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darkjimxn · 1 month

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Chapter 3: Stalker [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, sexual content (not explicit), additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, my motivation has just been so bad because of uni. And now with exams coming up, I can't really promise anything, but after my exams are over I'll definitely be more active!

“God, I want you to absolutely wreck me.”

The bedroom suddenly quieted, its dim lighting beginning to wrap around the walls and furniture of the room to form an uncomfortably suffocating atmosphere. Or maybe Jimin was just projecting his own deteriorating feelings onto the innocent space. He was well aware that his mind shouldn’t have latched onto the words of the innocent woman he currently had pinned to his bed, shouldn’t have started picturing her wishes in his head, yet he couldn’t stop it. He’s never been able to stop it. But that didn’t stop him from trying every time.

The more he envisioned the actions, the more he could feel those familiar ghostly hands crawl up his spine. His mind grasped at something, anything else to focus on.

In his desperation, his unsteady gaze dropped to the girl beneath him. She was the epitome of conventionally attractive, with long, light brown hair sprawled around his mattress and dainty facial features. Modelling agencies would probably die for this girl if she gave them a chance.

But at the moment she was just a distraction. Or at least she had been, until she had opened her mouth.

The logical part of him tried to remind himself that her words were just that: words. She was just a horny girl expressing her preferences. It made sense, considering what they were about to do. And if anything, Jimin appreciated it when women told him what they wanted. It made his life a lot easier.

But those particular wishes churned uneasily in his stomach as he felt the hands continue to travel up his spine, finding a cosy spot on his neck. His heartbeat, which had been racing for an entirely different reason, now thumped painfully in his chest as it quickened in pace.

This can’t be happening right now, he thought with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

Jimin pushed the impending, but familiar, feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on Emily.

That had clearly been a mistake.

“Like, tie me down. Choke me. Use me like a freaking slut. I swear I haven’t been railed in weeks,” she continued while running her fingers through his hair, completely oblivious to Jimin’s deteriorating state.

The feelings he had shoved aside pounded against his poorly constructed dam, fueled by the implications of Emily’s words. He could feel the ghostly hands press harder against his neck, labouring his breathing in the process. It was a telltale sign of the panic that had become so familiar to him. He knew now that there was no escaping this episode, no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm his nerves.

What he needed to do was get out of here.

“Those are a lot of demands to cover in one morning,” he said with a forced chuckle, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt, “give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Before Emily could protest, Jimin slipped off the bed and half stumbled into his bathroom, just barely managing to lock the door.

And just like that, the dam broke.

Jimin collapsed onto the tiled floor, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs as memories started to flood his mind. They flashed before him like a montage, nightmare after nightmare stealing his ability to breath. At first, he was back in his childhood home, watching his father push his mother down a flight of stairs while screaming at her like a madman. Jimin could feel his heart racing in his chest as he wondered if she was dead.

But before he could run to her, his memories moved onto the day his father found out his wife had left. Jimin hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d never see his mother again before his father was on him, shouting at him while his hands enclosed around his neck harder.

Then he was in his old bedroom, watching the bat in his hands crash into his father’s head as he heard a feminine scream. There was blood everywhere, in the room, on his hands. He tried to wipe it off frantically as it burned his skin, but it didn’t matter. The more he wiped off, the more it spread up his arms.

All he could do was sit helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, head between his knees, as he shook uncontrollably and gasped for air. But the air wouldn’t come. It was like the ghostly hands had finally succeeded in crushing his windpipe and he could no longer fill his lungs.

Jimin lurched forward suddenly, feeling his heart hammer painfully in his chest. He swore this time was different.

He swore this time he was going to die.

His hand slapped desperately against the counter before it made contact with smooth metal. Relieved, his fingers wrapped around it, pulling it upwards until he could hear the faint sounds of water rushing out of the faucet. He tried to aim his attention to the sound of the water spewing out of the tap, listening intently to the way it sputtered out of the circular piece of metal. Then he focused on the water splashing against the smooth marble sink, running against it momentarily before it was swallowed up by the drain. He could hear the water crash against the pipes under his sink as they whisked the water away.

It took him what felt like hours to really focus on the sound, letting it sooth him as much as it could. Jimin imagined his memories and panic seeping down the drain alongside it, the black plastic pipes guiding them far away from himself and his house. His breathing started getting a little easier with every passing moment as the memories of his father began to seep back into the locked portion of his mind.

With small pockets of air now able to enter his lungs, Jimin managed to bring his hand down to the floor. He dragged two of his fingers against it in circles, focusing on the cold of the tile seeping into his fingertips and the rough line of grout between them. He inhaled as his finger met one half of the circle, stalling there for a moment, before exhaling as he completed the round.

When Jimin finally felt himself calm, only the remnants of a few mild tremors left, he let his back drop against the glass side of his walk-in shower with a sigh. A lingering soreness was spreading throughout his chest as he felt his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his back. Although he was more than familiar with episodes like these, he couldn’t help but wonder why this one had been so particularly bad.

Either way, the “attack” had left him exhausted, to the point that Jimin almost considered skipping school today. It was especially tempting, considering how much Taehyung had been bothering him recently about the therapy and whether it was working. Jimin had to remind him that he had only gone to one session, though he didn’t mention just how much he had hated it.

But Jimin knew that there were a few concepts he needed to clarify in his first class, so ditching school was out of the question.

Not to mention, Jimin’s second period had gotten a lot more interesting when the school had decided to transfer him to a different class because of a few scheduling issues. Particularly your presence had intrigued him, because he was so confused as to how he’d never noticed you before. Sure, Jimin had only been attending this school for the past two years, but he still found it hard to believe that the two of you had never crossed paths. He’d have definitely remembered if that were the case. You were, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever met, there was no way he would have overlooked a face like that.

Jimin stretched forward, just barely managing to close the faucet without having to get up from his position on the floor. You were fun to tease, and definitely something during sex. Jimin didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex as much as he had with you.

His gaze dropped as he remembered the bottle that had been clutched in your hand that night at Taehyung’s house. It had been a shock to him that you were using, even though technically he was well aware he didn’t know you at all. He wondered if your addiction stopped at Adderall, or did you do more than just that? He hoped you didn’t, for your sake.

Jimin had wanted to say something about it when he had dropped you off, encourage you to choose a different path for yourself. But he couldn’t seem to find the right words. He had used them all up when his father was still alive, none of which were successful of course. So instead he had walked away, guilt nibbling away at him with every step.

“Jimin?”

Jimin’s head snapped towards the door as Emily’s muffled voice passed through it. He had practically forgotten that she was still there, too wrapped up in his panic and then his thoughts to remember that she’d probably been waiting for him to come back to his bed. He knew he couldn’t do it. She clearly wanted things that he just couldn’t give her. The prospect of having to explain some lousy excuse to her suddenly made him exhausted all over again.

But thankfully Emily spoke up again before he could reply, “look, my first class starts soon and I can’t miss it. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone before he listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked out of his bedroom, followed by the sound of his front door shutting quickly. When he was sure she was gone, he stood from his spot and made his way to his bedroom, picking up his phone to confirm the time. Emily wasn’t wrong, his first class was starting soon. He would have to get going as well.

Jimin walked back to his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above the sink. His gaze scanned the damp, rust-coloured hair sticking to his forehead, and then the beads of sweat travelling down his neck. He grimaced. First, he needed a shower.

Jiwoo was in a mood.

