremely loud & vocal & they’re on top grinding over his bulge when he’s in his boxers & then rides his thigh while he both praises & degrades her & then he fucks her rly hard pls😔

attention — r.w.

ron weasley x reader

summary: purposefully trying to push ron’s buttons is never a good idea.

warnings: degrading, daddy kink, choking, clit/tit slapping, thigh reading, grinding, praise kink, sex, swearing, stomach bulge, pet names, breeding kink, minor cockwarming, message me if i should add anything else!

authors note: i don’t really have an excuse as to why i haven’t uploaded in so long. i’m going to be uploading mostly on weekends now because the weekdays have been so hectic for me. but enjoy xx <3

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You let out a dramatic sigh loud enough so your husband, Ron Weasley, heard it down the hallway. It had been almost a week since he had touched you and you couldn’t help but miss him. This past summer, Ron had been helping his twin brothers, Fred and George, with their joke shop. But ever since the season ended, he’s become more and more busy due to auror training. Of course you’re absolutely proud of him and you want him to follow his dreams, but can’t a woman miss her husband?

Before, you and Ron were having solid sex at least three times a week and at most everyday. He explained to you that he would have to work extra hard and he wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with you. You were bummed out about it, but he assured you that it was for your future family.

You told yourself you’d be able to last throughout his training, but it’s only been a week (not even) and you felt like you were going to explode. Everyday that Ron came home, he expressed that he was too tired to do anything after dinner. He felt bad about it, sometimes coming home to you already asleep, but he needed to do this.

So, as long as you would have to, you continued to sulk while Ron was writing to someone important in his office. After a few minutes, Ron still wouldn’t come out of the room, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stripped down to nothing but one of Ron’s jumpers and panties.

Before entering the office, you knocked on the door. Ron looked up from his desk and his eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Hi, darling. What’s up?”

You walked over and tried to crawl into his lap. “I just miss you, Ron.” You whined.

He gave you a sympathetic look. Ron obviously missed you too.

Ron kissed the top of your head and pulled your waist closer to his body. “I know, sweetheart, I just need to finish up this letter and i’ll be in bed with you soon, okay?”

You shook your head instantly. “I don’t want you to come to bed to sleep, Ron. I need you.”

Ron’s jaw dropped slightly and for a second he was speechless. It felt like it had been forever since you two experienced any sort of intimacy in bed.

“You need me, huh? Well, why don’t you be a good girl for me and wait patiently in our room?”

You were starting to grow irritated. “Ron, please I can’t take it anymore! Your letter will be here tomorrow, I promise.” You tried to look convincing as possible, but Ron saw right through your facade.

“Sweetheart, don’t be a brat. I’m sorry but i’ll be there soon.” He said sternly.

“But, Ro-”

“Now.”

You scoffed and stood up to push yourself onto his desk. At the same, you knocked over a glass of his coffee and you both watched it spread throughout the wooden desk. Oh fuck, you’re in for it now.

You looked back at Ron and you couldn’t tell if he was pissed or extremely pissed. “[y/n], look at what you did! That letter was important to me and I don’t understand why you have to always be a brat when you don’t get what you want.”

“Daddy, i’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to, I promise I'll be a good girl.” You begged.

He sighed in defeat. “I know you didn’t mean to, bunny, but look at what happened when you decided to disobey me, hm?” He grabbed onto your chin so you could look at him. “Now, I want you to go into our room and wait for me. Naked.”

You obliged his orders and rushed over to the room down the hallway. Quickly, you took off Ron’s jumper and your underwear. You sat on the bed nervously while picking at your fingers, not knowing what to expect from Ron. Once you heard his footsteps, your heart started racing. You were intoxicated with lust that traveled all the way down to your core.

When Ron arrived at the door, you could swear you almost started drooling. His red hair was messy while his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his body. You looked at him nervously and his expression was unreadable.

“On all fours. I’m not going to ask again.”

You closed your eyes knowing what would happen next. Although you did feel bad for ruining Ron’s papers, you loved riling him up.

All of a sudden, you felt a strong hand push your head into the mattress while your ass was up in the air. “Godric, you look so good like this, baby. But, I have to punish you first. You understand don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy I understand.” You softly replied.

“Don’t worry i’ve decided to go easy on you tonight since I haven’t been spending as much time with you. But, I want you to count up to ten. That’s how long it took for me to fix my letter that you ruined.”

He softly stroked your back and traced his hand to your ass. Ron squeezed it a few times before it quickly came into contact. You whimpered slightly before you started counting.

“O-one!”

Every time Ron’s hand left an increasingly red handprint on your left cheek, you couldn’t help but get turned on. You were in such a vulnerable position obeying his every word.

Once he finished, you were cradled into his arms. He softly pressed kisses to your body, especially the stinging pain on your behind. “You did so well for me, darling. But, i’m not done with you.”

He connected his lips with yours, but this time it was more aggressive. Just a second ago he was so gentle with you while whispering praises in your ear. Now, that has changed and it couldn’t excite you any more than it already had. You turned over to straddle his waist and he yanked your hair back. While pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck, you began to grind onto his hard on. He grounded loudly into your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re already so eager, sweetheart. What am I going to do with a little whore like you? Go on then, get off on my thigh.” 

With each leg on either side of his thigh, you started to rub your clit on his leg. You let out small whimpers and moans into Ron’s ear. His hand slowly made its way up to your throat and he squeezed it. As you felt the air getting trapped in your lungs, you became more and more wet. Connecting your hand with his, you wrapped his hand around your airway once again. 

“You like that, don’t you? My sweet little girl likes to be choked?” He smirked. 

You didn’t respond due to the lack of oxygen you were getting, but you replied by moving faster on his thigh. Ron knew you were getting close as he felt your movements become more frantic and he didn’t want you to finish yet. 

“Alright, bunny, get off.” 

You whined at the loss of contact and he gave you a hard glare. “What did I say about being a brat? Get on your back now.”

He threw you onto the bed and slapped your breast before sucking all around your body. You couldn’t describe how Ron made you feel. He was always a mix of being gentle and rough with you. 

“What do you want now, baby? Do you want Daddy to fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes, please Daddy! Just come inside of me, please. You don’t even need to prep me. I fingered myself to the thought of you this morning while you were gone.” You moaned loudly.

Ron’s eyes darkened. “You did? I didn’t know my innocent baby was a whore. Tell me whose cunt is this?”

“Y-yours, Daddy.” you whispered. 

Ron then slapped your clit which you whined at the contact. “I can’t fucking hear you.”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours, Daddy. Now, please fuck me.” You begged. Ron was always a sucker for your begging. 

“Okay sweetheart, open those legs for me.”

You did as you were told trying to ignore the fact that you were about to combust. Ron softly pepper kissed down onto your body and his hand fluttered over your sex. You couldn’t help but thrust your hips upwards into his hand. Ron wanted to comment about how needy you were being but if he was being honest, he was needy too. You could tell by the way he was not so subtly grinding onto the mattress. 

“C’mon Ron.” You tugged at his boxers and successfully removed them from his body. He watched your eyes become hooked to his cock and it made him hard even more. If that was even possible. Your hand came into contact with it and he hissed instantly. Ron grabbed your wrist stopping you from continuing. “Princess, I suggest we finish what you started.”

You nodded shyly at him and turned around to lay on your stomach, but he stopped you. “I want to see your face while I fuck you.” Blood rushed to your cheeks and you moved to lay on your back again. As much as he loved fucking you while your ass was in the air, he also loved seeing you come undone just as much. 

The head of his cock slipped through your folds and you sucked in a breath. “You okay?” Ron questioned.

“Yeah, I’m okay, love.” you paused. “Just don’t be gentle with me tonight, please.”

And with that, Ron withdrew his hips and thrusted into you, hard. You whimpered loudly only to earn a hand around your throat. You tried to remain eye contact with him but every time you tried your eyes seemed to roll into the back of your head. He felt your muscles tightening around his cock and he truly couldn’t take it anymore.

Gradually, his hips gained speed, and every thrust hit that spot that made you fall in love with Ron Weasley even more. 

“Don’t stop, please. Don’t stop.” You begged.

Your comment made Ron’s hand tighten on your throat. “Since when did you get my permission to be so greedy? Are you the only one that’s allowed to come?”

“No! Want you to come too, Daddy.” 

“God that’s right.” Ron groaned and picked up his speed. Looking down, he could see his cock sliding in and out of you. He seemed so big compared to you and it felt like he could break you at any moment. A bulge on your stomach became increasingly prominent as he thrusted into you, each one becoming more sloppy. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “You look so good under me, sweetheart. Let me come inside of you.”

“Yes, please, I want you to come inside of me.” You were beginning to clench around him. “I want you to get me pregnant with your baby.”

“Beg for it. Only good girls get to cum.”

Fuck, seriously? All you could hear is slapping skin and the sounds of Ron’s cock slipping inside of you. “Fuck. Please, Ron. Just let me cum with you. I want you-” You swallowed. “I want you to fill me up.”

After ten more seconds of Ron’s fingers digging into your hips while he fucked your brains out, his hips snapped forward. Simultaneously, you felt yourself come undone and fall over the edge. You let out a high pitched moan while Ron groaned loudly into your ear. 

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re so beautiful when you cum, darling.”

He continued to fuck you slowly and eventually pulled out, but you pulled him back towards you. 

“Stay with me. Just for a few minutes.” you murmured.

“You know if I say yes I’ll end up falling asleep.”

“I don’t care. I just want to hold you.”

Ron relaxed on top of you, not believing that you were his. 

You were always going to be his girl. 

—

hi! if you requested to be added to my taglist just message me. i haven’t posted in a while so i’ve forgotten who asked me. :)

#ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley smut #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader smut #ron weasley fluff #golden trio era #smut

[akakeiiji]

HI!~ (THIS IS MY FIRST TINE REQUESTING AND IM REALLY EXCITED) Can I request a scenario where their smol s/o (I'm like 155 or 5'1 for reference) gets easily lost? Like they just wonder off on their own cause they think that he's still with them and she tends to leave her phone with him so calling to find her is out of the question??? (Me honestly IM SORRY FRIENDS AND FAMILY) She likes a lot of things so sometimes its hard to find her cause they never know where she is? Ushi, Tsuki and Bokuto-🌼

-`,✎ Ushijima, Tsukishima and Bokuto losing their short S/O in a crowd

THIS REQUEST IS JUST TOO ADORABLE AND IT HITS SO CLOSE TO HOME!! We’re the same height nonnie 🤧🤧✋ Short gang, where ya’ll at? 

Also I apparently don’t know how to read because I thought you requested for headcanons at first despite you clearly asking for scenarios so I decided to keep the hcs since I was already halfway done with them~ hope you don’t mind, nonnie! 

The man is literally built like the empire state building, he just towers over everyone, it’s insane

And then there you are behind him, all tiny and stuff, it’s so friggin adorable

He doesn’t really notice your height difference at all

Whenever people point it out, he just cocks his head with his eyebrows furrowed and is like “Yeah, I’m tall?? And they’re short?? Why are you reacting like that?”

He’s genuinely confused and doesn’t see why it’s a big deal at all

When he looks at you he doesn’t really pick up on itty bitty details like your height and stature; he just sees you for the whole you and sees you simply as this perfect deity that he loves

But he does appreciate the perks that come with it such as the way you feel when he hugs you after a match or the way you look up at him so adorably when you’re trying to get a kiss

He also didn’t realize the cons that came with having a tiny s/o

There are many but we’re focusing on the fact that it’s so easy to lose you in a crowd

He’ll literally look away for 0.5 seconds and when he looks back at you, you’re suddenly gone

He probably won’t notice for a bit but after a while, he’ll wonder why you aren’t holding onto his sleeve or hand anymore

Whenever this happens he usually goes about it in two ways; he’d either stay still where he is and let you find him (which isn’t hard, he sticks out like a sore thumb) or if enough time passes, he’ll retrace his steps and look for you himself

He’ll have a tiny little frown on his face since he gets so worried about you, like you’re so tiny what if you get trampled??