You had begun to suspect as much at the end of your first class, when she had kicked your bag while stomping out of the classroom. Although Jiwoo was always pulling stunts like that, she’d usually accompany it with an irritating taunt or mocking expression. But it wasn’t until right before second period, when she had purposely bumped into the open pencil case on your desk to scatter it all over the floor, when you became certain.

Jiwoo was in a mood.

You watched her drop into her seat near the front of the class with an angry huff, uncharacteristically not even bothering to spare you a fake “oops.” Normal Jiwoo was far from a saint, but god did annoyed Jiwoo unlock a different type of rage in you. Her irritation made you wonder how her parents’ divorce was going. Probably not great, if her mood today was anything to go on.

With an annoyed sigh, you slipped off your chair and lowered yourself to the floor to focus on collecting your things, trying to calm your raging heartbeat and shaking hands in the process. You weren’t sure whether it was because of Jiwoo or the Ritalin. This was your third day on Ritalin even though you had vowed to never take the stuff again. You didn’t really have much of a choice. There was still no news on Yoongi, which meant you were still out of Adderall. And although Ritalin made you crazy with nerves, it still somehow managed to help you focus on your schoolwork. Not to mention you’d much rather be a jittery mess than the dead zombie that your Adderall crash had reduced you to.

Unfortunately, until you could get your hands on some Adderall, Ritalin was your only option.

You shoved the last of your supplies into your pencil case, brows furrowing when you noticed that you were missing your eraser. But one scan of the floor showed no sign of the white rubber.

You checked under your desk and then your chair, wondering where it could have disappeared to.

It wasn’t until a pair of black dress shoes and grey dress pants appeared in your line of sight when you realised where your eraser had gone.

“Looking for something?” Jimin asked in a teasing tone, holding out your white eraser between the tips of his index and middle fingers.

Your gaze reluctantly travelled up to his smug face, the feeling of annoyance a natural response to his presence at this point.

“Stealing my car wasn’t enough? Now you want my eraser too?”

Jimin’s head tilted for a moment before he rested a hand on your desk and leaned forward so that his next words could only be heard by you.

“Why would I want anything more when I’ve already got you on your knees for me, kitten?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the tempting view of his sharp jawline, before grabbing your pencil case and pushing yourself off of the ground. Leave it to Jimin to turn every instance into an opportunity to flirt.

“Weren’t you the one that said I had to ask for sex the next time I wanted it? What happened to that?” You asked with a low voice before taking back your eraser.

“I never said I couldn’t be tempting.”

Then, to your surprise, Jimin dropped into the empty desk beside yours instead of his usual seat behind you. It took you a second to register the sudden change, and then another to eye him weirdly.

But before you could ask him what he was doing, Mr. Kim walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. The students rushed to their seats to bring out their textbooks, some of the girls swooning over the alleged new shirt he was wearing. You took your seat quickly, sending Jimin a glare in the process.

Taehyung hurried into the room just after Mr. Kim, slipping unnoticeably past him before dropping into his usual seat. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment when he noticed Jimin wasn’t sitting next to him, and then they furrowed even further when he realised where he was actually sitting.

“Come on man, what happened to bros before hoes?” He muttered under his breath. You almost laughed at his sulky expression.

Mr. Kim began writing the lesson on the whiteboard, “please turn to page 245.”

You turned to the page alongside the rest of the class as Jimin did the same, distantly noticing your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously.

Mr. Kim turned back to the class, beginning the lesson by explaining the concepts on the page he had instructed everyone to turn to. He was one of the better teachers, so you were easily able to understand the seemingly complex concepts.

That was until Jimin started annoying you, just like he had been doing in class for the past few days. It was always small things, like sneakily drawing random doodles in your notebook when you weren’t looking or stealing your pencil every so often. It took everything in you not to throw your eraser at his face. Instead, you dragged your notebook and supplies to the other side of your desk with a huff.

That just made him laugh, one he had to muffle with his hands so Mr. Kim didn’t call him out.

The class went on like this, a mixture of evading Jimin’s antics while simultaneously trying to understand the lesson being taught by Mr. Kim. You honestly had to applaud the guy for being able to escape Mr. Kim’s gaze for so long. He was notoriously known for being an observant teacher, and because of that you were sure he knew a lot more student secrets than he let on.

However, Jimin’s antics had to come to an abrupt end when Mr. Kim placed his whiteboard marker down and faced the class, seemingly finished with teaching the lesson. He called up two students, handing them both stacks of papers to hand out to the rest of the class.

“Your next assignment will consist of a presentation closely resembling a seminar, where each group will be expected to accurately teach the class on an assigned topic,” he explained, characteristically professional and thoughtful with his words, “since the goal of this assignment will be to facilitate understanding, I will be expecting the incorporation of some creative elements in order to keep the presentation engaging in addition to being informative.”

One of the students that had been handing out the mini booklets finally reached you and Jimin, handing the two of you one each before moving onto Taehyung.

“The booklets in front of you go over the details pertaining to this assignment. Therefore, I expect you all to read through them thoroughly to avoid losing marks over small mistakes.”

Mr. Kim suddenly smiled, “although, with this being your senior year I doubt you all require such a reminder anyway.”

You watched Jiwoo’s hand shoot into the air as you tried to keep Jimin’s hands off your booklet. Mr. Kim nodded towards her before she spoke, “will we get to choose our own groups?”

“No, I will be assigning the groups, as well as the topics,” he replied, earning him a number of whines and groans. But Mr. Kim merely chuckled, amused, but not willing to change his mind.

He then turned to the first row of students, grouping them in pairs based on their seating. You groaned inwardly when you realised the pattern he was going by and who, in that case, would end up being your partner.

“Jimin and Y/N,” Mr. Kim grouped, but then paused when he noticed Taehyung sitting without the deskmate, “and Taehyung.”

“Mr. Kim,” Jiwoo said once again, but this time you rolled your eyes knowing what she was going to bring up, “isn’t it unfair that one group has three students? That will lessen their workload compared to everyone else!”

You noticed Jiwoo send you a mocking smile for a moment, clearly trying to incite you.

Witch.

“You may rest assured, Ms. Kim. I will ensure everything is as fair as possible,” he reassured with a small smile. But Jiwoo just slid down in her seat, annoyed that her plan to make your life harder had pretty much failed.

You wished she turned around so you could send her your fakest smile. On one hand was Jiwoo, the most annoying witch in existence, and then on another hand was Jimin, the most annoying jerk in existence.

What has your life come to?

When the bell finally rang and Mr. Kim dismissed the class, you crumpled one of your rough pieces of paper and threw it at Jimin’s face with a glare.

It wasn’t much, but boy did it make you feel better.

“What was that for?” He asked, failing miserably at stifling a laugh.

“You know what.”

Ignoring Jimin’s amused glance, you packed your bag as your classmates began to chat with each other and started making their way to the cafeteria. You wouldn’t be heading there, though, since you usually spent your breaks in the library studying. It just felt better to get all your work out of the way so you could go home and just sleep for hours.

You walked out of the classroom, thankful that you could finally get away from the annoying thing known as Park Jimin, and then began walking to the library. The hallways were full of students relaxing and playing around with each other, making you think of Namjoon. He was away on some trip for a maths competition. Or maybe it was for a science competition? Either way, he was off doing his nerd stuff, so you couldn’t invite him to hang out after you finished studying.

You made it to the library’s front desk, sending a smile to the main librarian who returned it sweetly.

“Hello, have the study room schedules been made yet?” You asked.

She answered your question with a nod and, after giving her your name, she began searching the computer for your schedule.

Since the demand for the very limited number of study rooms in the library was so high, the school had decided to come up with a schedule system for the students that wished to use them, because a first come, first serve approach would be much too “barbaric” for a private school of course. Each student was given a schedule for which study room they were assigned to and when they could use it.

“Hi, can I get my study schedule please?” A voice asked, “my name is Park Jimin.”

Your gaze snapped to your side, finding Jimin standing right next to you.

Seriously?

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me now?” You asked, causing Jimin to turn to you with a surprised expression.

When his gaze fell on you, he grinned.

“How come I’m the stalker? You could very well be the one stalking me,” he said.

Before you could reply, the librarian walked back to her desk and handed you and Jimin your printed schedules. The two of you thanked her before walking over to the library’s elevator while looking them over.

Thankfully, you were scheduled for a study room on Wednesdays during break, so you didn’t have to find somewhere else to study at the moment.

You eyed Jimin when he followed you into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button to the floor you were also going to. The two of you seemed to be finding yourselves in each other’s presence a lot lately. It made you groan inwardly, knowing that the semester had only just begun.

It was like having a second Jiwoo since you and her were usually thrown together a lot due to your familial ties, but at least Jimin didn’t kick your bag or slap your pencil case to the ground. That earned him at least a few more points in your book.

The book’s name? “The Most Annoying People in Kim Y/N’s Life,” of course.

The elevator door dinged as it revealed the hallway of the second floor. Jimin walked out of it first, unfortunately taking a right into the hallway, which was the same way you were going.

You followed him reluctantly.

“Who’s following who now, kitten?” He said with a smirk, an eyebrow raised at you.

You simply huffed, “shut up.”

You didn’t bother to come up with a better comeback. All you had to do was make it to your study room, then you could finally get rid of him. This day had been filled with way too much Jimin, and you were actually looking forward to doing homework in a nice and quiet room over having to deal with his annoying butt.

Jimin continued through the hallway until he stopped in front of the door to the farthest study room from the elevator. The action made your eyes widen.

“No,” you denied immediately, stomping over to him before grabbing his schedule from his hand, “no way. There’s no way.”

Your mouth fell open as you took in his schedule, almost exactly identical to your own. The only day in which your and Jimin’s schedules didn’t align was Monday. Only one out of the five days of school in a week would you be free of him. No way. There was no way this was possible. Of all the insane things…

While you were distracted, a confused Jimin took your own schedule from your hands, looking over it curiously. It only took him a second to figure out what your issue was, but when he did, he couldn’t help himself.

Jimin burst into a fit of laughter.

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny,” you whined, smacking the paper against his head. That only made him laugh harder as he fell to the floor with a hand clutching his stomach.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” Jimin managed through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes, choosing instead to walk past him into the room. Fine, if you were going to be stuck with him, then you were just going to have to ignore his presence completely. It was the only ray of hope in your seemingly continuous misery.

You dropped into a seat at the large table, spreading your work out as you opened your laptop and began typing furiously against the innocent keys.

After a few minutes Jimin walked into the room, closing it behind him before he thankfully dropped into a chair away from yours and brought out his own work. You risked a glance upwards, catching a smirk on his lips that made your blood boil.

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen after that.

You expected him to annoy you the same way he had during your second period class by stealing your pencils or throwing a paper plane at you, but instead he remained focused on his work for a full half an hour straight. That came as a surprise to you because you honestly hadn’t been expecting him to be very studious. Maybe it was because he had annoyed you during class. Or maybe it was because you had unintentionally believed in the stereotype against guys that slept around. Either way, it was surprising when you managed to get through half an hour worth of work without any disturbances.

After half an hour, though, Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms behind him. He’d taken off his blazer, so you could see the defined lines of his muscles stretch under his dress shirt. Your straying gaze quickly shot back to your screen, but not before Jimin had noticed your curious eyes. He smirked.

You were able to work for a few more minutes before Jimin suddenly leaned forward, eyeing you curiously.

“So,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him questionably, “how did your dad end up reacting?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”

“After the party, when you came home after midnight. I’m surprised he wasn’t already standing on the porch with a shotgun ready.”

You snorted, unable to imagine your dad doing that, “my dad’s not like that.”

“Oh, so he was cool with it and everything?” He asked.

You shifted in your seat, “no… I mean, I don’t know. He wasn’t home that night.”

Jimin nodded, “business trip?”

“Kind of. He’s a truck driver,” you explained, a little weirded out by the suddenly normal conversation but still appreciating the unexpected break from your work, “he’s usually only home on weekends. Otherwise he’s out driving across the country.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “so he leaves you alone during the entire week? And sometimes he doesn’t even come back on the weekends?”

You shrugged, finding it odd how surprised Jimin looked, “yeah? I’m not a kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. But you noticed a slight scowl in his features.

Weird.

You shifted to face Jimin, a question coming to mind, “but why are you only asking about my dad?”

Jimin didn’t look up from the table, “I heard what that girl said about your mom last Friday… I just kind of assumed…”

The room quieted into what felt like an awkward silence. You had the feeling that something you said had cut the surprisingly normal conversation short, but there was nothing you said that could have offended him so you didn’t really understand why that was.

You turned back to your work, brushing against the touchpad to light up your laptop’s screen once again. After sending one final curious glance at Jimin, you went back to your work.

But Jimin was clearly lost in thought.

The first thing Jimin noticed when he walked into the room was Lauren, who was sitting on one of the beige sofas situated next to the glass coffee table. She had been looking down at the binder she had shown him in their last session, reading over something intently before the sound of the door opening had her looking upwards and then smiling.

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted, to which he gave her a curt nod.

Thankfully, Lauren had already situated herself on the sofa facing away from the door, allowing Jimin to sit on the one that gave him a view of both the entrance and the window at the same time. Even in his sour mood, he was able to appreciate the gesture.

He knew Lauren was studying him, taking in his sudden attitude, but to his surprise she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closed the binder and placed it beside her on the sofa, bringing a much thinner notebook onto her lap in its place.

“Did you complete the Impact Statement worksheet I assigned in the last session?” She asked, to which Jimin nodded.

He had avoided starting it until the last minute, something he knew Lauren wouldn’t approve of considering she had given him that big speech about avoidance and how it wasn’t helping him. He just couldn’t help it, he’d spent years trying to rid his mind of that night’s memories. Anything that reminded him of it was discarded, any person that reminded him of it was avoided. Even the house had been sold the second it was passed down to him. So doing this Impact Statement? Something that would not only remind him about it, but make him think about it to a deeper extent… it had been hard.

“Could you read your Impact Statement out loud?”

Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together at the random request, confused as to why that was necessary. He wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, where they would make his class take turns reading various children’s books to each other.

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But he couldn’t make a fuss about it. He needed to give this therapy thing a genuine try, especially considering the enormous attack he had this morning.

Jimin brought out the statement from his school bag, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat before finally following along the hastily written words.