When he does find you though, the wide smile on your face when you catch sight of him honestly makes the search worth it

can you tell that I miss ushi so friggin much

The streets in downtown Tokyo are always so packed at this time of day. There were hundreds of people rushing to and from work, tourists taking in the sights, and busy shoppers such as yourself and Ushijima; you two had just finished shopping together and were heading to your favorite restaurant in the area as you always do to end your date night.

Your hand remained tightly wrapped around the hem of your boyfriend’s coat as you two made your way down the busy streets, struggling to not get pulled away as people continued to mercilessly push past you. You would have much rather held Ushijima’s hand but he insisted on carrying all your shopping bags and was rather preoccupied with them at that moment.

He marched on, oblivious to your struggles behind him. It was during times like this when you hated how short your legs were, you were practically jogging to keep up with your boyfriend who, to him, was only going at a leisurely pace.

Before you knew it, your hand had loosened and you suddenly lost hold of his coat. You looked up, hoping to find him just a few feet away, but he had disappeared into the sea of people all around you.

Ushijima hadn’t noticed anything at first, he was too focused on where he was going to realize that the little tugs on the hem of his coat throughout the journey were suddenly gone. He looked down at both his hands and placed the shopping bags on one of them to the other so that he could use it to hold your own.

He held out his free hand behind him, calling out your name, and motioned for you to grab it. A few seconds went by of him gesturing like this only to be met with no response.

He looked back, eyebrows furrowed, only to find no sign of you.

Ushijima immediately stops in his tracks, eyes widening ever so slightly as he did a little 360 turn in his spot, raking over the crowds rushing past him in hopes he’d find your familiar head of hair bouncing about.

He stood motionless where he was, forcing people to walk around him—most wanted to tell him off for standing in the middle of the street but no one had the balls to.

A few minutes went by and he began walking down the direction he came from looking everywhere for you. Worry began to bubble in him when you were still nowhere to be found but suddenly he saw a figure waving at him from afar.

You were standing on top of those small cement blocks on the bottom street lights, waving your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around the lamp towards your boyfriend, grinning ear to ear when you met eyes with him.

Ushijima smiled in relief, shoulders relaxing as he made his way over to you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m never letting go of your hand next time.” He said, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before interlocking your fingers together. You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not.”

We all already know this: Kei is fucking ruthless

It doesn’t matter that you’re dating. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally his favorite person in the world tho he’ll never admit this to you you will not be free from his savageness

No one is more hyper-aware of your height difference than he is and no one teases you more than him

Tsukishima is literally the type to steal your things and hold them over your head or he’ll purposefully stand at full height whenever you want to kiss him just so that he can watch you struggle

“Oh, babe, I didn’t see you from down there.”

Is the type to purposefully put things you use all the time up on the top shelves in cupboards and cabinets

He says that he does this to annoy but really he does this so that you can call him to help you since he banned you from climbing the counters 🤧✋

He really loves your height though as much as he likes to tease you for it

He loves how easy it is to wrap his arms around you and how you burrow into his chest whenever you hug

His favorite thing about your height is probably the fact that it’s so comfortable being the big spoon with you since you fit so snuggly against him 🥺

again he’ll never tell you this, my man is tight-lipped

However he can get very protective over you, it’s like he developed this idea in this head that small = fragile

So whenever he loses track of you in a crowd (which happens a lot, it's honestly embarrassing) he immediately drops everything and searches for you

He’ll have this permanent pout on his face as he retraces his steps, going back to wherever you two were and keeping an eye out for either you or places that would catch your eye

Once he finally catches you, he’d sigh in relief and immediately put up his “i’m annoyed right now, give me attention” face and head over to you, knocking your head with his knuckles lightly

He’d lecture you a bit about staying close to him and he’d spend the rest of your time out with his eye on you and with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

The mall was always so crowded during the weekend especially now that Christmas was just around the corner. Tsukishima told you that you two should visit the mall later during the week but you were just so excited to see this new movie, he simply couldn’t say no; he cursed himself for being so tightly wrapped around your finger.

The building was already pretty full when you two entered the cinema but when you two emerged, it was as if the number of people there seemed to double in just a span of a few hours.

As you two made your way through the tight-knit crowds of people, the frown on Tsukishima’s face never left as people kept pushing and rushing past him. He called out your name behind him and said, “See, I told you we should have come after the weekend, it’s like half the city is here right now.”

He waited for your usual giggle or scoff, maybe a light smack on his arm as you tell him to brighten up but there wasn’t any of that.

“(Y/N)? Did you hear me? I—(Y/N?),” He turned around, worried that you may have been upset at him but instead was surprised to find that you weren’t trailing along behind him like he expected you to be.

He turned around fully, hands coming out of his pocket as he raked his eyes over the crowds of people around him. It would be nearly impossible to find you here, there were probably hundreds of people in the mall now.

Tsukishima groaned slightly as he ran a hand through his locks, his other hand going into his pant pocket to ring your phone only to realize that it was with him as well, right next to his. This elicited a second groan from the blonde.

Knowing you, you probably got distracted by something and wandered away from him.

He retraced his steps, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. He had no idea when you wandered away from him so you could have been anywhere. He stood at full height, towering over the majority of the crowd, and scanned the entirety of the floor and the shops on it.

He entered a few stores he knew you’d most likely visit; the bookstore, the pet store, and a shop that was having a 50% sale but he found no traces of you.

Tsukishima was about to give up and head to the information desk and ask them to announce something on the loudspeaker to grab your attention—probably something along the lines of “To the small gremlin wandering around floor three right now, please meet Tsukishima Kei at the main exit.”—when he spotted a bright store on the other side of the floor.

You were there. He just knew it.

He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the anime store and low and behold, there you were, crouching as you stared at the shelves of anime merchandise, a wide ear to ear grin on your face.

Tsukishima sighed and lightly smacked you, tearing you away from your thoughts and making you look up at him in shock.

“You are such an idiot, (Y/N).” You only laughed in response and wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face onto his chest. “Aww, Kei! Were you worried about me?”

“Of course, I was. How do you expect me to feel?” He said with another roll of his eyes. He brought his hand up and placed it on top of your head. “I was worried someone thought you were a child and kidnapped you.”

You let out an indignant gasp and started to smack him but he only laughed and took your hand in his, dragging you out of the store behind him ignoring your protests.

Nobody in the whole entire world thinks you’re more adorable than Bokuto

He adores the fact that you’re so tiny, he likes you call you his pocket-sized s/o  

He never really teases you, instead he always coos and coddles you

He especially loves lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around, he always does this after winning a game and it always leaves you feeling dizzy

But you never complain bc who would complain about being hugged by Kou like that 🤧✋

However, as much as Bokuto loves how smol you are, he always kinda forgets that you’re short??

It’s because he’s always surrounded by tall people; his friends, the volleyball team, etc.

So he always forgets to adjust when he’s with you

And you know how some people just naturally walk really really fast, like they can’t help it, it’s just how they walk normally??

Yeah, that’s Bokuto

And this paired with the fact that he is literally 6’1 means he practically travels at light speed

Your tiny legs can barely keep up with your excitable boyfriend and you’re always practically jogging to keep up with him so if you take your eyes off of him for even just a few seconds he’ll probably run off somewhere and disappear 😔✋

This occurs so often when you two are out that you’re never shocked whenever it happens

It takes a few minutes before Bokuto realizes that he’s suddenly alone in a crowd and that you aren’t beside him like he thought you would be

AND IM SORRY BUT THE FIRST THING HE’LL DO IS JUST YELL OUT YOUR NAME REPEATEDLY AT FULL VOLUME WITH NO SHAME WHATSOEVER

“(Y/N)!! WHERE ARE YOU??”

Everyone around him would give him looks but he wouldn’t care, he just needs to find you fast or he’ll start panicking tho he lowkey already is

Some people would think that he’s looking for his kid but nah, he’s just looking for his smol s/o who would show up beside him after a while with a disgruntled look on their face

It never takes long for you two to reunite when you get separated, you just have to wait for the distinctive voice of your boyfriend yelling for you somewhere

When you two find each other, the first thing he’ll do is pull you into a tight hug, usually lifting you up from the ground as he presses a few kisses on your cheeks in relief

He’ll remember to walk slowly for the rest of the time you’re out, usually with his arm over your shoulder or with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

It made absolutely no sense to you that Bokuto literally grew up in the city yet has never visited the amusement park in the area before. You’ve visited the park countless times before but for your boyfriend, it was a first.

Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement ever since you proposed the idea of visiting the amusement park together and it only got more intense as the day of your visit grew closer and closer.

You somewhat regretted not pushing your date to a later day in the week so that it didn’t fall on the weekend since the park was so packed but that feeling quickly dissipated when you glanced at your beaming boyfriend beside you.

What you did regret however was the fact that you didn’t wear more comfortable shoes, ones that were more fitting for exercise rather than leisurely walks since you were practically running around the park just to keep up with Bokuto.

His hand remained tightly clasped on your own as he sprinted all around the park, looking at all the rides, food stands, and gift shops around the place. He wasn’t really running, he was simply walking at a quick pace but this coupled with his long legs made it so difficult to match his pace with your significantly shorter ones.

You two had just gotten off a rather intense roller coaster and you felt your head spin from how dizzy it made you, you halted in your steps as Bokuto was about to begin running towards another ride making Bokuto stop as well as he was pulled back by your hand which was still holding onto his.

“Koutarou, let me rest for a bit,” You said as you sat on a bench in the shade, Bokuto immediately nodded and took a seat beside you, he handed you a bottle of water from his bag. “Sure babe, here drink this.”

After a few minutes of talking and resting under the shade, you stood up, reinvigorated, and filled with more energy. “Okay, let’s go, I’m feeling much better now,”

Bokuto immediately jumped onto his feet and beamed at you, more than ready for another round of rollercoasters and thrilling rides. He held out his hand for you to take and you two headed farther into the park.

“Let’s go on the Viking ride next—wait, hold on, let me fix this.” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and began adjusting the overpriced headband on your head; Bokuto insisted on buying matching ones at the gift shop despite their ridiculous price (“Look, it’s just so adorable!”)

When you looked up, ready to grab ahold of his hand again, Bokuto was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

You whipped your head all around you but you couldn’t see the familiar head of hair of your boyfriend in the horde of people around you. You stood on your tiptoes, craning your head to get a better view but that didn’t do anything to help. You feel back on your feet and huffed; curse you and your short stature.

You walked down the direction you two were originally headed at, raking your eyes over the crowds of people you walked past when you suddenly heard a familiar voice yelling out your name from a distance. You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and began to jog towards it.

Bokuto was standing on his tiptoes, his hands cupping his mouth as he called out for you over and over again, oblivious to the looks of shock from the people around him.

As he was about to scream out your name for the dozenth time, you suddenly pushed your way through the people around him and grabbed ahold of his arm, an exasperated yet also relieved look on your face.

Bokuto’s face immediately lit up, the small frown on his lips turning into a large smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you into his chest and lifted you off the ground as he usually does when he hugs you.

You giggled and flailed around as he did this, when he placed you back safely on the ground, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sorry for leaving you behind,” Bokuto said as he laced his fingers onto your own, “It won’t happen again,”

You scoffed playfully and let yourself be dragged along by him, “That’s what you said last time, Kou.”

#Haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima headcanons #ushijima scenarios #ushijima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto headcanons #bokuto scenarios #bokuto #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu oneshots #hq headcanons

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part IIII) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | 

Summary: Reader ponders the decision they made after meeting Zemo in Riga. Series now complete!