“This traumatic experience happened because I was stupid and did something horrible. I knew that my father wasn’t himself, I knew that he was under the influence, and yet I still ended up murdering him, my own father, like some kind of psychopath. Saying that that makes me a horrible person feels like an understatement, because being a killer is one thing, but being able to kill your family? That must make me even worse than a murderer. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good because of it. If anything, the world should bring me my karma and just end it already. I think that sometimes… that because of what I did, someone is just silently watching me and waiting for the right moment to get back at me. I feel like I’m never safe, like I constantly have to be on guard whenever I’m out. I feel like people should think the same about me too, they shouldn’t trust me either. My past is evidence enough that I might just lose it and hurt someone. I would hate to do that to Taehyung especially, the only person that’s genuinely been there for me. But anyways, the gist of it is that I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I feel unsafe all the time, especially when I’m around other men. Sometimes when I’m out I can imagine every grown man that looks my way hates me the same way my dad did, and that they’d go after me the first chance they got. I don’t want to get close to people because I feel like if I build any kind of genuine relationship, I’ll end up hurting them. That’s why I don’t think Taehyung should have a friend like me, that he deserves better. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”

The room fell quiet as Jimin set the paper down on the coffee table, wanting it away from him immediately. He was relieved that he was finally done with this assignment, though he hadn’t noticed how much he had ended up writing despite the limited amount of time he had to complete the worksheet.

“What did it feel like to write and then read the Impact Statement aloud?” Lauren asked, an expression of complete neutrality. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that she wasn’t disgusted by him.

Or at least she wasn’t showing it.

“It was hard,” Jimin admitted, gaze travelling everywhere but her, “honestly I didn’t start the worksheet until just an hour before I came here.”

Lauren surprisingly nodded, “the good thing is that you completed it nonetheless. It is difficult work, Jimin, and you were able to get through it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“But I should remind you that avoidance only helps in maintaining PTSD symptoms, right?”

Jimin nodded.

“How do you feel after reading the Impact Statement?” She asked.

“A little less anxious,” Jimin replied, though it was more the fact that he was relieved it was over than anything else. Whether his improved feelings were because the Impact Statement had actually helped or because of the relief he felt from it being over, there was no doubt that he felt better now compared to the anxiety he had been feeling when walking into this room.

“If doing the assignment in this way made you a little less anxious, then I wonder what it would have been like to have completed the assignment earlier in the week?” Lauren wondered out loud, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. She was clearly keen on changing the topic.

“Now, earlier it seemed that you might have been upset about something. Could you explain to me why that was?”

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. But he could feel his blood begin to boil once again, his thoughts from earlier apparently the flame. His anger simmered to the surface and, before he knew it, he was blurting everything out.

“It’s just… I was talking to this classmate of mine earlier today, just a normal conversation, and she told me something about her dad that kind of pissed me off.”

Lauren tilted her head, “can you tell me what she told you that made you so angry?”

Your words from earlier filled his mind once again, bringing the anger along with them. He had been furious throughout the rest of the school day, and all throughout the ride here, with your words and their implications repeating over and over in his head.

Jimin suddenly stood up and walked over to the window, his anger making him want to move around.

“The thing is, she’s actually this girl I hooked up with at a party last Friday,” he started to explain, not realising that he had begun pacing around, “I’d ended up taking her home that night because she didn’t really seem like she could get there on her own, so I just casually asked her about how her dad had reacted to her getting home so late. She started telling me about how her dad hadn’t been home that night because he’s a truck driver. In fact, she said that he usually wasn’t home at all throughout the week, and sometimes he didn’t even come back on the weekends that he’s supposed to.”

Jimin spun around towards Lauren, who had shifted so that she was still facing him, “can you believe that? What kind of father would leave their kid alone for weeks at a time? And does he even know what his own daughter has been doing in his absence? She uses, you know. I bet he has no clue.”

“But of course he doesn’t,” Jimin scoffed, “just one of the millions of examples of a grown man being absolutely useless and incompetent as a father.”

He turned to look outside once again, trying to focus on anything that could calm down his racing heart.

“Do you feel that way about your own father?” He heard Lauren ask from behind him.

“Obviously. He beat my mom, and then he beat me. That didn’t exactly make him father slash husband of the year. Nothing could justify his actions,” Jimin reasoned.

“Do you feel that your actions that night also can’t be justified?”

He paused, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, Jimin faced Lauren once again, “well yes, I’m not different from him. If anything I’m worse. He beat people. I murdered him.”

Lauren’s gaze bored into him in an almost unnerving way before she spoke, “‘murder.’ That’s a strong word.”

“It’s appropriate in this context.”

“From what you’ve told me, it seems like you killed your father after he had begun to hurt your girlfriend-”

“Ex,” Jimin said, his gaze not meeting hers, “ex girlfriend.”

“Ex girlfriend,” Lauren corrected, “your actions occurred in a very specific place and time, and under certain circumstances.”

“Yeah, but he still died. And I’m the one that killed him.”

“Yes, he died, and it seems, at least in part, because of your actions. Does that make you a murderer?”

“Yes,” Jimin answered straight away, not comprehending what was so hard to understand, “I took a bat to his head, and then he died. That’s murder. And that’s worse than anything he had ever done to me.”

“Really? You think it’s worse?” Lauren asked, her voice suddenly quieter. For the first time since these sessions started, Jimin thought he might have caught a little sadness in her expression. But the moment he caught it the expression disappeared, tucked back under that blanket of neutrality that he had become so used to. Distantly, he wondered if he had imagined it or not.

“On one hand, people were hurt. On the other hand, someone was killed. Obviously both situations aren’t good since people were hurt either way. But I killed him, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“It is true that the outcomes are different,” Lauren agreed, “but it’s the context that I wonder about.”

Jimin’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“Do you think what the intention was in those situations matters, regardless of the outcome?”

“No,” Jimin replied firmly, pulling back on the frustration in his tone,“in one case someone was killed. In another, no one was killed.”

Lauren paused for a moment, seemingly studying him with her characteristically neutral expression. When nothing was said for a few seconds, she clasped her fingers together before resting them over her lap professionally, “while it is true that your father died, and that your actions played a role in it, I think we might slightly disagree on the definition of the term ‘murder.’ It is apparent that his death has been a very difficult thing for you to accept, and that you are trying to make sense of that. From what you’ve told me, the sense that you appear to have made of his death is that you are a ‘murderer.’ I believe this is a good example of one of the stuck points that seem to have prevented you from recovering from this traumatic event. We’ll definitely be spending more time together on understanding your part in his death.”

Lauren then began to explain something about how important it was to be able to identify and label his emotions and thoughts, but Jimin’s thoughts were too stuck on her earlier words to pay any attention. He wondered about how intentions might or might not matter in the context of whether a death is considered a murder or not. When a person participates in an action that ends up with another person dead, he was pretty sure that classified the situation as a murder. He couldn’t really understand where the nuances existed in a situation like this.

But then again, Lauren’s suggestion hadn’t been too crazy of a thought either. If a person didn’t intend to kill the other, then would it still be considered a murder?

Had he intended to kill his father that night? Jimin wanted to say no and deny such a thing, because he really hadn’t wanted to do that. But he had taken a wooden baseball bat straight to his father’s skull, what other outcome had Jimin been expecting? Maybe intention did matter in general, but in Jimin’s case he concluded it made no difference.

“How do you feel about the death of your father?” Lauren asked randomly, catching Jimin’s straying attention. He had no clue what the context behind the question was since his thoughts had been elsewhere while she had been explaining it, which had caught him off guard.

“Um,” Jimin paused, having to think about it for a moment, “I know he did horrible things to me, like I’m aware his actions were wrong, but… a part of me felt a little saddened by his death. Maybe not because of losing him as a person, but losing him meant that I had lost the last of my family. It does make me feel sad when I think about it.”

Lauren nodded encouragingly, “and that is a completely natural reaction to have when you feel that you’ve lost something. It’s good to feel that sadness and let it run its course.”

Jimin let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, though there was no humour behind it, “feeling sad isn’t exactly something I enjoy- actually I prefer to avoid feeling anything at all. It’s just easier that way.”

Lauren crossed her leg over the other, continuing to focus on Jimin as she brought her clasped hand over her lap once again, “have you ever allowed yourself to feel sad?”

He shook his head, explaining that he’s always preferred avoiding anything and everything that had to do with intense feelings like that. Even the frustration he had shown earlier was a generally rare occurrence.

“Then if you’ve never allowed yourself to feel your emotions, how do you know that it would be easier not to feel them?”

Jimin was silent, processing the logic behind her words once again. He was starting to realise that therapy was a lot more logical than what he had initially thought.

“From what you’ve told me, avoiding your feelings hasn’t helped you very much so far. Maybe allowing yourself to feel the natural feelings associated with the traumatic event may help you recover from what happened?”

“Maybe…” He relented, knowing that her reasoning made sense to him.

But Jimin still couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of feeling his emotions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever truly felt them before. With a father that had been beating him for as long as he could remember, it really had just become easier to numb himself to the pain. He was scared of revisiting that pain, he realised. The pain that he’d been trying to run away from his whole life.

Lauren opened her binder to bring out a few sheets that were similar to the Impact Statement worksheet she had given him in their last session, except they clearly had a different purpose. She called them “A-B-C” Sheets, which again reminded Jimin of kindergarten, and explained how to go about completing them properly. She also explained how they were meant to help him begin to identify the things he was telling himself and his subsequent emotions before they had exchanged pleasantries and Jimin had walked out of the room.

Unlike the last session, where he had rushed through the door at light speed, Jimin took his time walking through the hallways and out of the building. This time his mind was filled with questions of murder and intention. He thought about feeling his feelings, and how long it had been since he had lost the ability to do so. He thought about you and your dad. He thought about everything.

There was just so much to think about.

So much to think about indeed.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hello ! I would like to request a half angst half fluff fic for Daemon x Stark!Reader.

Reader is quite a tenacious woman and good with her words, the only daughter of her father. She managed to get her father to let her learn how to fight and she's a great warrior. She even commanded part of his army and was successful in the battle. She is very respected in Winterfell. Even warriors look up to her. She's a fiery spirit and very loyal. She was promised by her father that she could marry whomever she wanted but she actually had no interest in marriage.

But her father will get a very interesting proposal to marry her to Daemon, something that Viserys arranged. Of course Daemon is pissed too. He doesn't want to get married to an unknown woman.

Her whole family will travel to the palace but nothing was yet said to her about the plans being made. Her family will break it to her after arriving just before she will be thrown in a room with Daemon for them to know each other. She and Daemon hate each other at first glance. And I was imaging Daemon calling her wife and she would yell at him something along the lines "I will not be your palace bitch, you manwhore." . Still they get married but they don't actually consumate their marriage that night.

They will spend time apart, not even staying in the same room for a while until Daemon catch her one day at the dragonpit. She will be there interacting with Caraxes. Or maybe him trying to but her not knowing how to approach him properly. Daemon could help her and that's when they begin to grow on each other. they start training together and slowly fall in love and they confess it to one another a while later.

Thank you !

A/n: I might make this into a two parter. 🦦

As the only daughter of your Lord father, Sylvain Stark, your upbringing was primarily done by the men in your life; Which meant being frequently roughhoused by your brothers, sneaking away from your etiquette classes to watch the knights train under your fathers ruthless but fair tutelage within the courtyard. Your mother, much to your surprise, encouraged this behaviour of yours by dressing you in your brothers out grown clothing, disgusting you as a boy and setting you on your way to train with your brothers; Who refused to go easy on you based on the pretence that you were a girl and their sister. Though that didn’t meant that they weren’t protective over you because they were and so much more.

So whenever a boy failed to respect your request to be left alone or impose his thoughts on how girls like you weren’t meant to pick up a sword, irritating them in the process but before any of your brothers could life a finger, you had gifted the boy with a bloodied nose and a cut running across his cheek from your nails. You were punished but it didn’t felt like one, considering the fact that your father had been spent most of it lecturing you on how to throw a proper punch and praising you for developing a backbone. It wasn’t until then that you expressed to him your interest in swordsmanship to which he had laughed off but once he saw the fires being stoked within your eyes, reminding him of himself at your age, demanding his own father to teach him how to fight after being scuffed up in a fight with a boy twice his height.

“You truly are my child, aren’t you.” He says, ruffling your hair, eyes flickering in amusement as you shoved his hand away with a pout and mused hair. “Tomorrow we start your training.” You remember cheering that day, hugging your Lord father by the waist only to be confused when he held at arms length, “I’m warning you now y/n, becoming a knight is not something that should be taken lightly. I’ll be putting you through your paces. Within this room your are my daughter but out there,” your father gestures to the courtyard where two knights were sparing with wooden swords, “you are one of them. No special treatment shall be given during this time, am I understood?” “Understood fa-Lord Stark.” Sylvain smiled at your with pride as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally bringing you in for a hug. “Get some sleep dear child for I’ll need you to be up and early for training tomorrow. So no sneaking off to the kitchen for late night snacks.” You groaned at the thought of sacrificing your favourite activity to get what you wished but in the end it was a fair trade.

It didn’t take long for you to prove your worth as one of the best swordsman to have ever picked up a sword in Westeros. Your father’s vigorous training have shaped and melded you into the knight you were known as today. Your body held it’s fair share of scars, providing more then enough evidence to even the most sceptic of sceptics that you weren’t one to be taken lightly without reaping the repercussions. Even though you quickly became a household name within your home of Winterfell, it hadn’t become well known enough to the other houses of Westeros only until it was in conjunction with some of your earliest escapades as commander of one of your father’s men; Which included some of your brothers in attendance.

There were some knights within your squadron who believed you to be too weak for such a position, some even went as far as to petition themselves as commander instead but your father would only scoff and say, “A real man wouldn’t feel the need to take opportunities away from others, unless they were scared. So tell me lads, if you believe yourself to be as tough as you say, why don’t you let my daughter test that theory out herself?” Needless to say those knights became dutifully compliant to your every command after having the lesson vigorously beaten into them by your own hand. Those who were unsure or uncertain of your leadership held their tongues within your presence, soon enough their views on you changed after being lead to countless victories under your command against all those that opposed House Stark.

So much so that you have heard yourself and your squadron being referred to as ‘The Iron Wolf’ and ‘The Wolf pack’ in passing when you and your squadron road through the courtyard, armours soaked in the blood of your most recent conquest, the excess staining the snow in an unsettling shade of crimson whilst the disembodied head of the lousy Lord who dared to pick a fight dangled from your hip like a spoil of war. Men, women and children gathered to greet you back with their deafening cheers that filled the air. So much to the point that you could barely hear the voice of the servant, who came to stand by your side as you handed the reigns of your horse over to the stable boy. “Your father would like a word with you in the grand hall, Princess.” You could tell from the tone of his voice that it was immediate that your presence was needed and with a curt thanks you rushed through the castle, helmet in hand, until you were in the grand hall where your father was sat at the head of the table.

“You called for me father.”