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Kissing, marijuana & alcohol abuse, heavy angst & depression, small reference to suicide, implied casual sex, yearning

A/N (also check out A/N at end when finished reading): This is it, everyone! I was going to end this completely differently originally, but after some thinking --  and some light peer pressure from ya’ll, I did something a little different. I did fight with this part the most out of all of them, so I hope it’s still good. Please enjoy. And thank you for all the love on this series, it’s been so fun to write! Also I was listening to this song while writing this.

---

The incessant buzz of her alarm clock jolted her out of her dreamless sleep. Fumbling in the dark, she slapped the top of it, hitting the snooze button and looking at the interface with bleary eyes. 

4:00 A.M. It stared, indifferent, back at her tired face. 

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and lamenting, bargaining, half expecting the clock to turn back time when she opened her eyes again. Unfortunately, it did not. With a huff, she threw back the covers and stretched, disturbing the orange cat that slept in the empty spot next to her where her husband used to lay. 

Snorting, the cat lifted its head to look at her as she climbed out of bed before curling back up in a ball where her feet had been. 

“Don’t mind me, just getting ready for work so I can feed us,” she said, grumpily, then in a moment of repentance, affectionately scratching her behind the ears. 

She had always been a night owl, so she didn’t think it would be possible to ever get used to waking this early. No human was meant to function at this time. It was the one part of the job she hated most. The rest of it was manageable, though it was still work. 

Setting about her morning routine, she showered, made coffee, and donned her uniform. Eating a day-old bagel and nursing her coffee on her tiny balcony, she looked out over the darkened horizon. It was far too early to even enjoy a sunrise. 

There was a saying, time heals all wounds. After her husband died, she’d heard it a lot. It was a saying she had come to find true. But it’d been well over a year since she’d left Helmut, alone in that swanky hotel room, and it still hurt like it was yesterday. 

“I understand,” he’d murmured, and she felt the ghost of his kiss on her forehead, arms around her waist, even now. She shivered, not from the chill of the morning air.

She’d left her old life behind, all of it. Sam and Bucky, too, about a month after their time in Riga. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after what she’d done.

But, she was proud of what they’d accomplished. They’d defeated the Flag Smashers. Bucky seemed happier, more at peace. Sam had accepted his role as the new Captain America. John Walker seemed to have faded into irrelevancy. All the loose ends had been tied up in a pretty little bow.

Except for hers.

Which is why she moved, sold all the stuff in her tiny NYC apartment, and packed her car full with what she couldn’t bear to part with, some photos and momentos from a different lifetime. Her car didn’t stop until she hit the Atlantic Ocean, on an island just south of Charleston. All but undiscovered by tourists, the residents in the sleepy beach town kept to themselves, and she could go about her life in peace, undisturbed. 

She couldn’t just run away from her problems, that was why she’d left Zemo. It seemed counterintuitive, but in her mind, it made sense. The problems would catch up to her, like they always had. The dissatisfaction she had with her life, with herself, was always going to return. And she knew she had to be alone to deal to face it head on. Like a wounded animal, crawling into the woods, there were only two ways things could end here; either she’d heal and come out stronger, or eventually she’d die. And so far, the healing part wasn’t going great. 

Each day was a matter of convincing herself that she’d made the right choice. Especially now, as her eyes burned, fighting to stay open against the inviting embrace of sleep. 

Despite it being dark outside, the bakery was bustling already when she walked in the service entrance. It smelled amazing, as always. Sweet and warm, a cacophony of aromas, baking bread, fresh coffee, sugar.

She set about the usual preparations to open up, packaging orders for the regulars, sweeping the floor, wiping down countertops. Once the place was open, she didn’t have to work the register, as she prepared batches of dough in the back for proofing, to be baked the next day. 

Before, she’d been a terrible cook, but she’d grown comfortable in the kitchen after learning to bake. There was something satisfying about working with her hands, at this point she’d memorized all the recipes and the work became second nature to her. Now, she always had fresh bread and pastries in her kitchen, although they were the slightly disformed, ones the shop owners deemed too ugly for the glass display cases. Daylight was cherished, even if she barely saw it inside the shop. Because while she was awake, busy with work, her thoughts remained pleasant.

At night it was the hardest. Things got quiet, lonely. When she got home, she poured herself a drink. Cheap whiskey, the kind that came in a plastic bottle and burned on it’s way down. She had never been much of a drinker before, she was now. Her thoughts were more manageable after a drink. Especially because she was usually thinking of Helmut. 

It was often that she wondered what he may be doing, and those thoughts usually ended with the image of him lying in the sun, poolside, on some island in the Pacific Ocean, drinking expensive champagne with a supermodel. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought to her, and yet she was plagued by some variation of it every night. 

Sometimes, she’d humor herself, and imagine what they might be doing had she decided to stay with him. Unfortunately, thinking of that was more upsetting. She wanted it, selfishly, though she wasn’t willing to admit it.

When she was younger, it had been so easy to block out the pain, to just press forward, no matter what. Much to her dismay, it didn’t get easier as she got older. Years of watching those she loved in pain, years of being in pain had taken a toll on her resilience. She wasn’t the strong woman she once was, she was weak.

That night, one drink had turned into two, into three. Wallowing in her own self-pity had become second-nature, she felt like Hamlet, lamenting her circumstances, a constant turmoil monologuing in her brain. But this night felt particularly worse, for some reason. 

For the record, she had been doing better. But she was all-too-familiar with how grief worked, pulling her back down the dark side of the mountain, where she was forced to fight her demons over and over again. At some point, they were going to win.

It was a funny thing. Despite the loss of her husband, who she had loved dearly, his death had been easier to accept. Final. She couldn’t bring him back. Helmut on the other hand, was still out there, an open wound that could never fully heal.

Before she knew it, she was four drinks in, at her bedside table, fumbling through the bottom drawer, until she found what she was looking for.

Back on her couch, she stared at the card in her hand, the hastily written phone number on it, an international line. Helmut had given it to her, the day she left, stuck it in her purse while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t discover it until she had returned home.

It had been months since she last did this, pulled the card out of its hidden place in her drawer, placed it on the coffee table in front of her next to her phone, and considered dialing it. It had been a frequent occurrence when she first moved here, when she couldn’t find a job and spent most of her mornings either hungover, or stumbling home from rendezvous with men whose names she wouldn’t remember, and she wouldn’t care to, because there was only one man she really wanted. She could only hope he’d be as close as one call away. But she never called. 

I mean really, he’d probably moved on by this point. If she was going to call, she should have done it months ago, when there was more of a chance that he’d give a fuck. 

She considered this a setback. But she’d made her way halfway through the cheap bottle of whiskey, it was the drunkest she’d been in ages and she was curious. She didn’t know whose number it was, who’d be on the other end of the line, and never knew why Helmut would want her to have it to begin with.  

At this point, she wasn’t capable of good decision making. In general, it hadn’t always been her strong suit. So why did doing the right thing matter now? It didn’t, she decided. 

Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, she ensured she wouldn’t remember what happened next, at least not clearly. 

The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” she didn’t recognize the sound of the man on the other end of the line immediately, so she didn’t answer. All she had wanted to do was maybe hear Helmut’s voice, he didn’t even need to know it was her that was calling. 

“Hello?” the man repeated, and she realized it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. The grandfatherly, comforting tone wasn’t her former lover, but someone close to him. And she supposed that wasn’t terrible.

“Is this Oeznik?” she asked. 

“It is,” he said after some hesitation. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

Truthfully, she was shocked she’d allowed herself to go this far. This was a bad idea. If she stopped now she could get off without doing any real damage. But just as she was about to hang up, she heard her name, muffled, on the other end of the line. 

“H-How do you know it’s me?” She raised the phone back to her ear. 

“I thought you sounded familiar,” Oeznik chuckled, low and soft. “Helmut told me you might call.”

“He did?” she squeaked. “Yes, although it was awhile ago. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I uh….I….well….” she managed. “I guess I just….I guess I wanted to see how he was doing.”  Her words flowed together like the liquor she was drinking, she knew she sounded drunk.

“Good, since we last spoke,” he said. “I don’t hear from him much these days...maybe every couple months. As you might imagine, he’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being.”

She nodded. Perhaps Zemo was as lonely as she was, hidden away in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though she had to imagine it looked much nicer than her current place, and maybe he had better company than a portly orange cat that begrudgingly liked him. “I understand.”

“How have you been?” he asked.

It sounded stupid, but she realized it was the first time someone had asked her that. Sincerely. Checked up on her. Even if she was the one who had dialed the number in the first place.

“I’m good,” her voice cracked. “Just keeping busy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Helmut always had such nice things to say about you.”

“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Of course, would you like me to let him know you called?” 

“No, no...I wouldn’t want to bother him,” she choked on her words, something catching in her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”

“I’m okay, I just….” she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, lowering her voice, since she didn’t think her normal register would come out as anything other than a whine. “I think I made a horrible mistake.”

“What’s the matter? What did you do?”

She shook her head, shaking the tears loose and now they were lining her lashes, threatening to spill over. However, she managed to make the next words she spoke come out clearly. “Nothing, I just...it’s really stupid, I really shouldn’t have called.”

He sighed on the other end of the line, and she felt like, despite her attempt at staying calm, he could still see that she wasn’t somehow. “It seemed Helmut was awfully sweet on you,” Oeznik’s words next came hesitantly, calculated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me if you ever called, to help you with whatever you might need, no matter the ask.”

Oh God, what had she done? A sob left her, one she couldn’t control, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more. Her tears were flowing freely now, tracking down her cheeks and along her chin. She wiped at them clumsily, clearing her throat. 

“That’s very kind of him, but you can’t help me. I’m so sorry to bother you, please just forget I even called,” she forced a smile on her face so that hopefully he could hear it. “Goodbye.”

She hung up, horrified, and within seconds had deleted the call log from her phone. She’d been thoughtful enough not to memorize the number, and the lighter she used whenever she smoked sat in front of her. Without a second though, she burned the card, watching the paper blacken and disintegrate, until it was all but a pile of soot on her Wal-Mart coffee table. It was a fair punishment, and ensured she’d never get the chance to embarrass herself like that again. 

And then she cried, sobbed into a pillow next to her, until her tears ran dry and she wore herself out, falling asleep on the couch alone. When she’d wake the next morning, the only evidence of her actions would be a throbbing headache and a dead phone. 

She wouldn’t remember the call.

----

Life went on, as it always did. It had been about a month, and since that night she grew more indifferent, remembered how to ignore heartbreak. For now, she was stuck in her purgatory, waking up before the sun and falling asleep before it set, smoking joints, drinking cheap liquor, and going on the occasional date with people who she didn’t really like, tourists who would leave after a week and wanted temporary company. 

Despite everything, she partly believed things were getting better. Maybe they weren’t, but the possibility that someday they would seemed feasible. And that was enough, for now. 

On her days off, she’d walk to the beach and lay on a blanket, reading a book until the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the sky in hues of pinks and purples. She found a record player at an antique store and began collecting vinyls, listening to obscure artists whose albums she found in the $1 bin. It wasn’t so bad. Life wasn’t so bad. 

She took a shower after work. Tomorrow was her off day, and she wasn’t sure what she had planned besides maybe watching a movie and getting stoned. Maybe she’d try going to the beach. The weather was getting warmer, and she could even go swimming if the water wasn’t too cold. 

Exhausted from her day of work, she laid down in her bed, still in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel around her head. The sun was setting outside, the windchimes she’d hung outside slowly clanging together, birds singing in the warm spring air. Her cat hopped on the bed, offered an affectionate trill and curled up at her side, purring, in a rare display of affection. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. And for the first time in over a year, she felt content. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, committed it to memory, so she could recall it the next time she was drunk-crying in front of her TV. 