“I did indeed child, I take it that the battle was a successes?” Sylvain questioned as his eyes looked at the bleeding head at your hip with pride. You smirked, reaching to unclip the head from your belt before presenting it on the table before him. “You said that you wished for his head, so his head I have brought you.” You replied. Sylvain only chuckled as he lifted himself from his chair, moving to bring you into his arms, uncaring of the blood getting on his clothes; He was just happy to have his child back home safe and sound like any parent. “Is there a reason for my presence here today?” You asked when you pulled away from his embrace, your smile fading from your lips when you saw the somber look upon his face. “Dad?” Your father sighs heavily, “I received a raven this morning, from King Viserys. He wishes for my presence at KingsLanding at once.”

You instinctively reached out to grasp at your father’s arms like a lost child, gripping them tightly as your displeasure with being departed from your father became all the more evident. “Whatever for? We do our duties here in Winterfell and he and his family does theirs in KingsLanding? Why the sudden urgency? It’s not out of the realm of possibility to suspect something has arisen.” Your father didn’t have the heart to tell you the truth, so instead he choose to lie but had he tell you the truth, he knew you’d outright refuse. Ever since you grew to a certain age where marriage was put into question, Sylvain decided that instead of forcefully searching you a suitor, he would let you yourself choose on your own accord. However your disposition to get married had placed him into a corner he felt he couldn’t get out of before your eligibility comes to pass.

So when he received word that King Viserys was offering up his brother, Daemon, for your hand in marriage; It felt as though the gods had decided to spare him the fate of an impending headache that would surely come from the small council’s demands of your arrangement. “Give your mind a rest dear daughter,” Sylvain chuckled, his hands cusping your elbows reassuringly, “I wouldn’t want you to take up arms and storm KingsLanding on the pretence of a misunderstanding. I’m certain it’s primarily down to boring political business.” You snorted at your fathers disinterest for political disputes despite his position as Warden of the North, causing a smile to spread across his lips. “The upside to this however is that I’m granted the due diligence of bringing along my beloved family.” You smiled softly at your fathers words, resting your head comfortably against his chest like you did as a child. “Oh and your invited too.”

“Oi!” you exclaimed, pulling yourself away in order to slap him on the arm for his cheeky comment that only made your father laugh at your reaction. “You think yourself so fucking funny for that, don’t you?” You rhetorically asked him as he made a face as though he were in genuine thought, “I’m believed to be quite hilarious, according to some people.” Your father responded in kind. Though before you could make another jest, your worried mother -who had heard joyous news of your return but had yet to see you with her own eyes- walked into the hall upon hearing her husband and your laughter echo off the stone walls from just outside. Her eyes widened upon seeing you, picking up her skirts in her hands as she rushed to your side before letting them drop so she could cusp your face in her hands. Your eyes closed upon instinct at the touch of your mother, sighing deeply at the one thing you’ve missed the most since your time away from Winterfell. A strong warrior you maybe but even the strongest of warriors fall on their knees at the gentle touch of a mother.

“Hello mother.” You said wistfully, bringing your own hands away from your father to support your mothers arms. Practically purring in content when her thumbs brushed across freshly healed scars that ran across your cheeks like jagged bolts of lighting. “My sweet brave child, you had me worried sick when you didn’t visit me upon return!” Your mother exclaims but calms down when she saw that other then the occasional scar, you were without major injured. “Then again I shouldn’t be surprised that it is your father who gets to see you first.” You knew deep down your mother wished she was more hands on with your growth, after all you were the only daughter she bore out of a cluster of boys. Your mother thought that due to being the only women in the family, you’d be as thick as thieves; Unfortunately for her, you had more of an affiliation with anything that constitutes to boys. She tried her best to have common ground with you though it never lasted long, especially when your vigorous training sessions with your father left your tired and unable to withhold conversations.

You didn’t blame her, you couldn’t blame her for wanting something that was just for you and her. She was your biggest supporter in whatever it is you did, the pride in her eyes was the soul reason why you kept fighting the tougher fights, just so you could come home to her appraisals and motherly comfort. “I apologise, the adrenaline of our victory must’ve carried me away from you. I’ll be sure to make up for it in the meantime.” Your words must’ve brought her some comfort as she smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your forehand. “You best do child, now I’m certain your father has told you of the contents in the King’s letter, why don’t you run along to your chambers to pack your things before we are due to set off.” She says as she ushers you out of the hall before looking back at her husband who’s attention was brought back to the letter. “You haven’t told her have you?” She asks, walking up to his side. “No,” he said, “she’d refuse before i could even make it to the proposal.” Your mother sighs, picking up the parchment, being mindful of the bleeding head she knew of to be your work, reading and re-reading the inked words scratched into the letter.

“She’s held this off for far too long. Brandon, Richard, Edward and Sylvester would’ve already been married to their betrothals by the time she chooses a suitor.” Your mother commented as your father slumps back into his chair, his face covered by his hands as he ran them down his face. “Which is why I took the liberty to accept on her behalf.” Your mother looked at him with wide but confused eyes, “but you said-“ “that she could choose? Yes I did but you know as well as I that girl detests marriage, never less political ones.” Your father cut her off, knowing very well how her mind works in certain situations. “Y/n would rather lop off her own arm if it meant getting out of an arrangement. She must one day understand that I made this decision for her.” Your mother knew how much your father loved you, she knew that he didn’t wish for you to be a lone wolf for the rest of your life. He merely wishes for you to be happy and he could only pray to the Seven that this marriage would do just that even if it takes forever.

“I wish her to be happy too Slyvain,” your mother replied, holding his hand in hers, “but we mustn’t act the victims when she soon learns that we’ve been withholding the truth.” She advised before taking her departure from the grand hall, leaving your father to mull over recent events and question himself before an audience of a dead man’s severed head. “Did I do the right thing?”

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k1ranishf4 · 1 year

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Honestly, I think it’s extremely obvious that those four dudes are Dio’s sons.

Like, I take a look at these bitches and go “yup, they got the slut genes.”

(I would’ve loved to see a glimpse of 25 year old Giorno, even if for just two seconds but well :’))

Giorno and Rikiel have the Boob Window™ (which Giorno started out of the Brandos), Donatello is showing off his collar bones and has a semi-Boob Window and Ungalo’s out there tryna stab a priest while wearing a really really short crop top that would show his underboobs if he just stretched his arms.

Pucci would’ve died immediately if he had been a good Christian priest and saw the manwhore clothes all of them wear. Dio says no to generational trauma but he’s definitely pushing the generational sluttines agenda.

JUST LOOK AT HIM!!

Aside from the fact that I find him very attractive and am a Dio enthusiast, he’s displaying the crotch for everyone to see and his top doesn’t even cover his back, like??? It kind of bothers me when fanartists don’t include the fact that his back is also out for everyone to look at. He’s definitely wearing latex, no one can convince me otherwise.

Plus the earrings?? When did bro have the chance to pierce his ears? That wasn’t a thing in Phantom Blood. I actually don’t know if the other three have any kind of piercings, but Giorno definitely got his earrings after he saw that photo of his father.

It’s so funny to me, actually. Like, Dio was born in the Victorian Era, when it was inappropriate for a lady to show her ankles and even men were basically covered head to toe.

AND THEN HE COMES BACK A CENTURY LATER AND DECIDES TO RUN AROUND WEARING THE TIGHTEST BLACK TANK TOP KNOWN TO MAN AND LOVES TO WALK AROUND NAKED IN HIS MANSION?????