She fell asleep slowly, so slowly that when she woke, startled by something in her kitchen clattering to the floor, it felt like she hadn’t even been sleeping at all. The clock next to her red 11:31 p.m. and it was pitch dark outside, the cool breeze from before had grown stronger and her bedroom curtains were billowing, wind whistling loudly through the apartment. Her cat had left her side, and she frowned, shivering in the sudden cold.

Pulling the towel off her head, she made her way over to the window with the intention to close it, sleepily, lazily, until she heard something else. A creak in the floorboard. A heavy footstep in her kitchen. That wasn’t just her cat. 

Some kind of muscle memory was ignited then, an ancient instinct that called to her from a different lifetime. Darting across the room, the gun she kept was in her hand, stealthily pulled from its hiding spot beneath her mattress. Truth be told, she never thought she would’ve needed it. Anyone looking for her would be smart enough to kill her in her sleep, not be so foolish as to wake her first with their heavy footsteps. 

A dark silhouette stalked through her kitchen, moving slowly. It was a man, she assumed, based on his broader figure, and lack of coordination. In her experience, women were often stealthier without trying. He took another step, the floor creaking below him, shuffling on bargain linoleum. 

Staying low, she crept forward, ducking stealthily behind furniture, avoiding the spots on the floor she knew made noise. It didn’t appear the intruder had a weapon, in fact, it seemed he was bumbling about, searching for something. A burglar, and a bad one at that. An island full of vacation homes owned by rich doctors and they thought they’d find valuables in her shitty apartment?

It wasn’t until she was standing directly behind him, gun aimed at his head, that she finally spoke up. 

“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said flatly. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d be in your best interest to leave empty-handed.”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the intruder froze, arms slowly raising in defeat, empty-handed, as he turned around to face her. In the dingy room, she couldn’t make out any of his features, could only see that he was clad in all black.

“Unfortunately, liebling, that wasn’t my intention.” 

She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, though the endearment he’d used was enough to clue her in. Hitting the lightswitch with her free hand, she was face to face with the man she’d spent the past year trying to purge from her memory, Helmut Zemo. 

Her gut twisted, her mind raced, but the only thing currently bubbling up, over the surface of every other emotion was the pure, seething rage left behind in the wake of fearing for her life.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she stepped towards him, gun still raised, fuming. 

“Hey, hey!” he staggered backwards, hands raised, eyes averted. 

“I thought you were a fucking robber!” she hissed. “I thought you were here to kill me!”

“Lower your voice,” he scolded. “You’re going to wake your neighbors.”

Taking a deep breath, she realized she still had her gun trained on him and she lowered it, clicking the safety and discarding the weapon on the countertop. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you,” he smirked, but she wasn’t finished, and she glowered at him. 

“You broke into my apartment!” she growled.

“I had to be sure I was in the right place.”

“Yeah? You couldn’t have knocked first?”

He nodded, eyes trailing down to her hands, which were trembling, she hadn’t even realized. He seemed to understand what he’d done then, and she flexed her fingers, eyes locking with his. “I suppose...you may be right,” he said, surrendering.

She felt the rage subsiding as she took in his appearance. He looked not so different from the last time she’d seen him, except a fair amount of stubble covered his jawline in a short beard. He was still devastatingly handsome. Zemo’s dark eyes, filled with longing, drank her in, tilting his head as his gaze shifted to her lips. It was like she could read his mind, she knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. And her body was going to betray her if he kept it up.

Despite everything, she was still upset. Upset and embarrassed, as the light was doing an unflattering expose of her tiny, cluttered apartment, full of mismatched furniture and water-damaged wallpaper that her landlord refused to replace. It probably gave the prison cells that Helmut had spent years in a run for their money, and was in stark contrast to every other aspect of his life.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty liquor bottles on her countertop, stowed in her trash can. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not tonight,” she quipped, on guard. Had to be. As much as some old instinct told her to throw herself into his arms, press her lips to the underside of his jaw, and let him envelope her in the comfort of his embrace, she knew she couldn’t.

“Hmm,” he brushed past her, frowning, looking disappointed, as he made his way to her living room. 

“How did you find me?” she asked, eyeing him wearily.

“I’m a wanted man, I trace every call that comes into my estate,” he said over his shoulder. 

Helmut was taking inventory of the cramped space, staring at the photos she’d hung in a collage on the wall behind her couch, with a few watercolors painted by her late husband. One in particular, that he was focused on now, was from her wedding. Of all the memories she chose to hang, this one was her fondest, her former partner was all dark curly hair falling into deep blue eyes, and she was the portrait of a blushing bride, wearing a dopey love-drunk smile, gazing at him, ignoring the camera. 

“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. He was so out of place here, standing in her living room, for a moment she thought he might be a hallucination, some physical manifestation of the heartbreak she’d experienced. “Although that doesn’t surprise me.”

She flushed, suddenly self-conscious in her thin black robe and still-damp hair. It occurred to her that she wasn’t looking her best, which made this whole situation that much more disconcerting. However, the compliment disarmed her slightly, and the anger she felt began to dissipate, slowly. She was going to offer him something to drink until her cat, who had been absent through the chaos, suddenly jumped up on the back of the couch and promptly hissed at him in an attempt to defend her territory.

“Pumpkin, be nice,” she said, although it was mostly to placate Helmut. Pumpkin never listened to her. 

Helmut let her sniff his hand, and she was stunned when the cat rubbed her face against it. Of course, Pumpkin would like him of all people. That made sense. Then again, she supposed it made them not so different. He turned away to look at the rest of the room. “I see you haven’t kicked that bad habit you told me about,” he gestured at the ashtray full of roaches on the coffee table. 

“Did you just come to my place to insult me?” she asked, putting her hands on her lips and feigning confidence. She could’ve rolled over and cried and told him how much she missed him, how many nights she’d spent crying over him, and while all of it was true, she felt indignation was the better option for her self-preservation.

“That’s a good question,” Helmut turned to face her now, hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing. Completely inappropriate for the weather here, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be.”

He snorted, his frustration evident, and she saw a glimpse of the man that so many feared, the side that had earned him his dangerous reputation, that had him locked away in a high-security prison for nearly a decade. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing, draga, we’re going to have it out.”

“Fine,” she said, lacing as much venom as she could into her words to prepare herself. “Then get on with it.”

He stared her down, and the expression her wore startled her, something sparkled in his eyes, mischief, relief maybe? It was insulting. Like he didn’t take her seriously. But there was something else there, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was wiped from his visage before it registered.

The tension in the room dissipated slightly when Zemo sat on the arm of the worn couch she’d bought from a yard sale, and she winced. “I spoke to Oeznik the other day,” he said flatly, snorting, eyes focused on a stain on one of the rugs she owned. “He told me he had the pleasure of speaking to a friend of mine about a month ago.”

Frowning, she tilted her head, her eyes meeting Helmut’s. Something in her brain sparked a memory she’d once dismissed as a dream after a particularly bad night of drinking.

“He was concerned, you see, because this friend didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind,” Helmut rose from the arm of the couch, stalking forward slowly, and she couldn’t move backwards, not even if she wanted to, as he could pin her easily against the front door. His voice grew louder, faster as he went on. “He said she was crying, slurring her words, he told me he thought maybe she might be-” Helmut cut himself off abruptly and closed his eyes, clenching one of his fists, a look of distress on his face as he took in a terse breath. “I won’t finish that thought, but you’re a smart girl, you can imagine what I’m getting at.”

Swallowing hard, the phone call came back to her in pieces, the tears, sobbing on the phone to a man she hardly knew. It was the night she finally admitted to herself she’d made a mistake, even though she’d already known it, deep down when she left him in the hotel room. 

“Please forgive me for breaking in tonight,” Helmut said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of you not answering the door, I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”

Exhaling through her nose, she looked at the floor. “It’s not like that. I had too much to drink.” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “It was just a bad night.”

“Then tell me, what was the horrible mistake you made?” he asked, stepping closer. He was close to her, now. So close. And his proximity made everything more difficult.

God, if only she could remember exactly what she’d said, the only thing that came to her were the emotions, desperation, sadness, grief. It was all too much, and he was threatening to bring them all back to destroy her again. 

“I shouldn’t have called,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, tilting his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hard it was to sit on a plane when all I wanted to do was be here? With you?” His hand rose to cup her cheek, stopping just short of her face when she flinched away from his touch.

“Please stop,” she managed, the burn of tears behind her eyes almost menacing. The last thing she needed was to cry in front of him. “You’re undoing everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“You’re….you’re here,” she murmured weakly, wetness seeping, glossing over her pupils. “I only have so much capacity for pain right now, if you touch me now, you’ll ruin everything.”

No one ever had this kind of hold on her, she’d never bent her rules to appease anyone else, and she’d gone toe to toe with super soldiers. He was just a man, and yet, he terrified her. 

“You really want me to leave?”

She couldn’t answer, but one tear escaped, sliding down her cheekbone, and she sniffled. 

“I’m not the one who did this to you,” his thumb, swiped along her face gently, wiping it away. He’d touched her, just barely, and she was reeling. 

“I know,” she stuttered, gasping. “I know it was me, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You are so stubborn.” His expression softened as he looked upon her, his thumb tracing underneath her jaw, tilting her head upwards to look at him. Malleable, she obliged. “I’ve thought about you everyday since the night we spent together. You’ve plagued me. That can’t be a coincidence. Are you really happier this way? You must be honest with me.”

She shook her head, blinking out fresh tears. “No, I’m not. I just thought...by the time I realized I made the wrong choice, you’d have moved on. People like us don’t get to be happy.”

“Says who?”

How could she refuse him anymore? This would continue to go on until she gave in. And from the beginning, she wanted to give in. There was no use in fighting the inevitable. The small point of contact -- his hand on her chin -- radiated impressive warmth, and she could feel every part of herself being attracted to him, quelling some ache deep within her. 

Reaching up, she clutched at Helmut’s palm, which didn’t last long, because he pulled her into his arms, nestling her head underneath his chin. She melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his solid frame. 

“Come home with me,” he coaxed softly. 

“I will,” she murmured, surrendering to the comfort of his presence. “But you have to let me bring Pumpkin.”

He chuckled, warm and amiable, the vibration of his chest echoing in her own. “Of course, you’ll bring Pumpkin,” he murmured into her hair. Oh, how she had missed hearing him laugh. They could’ve stayed that way for hours, and she would’ve been content, but he pulled away, hands on either side of her face as he studied her.

Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in to kiss him. It was chaste at first, all the memories of her last night with him came flooding back quickly when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t want that quite yet, just needed a moment to process this. The simple comfort of being held by him, kissed by him, was more than enough for now. He’d been waiting for this, she could assume in the way that he responded, pulling her impossibly close so she was engulfed in him.

Her stomach flipped, a warmth blossoming in her chest as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. “Oh, I missed you,” she sighed, shivering as his beard tickled her neck, his mouth on her sensitive skin.

“And I, you,” he murmured. His eyes studied her, carefully, up close, and for the first time since meeting him, she really let him see her, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

She would never let him go again. 

---

A/N: So here we are! I know it’s been a ride, but I’m really excited for these two. However, I don’t feel like I’m done writing for Zemo yet. If ya’ll have any headcanons, thoughts, questions, requests, etc, feel free to drop them in my ask box or shoot me a DM. I’d love to talk more about him. I also would be down to write more oneshots based around this series, because I am sort of like….okay, they obviously have a connection, but they don’t know that much about each other, and I may or may not have a light future already mapped out for them. I might do an epilogue at some point even. But if you have anything you’d like to add, let me know!

Taglist: @juice-1981  @sapphiredreamer26  @tatooineisdry  @marvelsvision @spookycereal-s @trelaney @fireghost-x @booksarekindaneat  @thunderingbats  @felicityofbakerstreet @takacsgram @mischiefmanaged71 @fanfictionedagain @merelyhooper @gyllord @mundaytuesday @friday18eo  @lovegood7553  @adara-wolfhart @a-djarin @farawaywasteland @sky-writes-stuff @fuckinglittlekitten @katyasrussianaccent @agent-jbarnes  @neoarchipelago @pattispunk @kpopnena @purebloodwitch @spookyconsultingcriminal @msmarvelwrites @professorrw @lazyradeecal @captainrexstan @notyourfuckingbusinesss @felicityofbakerstreet @unlikekiana @maeday-18 @friendly-letters @fandom-lover-4 @meefal @queenfairyfangirl @gogomonbebelf @scullys-alienpussy @the-multiverse-approach @sky-writes-stuff @safiakillspop @eggofhumiliation @originalcollectorsaladsstuff @archangelproperty @friday18eo @jayden-rose-leon @actuallyanita @mayhemmachine @kermuddgen @zadiewrites @pach-inks @theokatz @reichelhache @autumnsoidier @mischief-siriusly-managed @danaaeaa @joey-motorola @singlemomslayer @stevesbestgirl @dinna-fashh @popriskra @xaanyhs @adorable-punk-superheroes​

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo imagine #baron zemo #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #marvel writing #tfatws writing #daniel bruhl #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #tfatws fanfiction #series

[andypantsx3]

shoto and 'when i find out who is responsible for this...' IM A SUCKER FOR OVERPROTECTIVE SHO LMAO

This one was one of my faves to write, I really hope you like it!

Damage | Todoroki/Reader

Prompt: “When I find out who is responsible for this...” Word Count: 1600 words Tags/Warnings: SFW, ye olde quirk accident trope Notes: Special thanks again to my lady love @bobawithpomegranate for beta-ing me!! Also, for anyone who hasn’t suffered a corporate job: KPIs = key performance indicators, which are a set of business metrics used to measure success in certain areas.

The first sign that something was wrong should have been in line for security. 

Ayako—your favorite member of the Todoroki Agency security team—was waving a detector wand over your clothes when she asked casually, “How’s it going?”

Any other morning, your response was something along the lines of, “Oh, it’s going. How are you?” This morning, however, you blurted, “Good! Except that I bumped someone on the train and spent ten minutes trying to get a coffee stain out of this shirt, and I feel a little sick when I think about leading the KPIs review because Shouto’s property damage numbers are up again which doesn’t look great, so I skipped breakfast but honestly I’m super hungry right now, that was a bad choice, and—”

You cut yourself off, utterly bewildered. Ayako looked similarly nonplussed, raising a slim brow. 

“Uh, nevermind. I’ll just be going,” you said, and hared off to the rest of the security checkpoints before she could give commentary.

So you might have known that something was wrong even before you let yourself into Shouto’s manager’s office, armed with your monthly spreadsheets and performance slide decks. But you hadn’t given it more thought since then, a move which proved to be a complete mistake.

Shouto was already there, lounging in the set of chairs in front of his manager’s desk, looking less like a hero waiting for a meeting and more like some airbrushed ad for his dark turtleneck or his close-fit grey slacks. Your heart shot into your throat at the sight of him, like it usually did, and you had to remind yourself to relax.

Though he was unbearably handsome to the point of distraction, Shouto was relatively easy to get along with, something that should have made you calmer in his presence. He was straightforward, possessed of very little ego, thoughtful, and a very linear and strategic thinker—you’d worked extremely well with him the past couple of years, and Shouto, though he had less to do with the daily operations of the agency, had helped push your promotion last year to Director of Public Relations. It should have added up to an easy and uncomplicated work partnership, but his personality only made your unfortunate crush on him even worse.

He was so horribly, horribly perfect. And you were an awful little metrics gremlin, called in to roast him over the open flame of public opinion once a month. Really not something Shouto might be interested in.

“Y/N,” he said, looking up from his phone and fixing you with an intent look. Your heart stuttered under those heterochromatic eyes.

“Hi, Shouto,” you said, setting down your bag and digging out your laptop for something to take your attention off of him. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he answered in his deep tone. “How are you?”

And that was it. The damning question that sent it all to hell.

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered, naming the symptoms of his very presence.

There was a beat of silence. You froze, crouched over your bag, laptop halfway out of it. Then it hit you what had just been said, and you slapped a hand over your mouth in horror. 

Shouto was up out of his chair in the blink of an eye, kneeling in front of you with cool fingers on your face, angling it towards him.

“You’re not well?” he asked, those eyes locking on you with an alarming intensity.

His attention only made things worse. “I feel like I might pass out,” you said, cringing even as the words left your mouth.

Fuck, what the hell were you saying? You were making it sound like you were some Victorian maiden, ready to swoon in the mere company of a gentleman. And why were you saying this shit? You’d worked with him for years and you’d never let slip the effect he had on you—what was wrong with you this morning?

You thought back to the coffee incident on the train this morning, the way the girl whose drink you had spilled had startled, the way she had weirdly apologized to you even as you were in the midst of your own apology.

A sense of foreboding settled over you. 

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“I think I’ve been hit with a quirk,” you blabbed.

Shouto’s features shuttered, a hard look you’d never really seen before entering his eye. He went over to his manager’s desk, dialing a number on her office phone, and then he was talking in low tones, asking someone from medical to come up to her office immediately.

Then he was back at your side, easing you carefully to the floor like you actually were in danger of passing out, and not just a huge idiot with an incredibly fat crush that made you say the world’s most ridiculous things.

“When I find out who’s responsible for this,” he uttered, low and dangerous, “they might never be able to use a quirk again.”

For some reason, the threat warmed you, even as it sent a little shiver down your spine. Was it weird to find him hot when he was angry?

You clamped your mouth firmly shut, lest you tell him exactly what illness prevailed you, but your silence was all for naught.

Because when one of the medical staff made it up to the office, pressing a quirk testing strip to your skin, she pronounced, “A truth quirk.”

Shouto caught your hand before it could smack into your forehead, looking surprised that he had done so. And then even more surprised at the pronouncement.

“A truth quirk,” he echoed, looking down at you curiously. His fingers were gentle where they held your wrist.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“But then, you’re still not well,” he said. He looked up at the medical staffer. “She’s feeling faint, and having problems with her heart.”

“She’s fine,” the staffer confirmed, holding up a scanner with your vital readings. They were embarrassingly perfect—incredibly, perfectly, damnably normal.

You could have died. You literally could have died.

Shouto looked down at you with a little wrinkle on his perfect brow, obviously wondering how you could admit symptoms like that given a truth quirk, only for there to be no physical sign of them. You tried to hold down the truth, but another question from him doomed you.

“But how?” he asked, clearly concerned, cool fingers smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I have an insanely huge crush on you,” you blurted. Then you unleashed a string of colorful swears, flushing so hot you thought you might catch fire.

Those heterochromatic eyes went a little round at the edges.

The medical staffer looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh as she bade a quick farewell. She was out the door before you could catch her sleeve and hold her like a shield against Shouto’s incredibly penetrating stare.

“I’m. Um. You know, sorry and everything,” you added. “I won’t let it interfere with work. I mean, I haven’t, any of the past couple years—fuck, oh my god, I just said that—”

Shouto was watching your mouth like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of it.

“Say it again,” he said.

You paused, staring at him. “What?”

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“My heart feels like it could explode any second, and I feel kind of faint, weirdly weak, and incredibly distracted,” you answered obediently.

“Because of me,” he said, like it was a wonder.

You gave him an annoyed look. Obviously because of him, who the fuck else did he think wielded that combination of attractiveness and straightforward appeal like an S-class quirk of its own?

Shouto choked on a laugh, and you realized with some horror that you’d said all of that out loud. 

Damn the fucking truth quirk.

“I don’t know,” Shouto said, sounding amused. “I think I rather like it. When I find out who is responsible for this, I might have to thank them instead.”

This stopped you short.

He what now?

“I’m sorry, what?”

Something a little like a smirk curled the corner of Shouto’s mouth. “It is generally gratifying to know one’s feelings are returned, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know—” you started, feeling annoyed with him again. Then you choked when the implication of his words sank in.

Shouto’s fingers slid down to cup your chin, and suddenly it felt like every nerve ending in your body was concentrated there, the touch magnified a thousand-fold into an all-consuming sensation. 

“Would you like me to kiss you?” he asked lightly, looking smug.

“Oh my god yes—” The answer was out of your mouth before he’d even finished the question.

Shouto laughed, and then he was leaning in. You could feel the smile still on his mouth when it met yours. Shouto’s kiss was careful and attentive, but you could sense something deeper beneath, the same kind of restrained sort of passion that underlaid his quirk. Having that kind of controlled intensity turned on you was something you could have never prepared for.

The kiss became deeper and more heated, and Shouto was just easing you backwards again, still pressed firmly to you, when the door opened and his manager blew in.

“This is a fucking office,” she said, stepping over the two of you like you were a grimy puddle in the street. “Now hurry the fuck up, we have KPIs to review. Shouto—don’t think this will derail me from your property damage numbers increasing.”

Shouto huffed into your mouth, slumping against you.

You couldn’t do anything but laugh.

Current event masterlist in pinned!

#todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #garbage fest 2021 #garbage fest fics

[helliontherapscallion]

Going Mining (Adrenaline Junkie Part 2)

Part 1     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, OOC sbi

Word count: 2,582

It had been about a year since you told your family about your tendencies. Since then, you quickly became efficient in the art of redstone wiring. The precious dust became your saving grace in a way, it was because of it that you stopped skydiving. Of course, you missed the feeling you got when you got close to the ground going at mach speed, but they were just intrusive thoughts at this point; you didn’t make any move to fulfill your desire. Redstone wiring took your mind off from it.

Lately, you spent most of your time in the basement where you set up your workshop to craft most of your supplies and write out blueprints. You were working on finding out a way to somehow launch TNT to make igniting it safer. You figured out that you could use a dispenser to plant the TNT, repeaters to prolong the time the TNT gets placed, a button to press to initiate the whole process, and use redstone dust to connect everything together. Now you have a working TNT launcher, but you have to find a block to use as a wall to protect the user from the shockwave of the explosion. You found out the hard way that the shockwave is enough to knock you back a few feet and give you small burns.

You reached over for more iron to make another repeater, but your hand came up empty. You furrowed your brows as your hand patted around the chest before finally looking over to look more closely. The chest was completely empty. You groaned in frustration, you could’ve sworn that you had more iron to work with. Looks like you had to go mining again. Sighing as you checked your redstone dust supplies, you supposed that you could look for more of that too.

Prying your goggles off from your eyes and placing them on your crafting table, you checked the time. It was almost sunset, which means it’s close to dinner time. You walked up the stairs and to the kitchen, where Philza was cooking dinner.

Sitting down at the dinner table, you greeted him. “Hey Dad, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Steak and baked potatoes. How’s the TNT launcher coming up?”

“It’s coming along. At this point, I just need to figure out what block I could use as a wall to block the shockwave and how many repeaters I need.”

You remembered earlier today when you got the unexpected knockback in your backyard where you were building the launcher. Philza got used to the constant explosions, so he wasn’t phased when the explosion was louder than usual. He just thought you were using more TNT than usual, so he just resumed chopping wood. Soon after the explosion, he heard a thud and a groan coming from you. When he glanced in your direction, he saw you laying in the grass a few feet from the launcher. He chided you for not being careful with how much TNT you used, but he was proud of you for being so innovative. After giving you a health potion for your burns you got, he told you that you were done building for the day.

He hummed thoughtfully as he flipped a steak. “Have you thought about using obsidian? It’s pretty durable and it could withstand quite a bit of damage.”

You slapped a hand to your forehead. Why didn’t you think about using obsidian? Most TNT technicians used obsidian to shield them.

“...No, no I haven’t. You don’t suppose that we have any laying around?”

“I’m sorry hun, but we don’t. I could go mining for some though.”

“No that’s fine, I was actually going to find a cave tomorrow to restock on iron and redstone. I’m running low.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll lend you my diamond pickaxe. The iron pickaxe you have won’t mine through obsidian. Dinner’s almost done, can you go get your brothers?”