What in the name of Jonathan’s head did Enya tell this man💀

I love mudad a lot, if you couldn’t tell, and I’d keep talking about them for hours. Especially how all four of their personalities equal one whole Dio Brando (well, like 50-60% of Giorno’s personality + the others but-)

My new headcanon that I’ll be taking from this is that Rikiel would look up to Giorno and that he’d try to be like him if they were all raised together. They’d definitely match one way or another. (Tell me Giorno and Rikiel are your favorites without telling me Giorno and Rikiel are your favorites)

I have three or four mudad drafts that I still need to finish writing, yet here I am fueling my mind with even more ideas💀

#jojo's bizarre adventure #dio brando #giorno giovanna #donatello versus #ungalo #rikiel #jjba #mudad #they’re a family of manwhores #jjba part 5 #golden wind #jjba part 6 #stone ocean #jjba headcanons

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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I’m sorry for venting hahah but i just wanted to know how you see that

I see a lot of fics where azriel is a manwhore or cheats on his mate and i really don’t see azriel like that

Sure he is not a virgin in canon but i also don’t see him changing his partner’s every time. I get the feeling he has like some partners where he lives out his kinks if that makes sense? Like a person you trust with that but he doesn’t love them.

And i really don’t see azriel cheating. Neither on his mate ( because let’s be real 😒 he isn’t waiting for his mate for 500 years just to cheat on her with elain and I’m saying her name because its always her 😂) but he also wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend/wife when he finds his mate. I think he would talk about that and see what his parents says but he would never do something like cheating. Maybe because he saw how his father treated his mother i just don’t see him treating women like dirt. Even if its just sex for him i feel like he would be respectful and don’t cross any lines.

Sorry it got really long but i just wanted to know your opinion/ your followers

I know that a lot of people love the angst and i do too but i just wanted to clear the air that its fandom azriel and canon azriel wouldn’t cheat in my eyes..

Hiiii! Omg you’re always welcome to vent!

I actually didn’t realise some people saw Azriel this way! I’ve never seen it myself.

Personally, I cannot see Azriel being the cheating sort at all. He wants to be loved, and I think he holds things like loyalty and trust very close to his heart and considers them very sacred. I can’t imagine him finally finding true love, only to then fuck it up by betraying it.

It mentions in one of the books that he has no shortage of lovers, and so I think he certainly enjoys himself while he isn’t committed to anyone. But in a relationship, I think loyalty is sacred to him, and I just can’t see him doing anything to ruin that! 💕

#ask #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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I thought about it after you said it. The battle between really yan!dad Criston and yan!mom Rhaenyra will be epic.For some reason I dream that the precious child of Criston and Rhaenyra will be a Princess. It would be nice to imagine Criston being a good father to bby. Think about it, Criston would have gone mad if the precious Princess had suffered a minor injury the night Aemond was injured. Criston will be furious when Harwin, Laenor and Daemon try to father the precious Princess. The reader is only his daughter of values. I dream that the green and black teams will be yandere for the precious Princess. The war will begin for the Princess, not the throne.

I’d like to think that Criston would be a good father to his child either way, but if he had a daughter then he would be completely and utterly wrapped around her finger. I definitely see him not taking too well to any of Rhaenyra’s ‘manwhores’ trying to fulfill his role as a father to his own child. He would certainly watch their every move with his child and would vocalize his criticism towards them for whatever they were doing or for however they were going about interacting with his child. It would be made extremely obvious that Criston has a massive soft spot for his child with Rhaenyra out of all of her children. He’d still very much act the same towards the Velaryon boys, but he may even be worse because they get to be around and call his child their “sister” when he can’t even do much but be in the same proximity as her. They can hold her, they can speak to her informally, they get to be a family with her while he’s forced to stand by and watch. Also, I could see Criston getting confronted by his child for his treatment of their brothers and telling him how horrible she thinks he is because of it, resulting in Criston acting better towards the boys only when the Reader is around. He’d also get the Green boys to behave better when in the Reader’s presence too.

I could surely see Alicent especially becoming yandere for the child but more so out of ill intentions to bring down Rhaenyra. Not only that but also maybe taking an even deeper interest in the child because Criston is in a way unable to be a true father to the child himself so she also takes his frustration and want for that onto herself, so basically harboring Criston’s own feelings about the situation and wanting of being involved in his child’s life. I could even see her at first feigning wanting to interact/spend time with the child privately so that Criston could have his own time with his child while she stood by and allows it behind Rhaenyra’s back. I have no doubt though that to not only give Criston more access to his own child but also to take the child from Rhaenyra, Alicent would betroth the Reader to one of her children. Maybe when Rhaenyra proposes marrying Jace and Helaena, Alicent instead offers up Aegon and the Reader or even Aemond or Daeron.

I like to think that the Reader would be close to Helaena and that the two would be extremely bonded to one another before Baela and Rhaena come into the picture. So I don’t doubt that Helaena at the very least would be yandere for the Reader. She may even try to convince or persuade the Reader into getting a betrothal with one of her brothers, or even a joined marriage with her and Aegon that way she can also have the Reader to herself too.

#anxious answers #yandere criston cole #yandere alicent hightower #yandere helaena targaryen #yandere house of the dragon concept #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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daenystheedreamer · 4 months

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helaena and jace have six kids :) rhaella the eldest is rhaenyra's favourite, jaehaerys is the heir, aemma and aemon are twins and aemon is alicent's favourite, alysanne is born deaf and blind and is helaena's special baby girl who must be protected, and maelys is the evil one. also viserra and aegon but both died of birth complications.

blackwoods and brackens have a diva off during the reign of rhaenyra as an analogue to the dance. rhaenyra and aemond fly down to deal with it after a couple years of assassinations cos it stops being funny and starts being annoying. anyway alysanne ends up getting dragged up to the red keep cos she killed people but is able to finesse her way into a pardon, and rhaenyra ends up arranging alysanne to marry aegon and the bracken daughter to marry aemond.

rhaenyra sends aegon off to the riverlands (like daemon to the vale...) to go become a houseflipper and rebuild oldstones as a vacation home. gives him something to do + gets to manipulate mansplain manwhore his way through the riverlands. black aly just does her own thing. she ends up having a kid with him like a decade into the marriage but its probably not aegon's.

aemond gets stuck with partygirl camilla as his wife. she is fun and cool in a normal way not in a aemond way. she's the heiress of stone hedge (until her baby brother comes of age) since everyone else got exploded and she's got the attitude of a turn-of-the-century american nouveau riche socialite. she thinks aemond is so weird. ends up moving back to stone hedge after a while cos aemond is too weird. has two sons two daughters probably all fathered by aegon.

aegor, maegelle, elaena and vaegon are the four kids. aegor is fun times crazy. maegelle wants to marry jaehaerys and buts heads with rhaella. elaena is aemond's favourite. and vaegon is the spare :3 he's got turboautism about architecture and gets sent to the citadel. aemond sends aegor to the priesthood for being an embarrassing sex pest (horny jail) but aegor retaliates by becomign the literal pope. very pope alexander type guy. Has two bastards i havent named yet but theyre just cesare and lucretia borgia.

and THATS the state of the green kids descendants in my au. oh and i shunted daeron off on addam of hull cos i didnt wanna bother with him too much. he become a knight of the kingsguard for jace and he's gay idc

#jacelaena transmutation #addam and alyn prove themselves as cool guys and get recognition that way. never get acknowledged but like Everyone knows #addam becomes a knight and alyn becomes baela's boytoy

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saphirafoxgirlspost1 · 1 year

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(Open Rp) Kp X Fantasy in "Tale of the Merman Island"

At night of the Prom in The Small town of Middleton, Saphira Looked at the Video's and Pictures of Ron..Kim, And Bonnie making love..and comments and spoke ill about Saphira and her 4 dead Unborn babies...Saphira was Pretty enrage, She turns to Ron and gives him a "Is this true?" look of her face...Ron was frigthen and he knew he was caught and he's going to be in the world of trouble if he Doesn't Speak to her right now..and then he said,

Ron: "S-s-saph...this isn't what it Looks like!"