“On it!”

You ran up the stairs, hearing the strumming of a guitar growing louder as you approached Wilbur’s room. Knocking loud enough for him to hear over the guitar, the strumming stopped and he called out a “come in”.

Opening the door, you smiled at him. “Hey Wil. Dad wanted me to tell you dinner’s almost ready. That new song sounds great by the way.”

He put his precious guitar back into its case on his bed as he turned around and returned your smile.

“Thanks (y/n). Tell him that I’ll be down in a moment.”

Nodding, you closed his door and went across the hall to Techno’s room. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal your oldest brother. 

“I heard you tell Wilbur dinner’s ready. I’ll see you there.”

You stepped aside to let him into the hall and started to walk to Tommy’s room. You swung open his door and chuckled lightly as he jumped.

“Hey gremlin. Dinner’s ready.”

“How come you knock on Wilbur’s and The Blade’s door but not mine? I could’ve been naked!”

“You do the same thing to me. Techno and Wil knock on my door, so I knock on theirs. Now, get down to the dining room before your food gets cold.”

He stood up to his full height and casually walked over to you. In the past year he has grown to be almost 8 inches taller than you and he didn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon. To your surprise, he shoved you to the side and sprinted out of his room.

“LAST ONE TO THE DINING ROOM HAS TO DO THE DISHES TONIGHT!”

“NOT FAIR, YOU GOT A HEAD START.”

You sprinted after him, but he was ahead of you by time you passed your other brother’s rooms. By the time you got to the top of the stairs, he was halfway down them. There was only one way you’d win. You hauled yourself over the railing of the stairs and jumped, extending your wings to slow your descent. You swiftly regained your footing and sprinted towards the kitchen with desperation. You weren’t going to do the dishes when it was Tommy’s turn; it was your night last night. You laughed in an early celebration when you neared the door to the dining room. There was no way Tommy could possibly-

You yelped as you felt your body being pulled back and a slight pain in your wings. Tommy must’ve grabbed your wings. Falling on your ass, you quickly reached to grab Tommy’s ankle to bring him down on the ground with you. He landed on his stomach with a thud as you pulled him back as hard as you could. You crawled towards the dining room door, only to feel Tommy grabbing your wings again to pull you back. Wincing as you felt some feathers being yanked out, you cursed your wings for growing to be almost larger than your body and easy to grab. You slid across the ground as Tommy pulled you back and tried to crawl into the dining room. You reached out with your other wing and started battering his head to disorient him. It worked as he stopped and you felt him trying to swat your wing away so he could see. Making haste, you crawled into the dining room.

“OI THAT’S NOT FAIR. YOU STARTED HITTING ME.”

“All’s fair in love and war, gremlin. Besides, you pulled my wings first, so you technically started it. I wasn’t about to do the dishes for you.”

“I don’t know why you are the one calling me gremlin, you’re short as hell.”

“Oi, 5’2 is average height! You all are just way too tall!”

Despite you and Tommy arguing, you both were giggling and smiling at each other. The rest of your family watched you two in amusement for a couple of minutes before Philza spoke up.

“Alright you two, dinner’s gonna get cold if you keep it up. Tommy, (y/n) won fair and square. You will also pick up the feathers you plucked out after dinner. (Y/n), don’t jump over the railing again. I understand that you can fly but still that’s dangerous.”

You both murmured “yes, Dad” before taking your seats at the table. As the dinner progressed, everyone had small side conversations about how their days were. Dinner went by faster than usual, probably because everyone was tired. 

Tommy grumbled to himself as he picked up the feathers on the ground. Taking pity on him, you picked up everyone’s dishes and took them to the kitchen sink and filled it up with soapy water for Tommy. You washed and dried them by time he got done picking up your feathers. He was an annoying little gremlin, but he was your little annoying gremlin. You loved your little brother.

“...Thanks for helping me. You didn’t have to do the dishes.”

“It’s not a problem, Tommy. You already had to pick up my feathers. Er, sorry for hitting you with my wings, that probably hurt.”

He chuckled, rubbing his head. “It kinda hurt, but I deserved it for pulling out your feathers.”

You moved your wing in front of you to examine it. Only a few secondary feathers were missing, it was probably mostly your semiplume feathers he pulled out. 

“You didn’t do too much damage, no worries. I’m going mining tomorrow, is there anything you need me to pick up?”

His eyes lit up. “If you find a diamond, give it to me. My jukebox broke today.”

“I gotchu. It’s getting pretty late, T. We should go to bed.”

You gestured for Tommy to follow as you started to walk back into the dining room and into the kitchen. You two made comfortable small talk as you walked back to your rooms for the night. After changing into your pajamas, you plopped onto your bed and buried yourself in your sheets. You struggled to cover your wings before giving up and leaving them to droop off the side of your bed. You really needed to ask Philza how he covered his wings, they were larger than yours so he probably had a little technique he uses. 

Having wings kinda sucked sometimes. Besides not being able to cover them with a blanket easily, they didn’t fit on your bed if you wanted to stretch them out to their full length. When you were younger, your wings always fit on your bed and you would always keep them covered. But now with your wingspan being longer than your height, they were a pain to manage, especially at night. You always had to either sleep on your stomach or side and you couldn’t roll over without pulling a muscle in your wing. Because of this, it usually took you a little longer than most to fall asleep.

Your blissful slumber was interrupted by the light peeking in through your curtains. Sitting up, you stretched out your wings, smiling in satisfaction when you heard them crack. You stood up and grabbed your clothes for the day. Since you usually woke up a little earlier than your brothers, you always got first dibs on the shower after Philza. You yawned tiredly as you flicked on the water faucet and stepped into the shower. Now slightly more awake, you stepped out and started to preen your wings. Another downside to having wings is how high maintenance they are. 

After taking care of the rest of your morning routine, you went down to the kitchen where Philza was sitting at the table drinking some coffee looking as dead inside as ever. 

“Mornin’ Dad.”

He grunted in response. He was never a morning person, even after adopting four kids. You walked over to the chest where the food is kept and pulled out some eggs, bread, and beef. Usually, you made breakfast while Philza made dinner. You hummed a small tune as you flipped the eggs and turned over the beef sausages. One by one, your brothers joined Philza at the table and waited while you cooked. 

You grabbed four plates and sets of silverware from the cabinets and put on an appropriate amount of food on each, placing them in front of your siblings and dad. You grabbed your own before joining them at the table. 

“So, I’m going mining today. Is there anything you guys want me to get?”

They all chimed in with their needs. Philza wanted you to grab more iron and diamonds, Techno wanted some gold, Wilbur didn’t ask for anything, and you already knew what Tommy wanted. It sounded easy enough.

While the boys wrapped up breakfast, you excused yourself from the table and went back to your room to grab your satchel, pocket watch, iron pickaxe, and iron sword. Walking back downstairs, Philza gave you the supplies you would need today: a diamond pickaxe and a plethora of torches. “No staying out past sunset. Don’t mine down. Stay aware of your surroundings. If you see a mob, do not try to fight it, just try to run. If you get hurt, come straight home. If you get lost, follow the torches.”

“You worry about us too much.”

He sighed as he pulled you into a hug. “I just want you to be safe, hun.”

You smiled as you hugged him back and wrapped your wings around him. “I know, Dad. I’ll be safe, promise.” 

“You better, or else you’re grounded,” he joked.

You chuckled as you pulled away and said goodbye to your brothers for the day. Heading out into the brisk morning, you took in a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You had a feeling that this mining trip was going to be bountiful. You spread your wings and took off into the sky. 

Flying for a while, you spotted an opening in the ground. Grinning, you gradually landed before walking into the cave.

You spent hours mining precious ores, working your way deeper and deeper into the cave. You still had at least five hours before you had to start heading back to the house, so you thought going deeper wasn’t going to hurt anybody. 

You hummed to yourself as you passed multiple stalagmites. This cave was seemingly never ending, you’d have to mark it on your map so you could come back to it. The mouth of the cave kept getting larger and larger until it melded into a huge, winding cavern. You’ve never been this deep before, so you were excited to explore. Being mindful of placing down torches, you explored the cavern before you came across a strange looking block you’ve never seen before.

It glowed a luminescent green as weird looking projections (tentacles maybe? Was this thing alive?) flailed about before they fell into a relaxed movement and stopped glowing. Reaching out to poke it, you cringed as it felt weirdly moist and it made a slight squelching noise. It flailed about again as it glowed. You saw movement in the corner of your eye and turned to see another one of the blocks doing the same thing. How weird. 

Suddenly, the nearby lights started to flicker on and off, even your torches, as you heard a rhythmic thudding sound bounce off the walls of the cave. The thudding got louder and louder gradually as you frantically looked around for whatever it was and pulled out your sword. Hearing movement from behind you, you turned around only to freeze in fear. 

What the fuck was that?

#sbi x reader #sibling reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 15 - The Result

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter (TBA)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: smut: oral sex (m! receiving), unprotected sex, joel breeding kink go brrr; talks of depression, anxiety and PTSD, detailed descriptions of bloodshed/death.

Summary: The confrontation the reader had been waiting for finally happens.

Word Count: 5.771

Author's Note: I apologise for the repost y'all!! The chapter didn't appear on the tags and I didn't notice it soon enough!! If this doesn't appear as well...

Enjoy!

The last heatwaves of summer started coming in with full force as September approached– a final storm before the calm. It wasn't completely intolerable, but it still messed with a lot of people: even you and Joel had to stay away from one another during the nights due to the heat making everything more sticky and irritable. It was annoying as hell, given that you had Joel all to yourself for a whole week now.

That certainly didn't stop you two from having sex before his departure, of course.

It took you some time to anchor yourself back to reality after what happened with Ward – the first three days were the worst with the episodes and attacks, but you don't think you could've made it this far in such a short time without Ellie and Joel. This was practically nothing compared to when you had first arrived in Jackson... if you had them both with you when–

Doesn't matter now. It took you months and it wouldn't have mattered if it had taken more– you made it. At the end, you got through it.

You and Joel talked about things, too. A lot of it mostly surrounding Kiki and Ward, of course. Things were cleared out, feelings were gotten off of chests and apologies were made: One day, after going out to get groceries while you chopped some vegetables for dinner, he put the sacks on the counter island and approached you, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"Smells delicious," He murmured into your ear and placed a kiss on your cheek, then put his chin on your shoulder, ever so slowly –with minimal movement– swaying you to the smooth jazz playing in the living room.

"I didn't cook anything yet?" You raised a brow and smiled at the way his beard scratched at the side of your face.

"Didn't mean the food," He whispered and kissed the back of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as you chuckled. He then moved down the line behind your artery, peppering kisses there, each and every single touch of his lips sending a rather pleasant feeling between your legs.

You slowly leaned your head back against his shoulder as he took your hands in his, making you put the knife down and let him sway you to the wordless tune playing in the background.

He eventually stopped when he reached your collarbones and turned you around to face him: "Mrs. Miller..." Your smile grew at the name: "How're you on this fine evenin'?"

"Just fine, Mr. Miller." You grinned and mimicked his accent. He placed one hand on your waist while the other grabbed your hand. He smelled so wonderful and looked so good–

"Would ya fancy a dance, m'lady?" His teeth showed when his smirk grew wider, your faces were almost touching.

"Ain't you a dandy and a charmer?" You chuckled, your lips brushing against his and chests pressed against each other.

This? This was everything. All of your problems and worries gone even just for a moment or two– you'd do anything for him.

The small dance you two had going on lasted another minute before the track ended softly. Joel finally stopped teasing your lips and pressed a gentle kiss against them, which you returned with more hunger and passion.

"A little dance got you all excited?" Joel chuckled when he pulled back for air, noticing your hands had already unbuttonned his shirt halfway.

"You got me all excited," You beamed at him and dipped your hands under his shirt before reaching the last two buttons, feeling his warm skin under your fingertips and sighing into his chest. "We haven't done it in awhile..."

"Tsk," Joel shook his head with a soft grin, licking his lips as his pupils dilated the longer he thought of the last time you had sex, which was when he came in you for the first time. It had him weak in the knees, and would definitely do it again if you let him. He then softly leaned in and placed a wet kiss on your neck, making you sigh and close your eyes.

His hands placed themselves on your waist as he pushed you against the counter island, lightly marking your neck as he went: "Should'a done this a few days back, would'a marked you red and blue since y'ain't goin' out..."

You quietly moaned as he trapped you in place, lightly pushing your shirt up and massaging your sides as he did. You took the opportunity to place a kiss on his neck in return, hearing him growl softly, so you did it again, and again, and again...

Sex with Joel never ceased to satisfy you: He always managed to get you all giddy and excited like a child given a reward. His movements gained some speed as soon as his hands cupped your breasts, immediately taking your shirt off and kissing your lips hungrily. His arms closed around your waist and back as he moved down to your jaw and neck, biting and licking his way to your shoulders.

"Joel... the food..." Your chuckles mixed with moans the more his beard and lips caressed your skin. At your words, he picked you up and placed you on the counter, hooking his fingers through the waistbands of your shorts.

"I'll be full in a few," He smirked and started kissing down your breasts as he slowly dragged your shorts down your legs. His tongue worked wonders on your nipples while your fingers made their way through his hair, giving him soft hisses and quiet moans whenever he lightly bit on the skin.

Moments later, he was on his knees, caressing and kissing your inner thighs, not pulling back on leaving hickeys where he knew your shorts would cover to spare you the embarrassment; although that didn't keep him from lightly biting on the skin that showed too.

He then spread your legs and started giving tiny licks along your slit, making you slowly lean back onto your elbows, only to suddenly land on your back when he pulled you forwards by your thighs. You gave a brief chuckle as he feasted on your juices like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks.

As soon as you threw your head back, you opened your eyes to an intensifying sizzling sound, gasping when you saw the pan on the stove: "Joel! The food!"

"Oh shit–" He quickly left your wetness and practically threw himself over to the stove. After that was out of the way, you both stood still and giggled briefly. "Why'd you cook this much food?"

"Ellie asked if she could eat with us," You spoke as you got off the counter. "Said she didn't have time to cook for herself, I said sure. She then asked if Jesse could come too– Wait, what time is it?"

"Five twenty."

"Oh, good."

"Why?"

"Because," You gave him a mischievous smirk as you walked over to him and hooked your fingers behind his belt without breaking eye contact, pulling him back to the counter island. "That means we have at least another half hour before they arrive, but we still gotta be qui– Hmph!"

His lips were instantly on yours as he quickly pressed your back against the counter, but you stopped him before he could go down on you: "Nu-uh. I may be the cook–" You grabbed him through his trousers, making his hips jerk forward: "But I gotta eat too."

He made to protest –he's been going on about how you should take it easy and how your pleasure was more important than his (it was funny how he thought his pleasure didn't add to yours)– but you were already sinking to your knees, trapping yourself between his legs and the counter.

"There we go," You cooed as you got rid of his belt. Joel sighed deeply and closed his eyes, putting his hands on the surface above your head and leaning into your touch instinctively.

You were quick to pull him out of his underwear, pumping his cock a few times before giving it a few licks around the tip, to which he hissed quietly.

It was when you decided to take all his length to the back of your throat at one go that his hands shot to your hair: "Jesus– christ, doll!"

You offered a quiet giggle while you played with him in your hand, then slowly and rhythmically you took him in your mouth, but not even a few minutes later, Joel pulled your hair into a ponytail with both hands: "Can't believe I'm sayin' this but, food can wait."

You gave him a surprised look before he gently grabbed your jaw and lightly pressed your cheeks to make you open your mouth wider, then pushed his cock down your throat. Gagging and moaning you grabbed his hips, to which he responded: "A-ah, no hands Dolly."

You were perhaps too quick to drop your hands to your sides, then lace your fingers behind your back to keep yourself from grabbing him. You let him use your mouth for a few minutes: the sounds of wetness and gagging, plus occasional grunts and moans from him was heavenly for the both of you.

"Fuck– Dolly, up," He suddenly pulled out and leaned down to pull you up. He turned you around and gently, but with rushed movements, bent you over the counter a little. He entered you with one precise thrust, making you bend even more. You moaned simultaneously when he did, staying still a little for you to adjust.

He then leaned down over you, framing your body with his. Your bare back pressed against his naked chest, his hands wrapping themselves around your arms –then wrists– as his chin found its place like a puzzle piece in the crook of your neck. You loved it when he covered you like this, loved when he was so desperate, loved when he couldn't help himself and couldn't get enough of your–

"You get me so– shit," He growled as he pulled back and thrusted in again. He began with a steady rhythm, making you moan softly. You felt your eyes roll back when he nibbled at your ear and kissed your neck.

"Fuck– Joel, fuck–" You moaned, the pitch of your voice rising like it did when you began closing in on your orgasm. You both were aware how you were short on time and had to make this into a quickie, a promise of something more when night time fell and you both were alone in your room, hungry for one another like you were now.

"Want me to– to come in you again? Y'think I put a baby in you the last time?" He moaned at the way you squeezed around him, wriggled under his body and cried out at his words. "Don't matter, we can do it again to make sure– just say the words."

"Joel– ah, ah," You gasped when one of his hands left your wrist to draw circles around your clit, making you thrust back to his rhythm. "Fuck, come inside me, please."

"Shit, (Y/N)," He growled low, almost animalistically, into your ear. He placed kisses over your neck, then went up to your jaw and cheek, finally meeting your lips halfway. "Come on, babydoll, put one leg up for me?"

His other hand left your wrist as well when you nodded, helping one leg up to the counter. He proceeded to lean back and up, grab your hips and slam into you as fast and hard as he could, knocking the breath out of you.

"Oh my god!" You cried out, failing to keep up. The skin slapping against skin had long drowned out most of the surrounding sounds, minus your moaning and Joel's growling. "So– so close–"

"This ain't gonna work," He suddenly stopped, murmuring to himself. He put your leg back down, pulled out of you and turned you to face him. The sight of his cock –erect completely, thick and swollen– made you moan quietly. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter once more, spreading your legs. He grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, to the edge, where he thrusted back in.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily, biting on his lower lip, then shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning all the while.

"Ah," He broke off suddenly and put his forehead on your shoulder as he slammed, and slammed, and slammed...

Until he grabbed you by your thighs, his voice cracking slightly, and finally emptied his seed inside you, biting on your shoulder quite aggressively; you didn't mind, however, as it was the final stroke that threw you off the edge. You held onto his shoulders as you both trembled in the other's arms, panting as if you'd run all the way from the western gate to home.

His hips involuntary jerked forwards, his cock twitching inside you. He held you tightly in his arms as you came down your high, becoming sleepy all of a sudden. Him coming inside you had a wonderful effect on the both of you last time, it was no different this time.

"Shit," You hissed. "That was– that was–"

"Mind blowing?" He chuckled, reminding you of one of your quickies during patrol before you got married.

"That's one way to put it," You grinned back and claimed his lips in a sweet kiss. "You should come inside me more often."

You felt him tense a little: "Yeah, about that, are you su–"

Knock knock: "(Y/N)?" Ellie.

"Shit!" You jumped where you sat. Joel immediately pulled himself out of you and tucked his softening cock back in his jeans as you collected your clothing and ran to the bathroom.

After dinner, your love-making continued in your chambers. The pace slowed, the air became somewhat more sentimental, and tears were shed– both of you trembled in the other's arms, kissing and wiping away at the other's wet cheeks. You laid together: entwined, side by side, eventually parting because of the heat...

Now, you laid alone.

Alone in the house after that too-good-to-be-true week, you felt trapped and not as up to date as you liked to be about the town, so you asked Maria to sign you up for supply runs, extra shifts– whatever you were kept from.

People were more happy to see you than you thought they'd be– and more worried about you than Kiki. "You underestimate the place you hold in the community, (Y/N)." Eugene had told you with a pat to the back when you showed up to your first patrol in near two weeks. Before setting off for your assigned route however, Maria called you over with a half worried, half grave expression.

"Gonna tell you something you're not gonna like, so try to keep calm okay?" She stared right through you, making you gulp and nod: "Kiki wants to–" She sighed halfway when you scoffed quietly. "She said she wanted to talk to you, sort things out. She seemed pretty calm, maybe she made her peace with it."

"Nah," You shook your head. "She's got some folks riled up against me, they're giving me weird looks. Won't believe she's made her peace 'til that stops."

"All the more reason for you to talk. Her group's gonna wait for yours to arrive at the checkpoint. It's a good opportunity."

"... Alright." You exhaled heavily as she gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Your group was made of just you and Eugene, but Ellie and Jesse asked if they could join. Jesse was already allowed on paired patrols, but Ellie was a matter of debate as Joel still deemed her young– definitely not because he was worried sick over her.

"Ellie..." You made to protest, but your gut told you to let her tag along.

"(Y/N) c'mon, Joel ain't even here," Eugene.

"No, yeah," You blinked, snapping out of your deep thoughts. "I was gonna say yes, sorry. Come on, hurry then."

Once you reached the checkpoint, you asked Eugene to stay back: "What's up, Dolly?"

"Kiki's in there, she says she wants to talk to me," You explained, hands on your hips. "To sort things out– I don't buy it."

"Woah, hold on. She said that to you?"

"To Maria. She says she's made her peace with what I did, but I say otherwise."

"Like hell she did," Eugene agreed. "I heard she's been calling you a–"

"I–" You put your hand up: "–don't wanna hear what that idiot has to say. I see a few people staring at me whenever I go out, some straight out avoid me."

"You want me to–?"

"No– no I'll talk to her, no biggie. This has to end one way or another, but I don't trust her. Be my eyes?"

"Always, (Y/N)," He started walking towards the doors of the checkpoint, but you stopped him.

"Actually, you watch out for Ellie and Jesse. I'll handle this alone."

"(Y/N)–"

"It's okay, she's weak. Squealed to the softest touch when she first came here, remember? She wouldn't try anything."

"But that was when she first came here. Don't underestimate her."

A warning that had fallen on your deaf ears.

As you reached the doors, you saw Ellie and Jesse standing a feet or two from the entrance awkwardly. You took a deep breath and walked through the door with heavy steps and, as soon as you saw her sitting on the couch, you stood across her: "Let's talk," You looked around the room to find it quite small for you to have privacy: "Leave us. Let's finish this."

"Wh–?"

"It's okay, Ellie– Just step outside for a moment, all of you."

Kiki's group, three other people, left the room with your company while giving you dirty looks. You locked eyes with Eugene, seeing him signal you watch, then as he turned around he also signaled you with hand signals. You really were grateful for him.

"Alright," You straightened up: "Let's get to it. I'm done holding back on you, so don't you dare play coy with me and say what you wanna say and get this over with."

"Very well then." She got up and started walking towards you, but you stopped her.

"I can hear you just fine from where you are." You told her not to approach, eyes instinctively scanning your surroundings. She was around 20 feet away from you, the path between you and her were clear of any obstacles –furniture etc– minus the small set of stairs that led up to where you were standing. There was a table behind you that you spied when you first entered the room, otherwise there was nothing near the neither of you.

"Fine. I was here to talk about Ward."

"I guessed that much."

"You do realise what you've done to me, right? You've ruined my life." Her face didn't reflect the words she spoke, not one bit.

"Oh for god's– I know damn well what I did."

"Did you regret it?"

You clenched, then unclenched your jaw: "Why do you wanna know?"

"I wanted to know if I'm talking to a normal person, or a cold blooded murderer."

Your hands were quick to ball up into fists, but you had to keep your cool. Her face and her stance made your shoulders tense even more– despite how she had behaved when you shot Ward, she was quite calm. Let's not jump to conclusions, you told yourself.

You remained quiet and huffed after a moment: "Let me ask you something."

"Ask away." She was ever so slowly inching closer, but you let her.

"Do you regret it? Me, shooting a man who beats you to a pulp, a man who won't–"

"I loved him, of course I do," She scoffed, but there was no love in her voice, just irritation.

"Or was this your plan all along?" You smirked sardonically, trying to keep your anger away from her prying eyes– allowing her to slip up: "You hated him so much, then you saw Joel and me, wanted my place; that it?"

"Clever, very clever," She nodded. "And what better person to kill Ward than you? How is it going between you and Joel, anyway?" She was suddenly too close: "Does he look at you with disgust every time you go to bed, wishing that it was me instead, the poor woman made into a widow by his own wife?"

Your face scrunched up with disgust and fury: "You fucking–"

"I'm right, aren't I?" Her head was tilted forward, giving you one of the most chilling, emotionless smiles you had ever seen.

"No... you're a fucking psychopath, that's what you are," You frowned.

"Ah, you sounded like Ward. Have you also read those psychology books Doctor Katherine had given him?"

Your mind blanked for a moment, but you quickly replied to cover it up: "I was trained to deal with the likes of you."

It was partly true, especially after everything went to shit with the apocalypse and whatnot. You were trained, yes, but you had educated yourself about certain disorders which could help you train and read body language better– you were no expert of course, and you weren't police, or a detective; you didn't deal with people like her up close.

"Likes of me?" She rolled her eyes: "Ugh, you and your husband... In any case, I feel like I can be honest with you now, you're smarter than I imagined."

Eugene was right, you thought: "Decided to be honest, finally? When no one else is around? How brave of you."

"The point wasn't bravery," She looked angrier, but her voice was still quiet. "The point was exactly that– No one will hear this confession but you."

You stared into her eyes, confusion and stress taking over a bit more quicker than you liked, you didn't even realise she was inching closer towards you: "I hated Ward. I didn't love him. He was my means of escape and protection for all those years out there, but I was weak– he was abusive, yes. I was smaller than him in physique and had no training to defend myself, so naturally I was inferior. His love, I assume, was true at one point. Mine never was. And yes, I was aware of how we were the black sheep of the community once we had arrived. I figured, if Tommy, Maria– people who were looked up to, like you, liked us, we'd fit in. I did, more than Ward anyway. And yes, I did want Joel for myself, but I knew it wasn't going to be easy. You– you never really liked me, you had to move out of the picture."

Your stance became defensive as you listened: "Move out of the picture?"

"Joel will move on, eventually, and I'll walk him through his grief. For all of this to work out, you had to die. That's why I am being honest, because I am going to kill you."

You thought you were ready to evade her attack, but not mentally. Her words had made your mind go blank: despite being smaller than you in figure, she threw herself at you, grabbed your hair and slammed your head onto the table behind you. Twice.

"Ah!" You growled and grabbed her wrist in a death grip, however she didn't let out as much as a groan (unlike the first time you had tried something like this with her), even though you felt like her bones were going to crush under your palm. You cursed at yourself for letting her get as close to you as she did, giving her an advantage; your vision was getting blurry from the strikes you suffered.

You growled angrily as you turned your body towards hers again, her hands not letting go of your hair. She had gotten stronger over the time she's been trained in Jackson, but you could still have the upper hand. You landed the hardest kick you could on her stomach. Twice.

"You're not even pregnant, are you?!" You spat when you managed to push her off, but as soon as she backed off, she pulled out a knife and lunged at you again. Before the tip of the knife could pierce your throat, you crossed your arms and blocked her attack, the force bending you backwards across the table.

"I never was, yes," She struggled, voice still stable. "Though telling everyone I miscarried because of your little doing didn't really hurt nobo–"

————

"Eugene, what the hell?" Mike, someone in Kiki's group asked as soon as they stepped outside.

The older man didn't reply, sparing an angry look in the younger man's way as he began looking for a window, an opening, anywhere he could keep an eye on you from.

"Whatever, let's hope (Y/N) doesn't kill her too in there," Jennifer, Kiki's neighbour across the street, grumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" Ellie snapped and turned to her. "(Y/N) protected her!"

"I don't think cold blooded murder doesn't really count as protection," She sneered.

"The fuck did you just–" Ellie started walking towards her, but Jesse held her back.

"Ellie calm down," He spoke quietly, then turned to Jessica. "If it weren't for (Y/N), both Kiki and Paul would've died, don't you understand? Ward beat Kiki to her death, then actually tried to—"

"What do you know? You weren't there!" Jessica hissed at him.

"Neither were you," Jesse replied calmly. "(Y/N) isn't a murderer, she's a protector of this town."

"Her history with FEDRA says otherwise," Mike joined in.

"So you're telling me you haven't killed anyone in the past 20 years?" Eugene suddenly walked over to them. "You think you're so innocent in all this, huh? You're as innocent as the rest of us, Mike. We've all done– forced to do some fucked up shit before Jackson, but this what this place's all about; a second chance." He took a few silent deep breaths, before adding: "You don't know what anyone here has gone through before here, so shut your goddamn mouth."

Both Mike and Jennifer fell silent, as well as Jesse and Ellie as the older man death stared Kiki's group. He started walking back to continue looking for an opening too late however– he suddenly heard two loud thuds, followed by a shout, your shout.

"God dammit!" He ran to the door with everyone else behind him and almost kicked down the door when he reached it.

————

"Kiki, what the hell?!" Eugene came in  shouting, the door suddenly opening with a loud crash.

"What's the matter, can't handle me on your own?" She hissed at you, but her grip failed at Eugene's entrance. She had failed, and she knew this too, for her face morphed from ambition and triumph to anger and fear. That was your moment.

You directed her hands to your left with your forearms, the knife suddenly giving in and stabbing into the wooden table: "Oh I can handle you just fine!"

You twisted your arms around hers, grabbed her and push kicked her with all your might, sending her flying down the small set of stairs back near the couch she was sitting on previously. Driven by rage, you pulled the knife out of the table and jumped on her with scary speed. Before she could get up, you reached her and straddled her hips, ready to drive the knife through her throat like she had tried to do to you.

"(Y/N) stop!" Eugene yelled before you could, knife holding hand raised high, the other around her lower neck.

"Tell them, go on!" You suddenly yelled, moving your hand onto her throat. "Confess to them like you did to me."

"Get off me." She spoke calmly.

"Speak!" You yelled and shook her where you had grabbed her by the throat.

"(Y/N)..." Eugene, you realised when he entered your line of sight, was pointing a gun at Kiki's head. He kept his distance, his stance almost professional.

"Get off me," She spoke after awhile of silence. "And I'll tell them what I told you."

For whatever stupid reason, you believed her.

You believed, for a second, that she was actually going to make her confession and try to survive this, somehow. Jackson never took to execution as a form of punishment, so she had higher chances of staying alive that way.

Instead, as soon as you lowered your arm and simultaneously pulled your hand away from her throat, she grabbed you by your shirt's collar.

Everything happened so fast.

You gasped and shouted when you felt her teeth sink into the left side of your throat, dangerously close to the artery. Before she could completely bite off your skin, you embedded the knife in your hand to the side of her neck. Twice.

The tension in your body, the fear and anger you felt– everything came out on her neck. You stabbed her neck reflexively and as soon as she let your neck and shoulders go, you stopped, threw her back on the ground and fell on your back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You grimaced, panting and holding your neck as you backed away from Kiki where you sat. You stopped crawling back when your back hit one of the armchair across the sofa.

The outside voices started to drown out as you pulled your hand away from your neck to see a mix of blood smeared across your hand. Your head hurt so much; the beating of your own heart, the voice ringing in your ear– too much blood–

"(Y/N), christ!" Eugene knelt beside you immediately, followed by Ellie and Jesse. Mike, Jessica and the other person stood, dumbfounded and shocked, as Kiki gave her last breath.

"No, oh god, what did I do?" Tears finally started rolling down your cheeks as you panted, visions of old memories covered in blood flashing under your eyelids making you hyperventilate.

Joel... Where is Joel...

"You protected yourself, (Y/N), it's okay! Breathe!" Eugene ran a hand through his hair, then held you by the shoulders hesitantly.

"(Y/N)," Ellie spoke worriedly: "(Y/N), you're okay– it's okay."

You put your hands on your ears in an attempt to drown out the noises, tried opening your eyes but the images weren't going away: "I can't– can't breathe," You held onto Eugene's arms. "You're– Is she–?"

Your question died on your tongue when he pulled you into a hug, putting your chin on his shoulder, then turned to the side so you didn't see Kiki's now lifeless body: "(Y/N), we need to get you to Katherine, you're bleeding."

"She was trying to stab her?" Katherine.

"Yeah, then she said she was gonna confess something she had confessed to (Y/N), but bit her nearly in the damn artery instead." Eugene.

"And whose bright idea was it to let 'em talk alone?" Tommy.

"Mine," You weakly replied as you slowly opened your eyes.

"Jesus christ, (Y/N)," Tommy sighed, relieved, and sat to your right. You were back in the hospital, where Doctor Katherine, Eugene and Tommy had been waiting for you to wake up.

"We should put my name up outside," You said stiffly, in an attempt to make a joke. "Seems like I won't stop waking up in this room."

Katherine was sat to your left– she put a hand against your forehead, then the back of it: "I got a fever?"

"You had a mild fever while I was operating–"

"Woah, hold on– operating?" You sat up, holding your neck to find it patched up. "Was it that bad?"

"She almost tore out the meat, that crazy–" Eugene spoke, but huffed with frustration halfway.

"I don't wanna rush you," Tommy put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a worried look. "But I need you to tell me what happened."

You and Eugene exchanged a worrisome look: "Just back there, or right from the beginning?"

"Everything," Tommy said after awhile. You gave Katherine a hesitating look, which she didn't notice, but sighed and began telling everything: from the dirty looks you got, to the symbolism of flowers and the night before Ward's death; then how some townspeople were riled up against you, and finally how she confessed to everything and attacked you, ultimately resulting in her death. Tommy went a little pale throughout, especially when you told him of her confession– Same with Eugene. Katherine looked devastated.

"Some folk ain't gonna believe this," Tommy said with an apologetic look on his face.

"Well, fuck 'em– I believe her." Eugene shook his head from where he was leaning against the windowsill. You offered a brief smile.

"I believe you too, but it just sounds too absurd, no offence," Tommy said, scratching his beard. "A damn maniac and his psycho wife... Then this whole– confession?"

You just sighed and looked down, where you had been playing with your fingernails and tips nervously: "To be frank, I don't owe anyone in this town a goddamn thing, except for maybe Katherine here. I'm not gonna try and convince a bunch of people, who have no place in my business, that I'm right or whatever. I did what I had to– and I have you all, so..."

Katherine took your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze: "That you do. We got you (Y/N), you're safe."

You gave them all half a smile, struggling not to cry but you managed to keep your tears to yourself. Tommy smiled, tsked and put his hands on his hips: "Well, now I'm worried about how Joel's goin' to react."

"React to what?" Came a tired voice from the door, the voice of your husband who was supposed to be away at a run.

"Joel?" Tommy's shocked tone mixed with yours, which was laced with both relief and disbelief.

"Tony got injured before we could make it out the county, Earl and I had to bring him back," He said from the door, slowly walking in and taking Katherine's place by your side: "Ran into Daisy, said my lovely wife managed to land herself here again."

He put his hand through your hair and combed it back, giving you a solemn yet soft look, then kissed your forehead and kept his lips pressed there for a few seconds. He then pulled back and gently looked at your neck: "What happened?"

—————

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