Saphira: "Is this true? are you Planning to Steal my money..and Mocked Your Own dead "Flesh and blood"...and Plan to make a "Whore house!?" What Kind Of Fool Do you think I am!? Is This Some Kind Of a Sick Joke!?"

Saphira was Enrage by His Horrible Actions, Then..She Planted a Huge Smack on the Right Side of the face and Spitting Harshful Words like venom onto his face telling him that He is nothing more than a Sorry excuse of a Man, Father, and a Boyfriend who Doesn't treat Women With a Serious Respect..When She and Him got home with her hand yanked onto his ears..while her tails got kims and Bonnies ears yanked as well...as their parents waiting in the Kitchen With their Furious look of their faces when they Found out about What Ron, kim and Bonnie had Done to saphira all this time..eve the Disappearance...and then Ron's Dad said,

Mr. Stoppable:"RONALD STOPPABLE! I can't believe what I've been hearing and Watching this video...How Could you Do this to a good Woman Like saphira!? What were you thinking!? Cheating on her with those two harlots!"

Mr. Possible:" I am ashamed that My Own Daughter who would Do such thing by Stealing a bestfriends boyfriend Like this! How Could you!? friends shouldn't Do this! Friends can share anything...but Not a Boyfriend Nor a Husband Period!"

Mr. Rockweller:"Me too man!, Bonnie! I can't believe you got involved with a Murder of saphira's children! I can't believe that You and those two are nothing but a baby killer! your not worthy to be a mother at all, Not what you have done to saph!"

Ron: "B-b-but dad i-"

Mr. Stoppable: "SHUT IT SON!! Your mother and I didn't raise you to be like Some Gold digging, baby killing manwhore in this family! and I don't know what went wrong on us! But this is far Enough! Son! after you graduate! Your going to Pay This Good Woman a Compensation! Along with your two Whores now, I don't fucking care how long are you going to get a job or so! I expect you to pay her 50,0000$ each from ya'll, and I don't want to hear it! you put saphira through for too damn long! and after that..I brought the apartment..so you can pay ya'lls rent for this, as Punishment..for your Sins!"

Ron was shocked..and he begged saphira Forgiveness..but she doesn't...She told him that it's over and didn't want anything to do with him unless he pays compensation by transfer to Saphira's Bank account...then after graduate..She kicked ron out of her home..and Move into Somewhere Far away from Middleton, trying To start Fresh with her life..Her Home is Near by the Ocean but from weeks turns to Months..Saphira was Fell into a despair until She began to Sailing it smoothly..she still sadden..When suddenly..the Storm came in as the Huge wave crashed onto her boat and She was washed away...but She landed on the shore of the strange island and then..One morning..She woke up with a Mystery Island..She gets up and began to exploring the Part of the jungle...until she saw the lagoon of Mermens and mermaids...she was suprised about...and she hides and watched and observe..until Something happens..when...

#Open rp #Romance #Drama #Merman island #Kp

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theemporium · 5 months

Note

Hooooooly shit I just got off of work AND AHHH MORE PPL ARE FEEDING MY BRAINROT WITH ROYAL LESTAPPEN. HELL YEAH.

Also general question to you and the other anons: do we actually like queenie as a nickname? I just kinda went with it after the original confusion.

Ok ok ok so so so more brainrot time

This little SHIT of a head knight would be sooooo fucking smug (privately unless they’re in the bedroom) that he bagged not one but TWO royals (to the anon that brought this up; your so real for this). And they’re from THE two most powerful kingdoms in the realms…. Oh he is sooooo smug and is such a little shit about it if he gets a chance.

I’m adding to my personal head cannon from the powerful kingdoms here… let’s assume that Charles and queenies betrothal is an alliance thing, since the two kingdoms have been at war for GENERATIONS. One is successful because of their kindness and generosity, the other because they’re feared. Even better they’re neighboring kingdoms, and queenie is an only child (not, her dads a manwhore but she’s the only one with a claim to the throne). So with the betrothal, there is also an agreement that when queenies parents abdicate/die the kingdoms are gunna be merged… yeah max is SO FUCKING SMUG.

Which just makes the Jos is alive and trying to get max to fuck over the royal family even better bc he KNOWS that the kingdom is going to get more powerful at one point and he wants that power.

But also once max puts his foot down and says to hell with jos’s plan, his is trying to assassinate queenie. Charles is fine, he likes Charles, but let’s go with the theory that Sophie (maxs mom) was his second wife and an assassin or something of the sort from queenies home kingdom killed his first wife. Which is why queenie is his main target and not max

Ok I have more ideas but I’m stopping here I’m getting hangry

Also is the 🦒 emoji taken yet? I’m forgetting my (and yours IM SORRY BTW) indecisiveness for now and am going with the tallest animal I can find bc I’m also a “giant” (according to my friends)

I don’t know why the assassination plot gave me flashbacks to ella enchanted😭that scene where she fights back against the curse and doesn’t kill the prince like she was intended to. I don’t know why that came to mind but it did!!!

but the way that max originally trained/became a knight because his father wanted someone in the inner circle. the fact it started as a way to please his father but then he fell for the king. and then the queen. and for a few months, it’s so easy for max to feel like he’s living the perfect life until jos steps back into his life

and imagining max first pulling away from charles and the reader because he doesn’t want his father to know. but then he does it because he doesn’t want jos tainting this pure thing in his life, or hurting the people he loves

and maybe charles and reader knew his relationship with his father was rocky, but when they find out the truth??? when they find out how badly max was treated??? THEY ARE HAPPY TO SHOW JOS WHY THEY WEAR THE CROWNS AND NOT HIM AND MAX IS JUST SO OVERWHELMED BY THESE TWO PEOPLE WHO LOVE HIM ENDLESSLY

#cece answers #royal!lestappen #lestappen.thots #🦒.anon

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year

Text

Vikings + gen z slang

Summary: How Vikings Characters would react to Gen Z slang

Notes: back on working on requests, so i hope i can get some more oneshots out soon. happy lunar new year to everyone who celebrates!!

Tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey @ivarlover @levithestripper @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy (hmu to be added to any taglist!)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Ragnar

With the program

He knows that he’s a slay-queen-girlboss-cunt-serving-camp

He understands gen z slang like no other

Rizz? He’s got it. Mister Worldwide? Been there, done that.

Turns into a ninth century (?) twitter queen

Lagertha

She doesn’t really care all that much about gen z slang

“You’re slaying? Me too, but on the battlefield. Catch up.”

Pretends not to understand

Fully understands and sometimes busts down on her gen z meme culture knowledge

Aslaug

Aslaug is above gen z slang

But she also knows that she’s camp

She just knows

She’s a volva, magic is in her blood. You know what else is? An immaculate sense in fashion

That’s the only thing that might make her willing to try to understand our culture

Perfected the lightskin stare the moment she was born (it’s permanently on her face istg)

Athelstan

PLEASE NO

You know that ancient man video? Athelstan is the ancient man. Would he understand the video? No.

This would be his response: God, that girl looks terribly drunk.

As a linguist, he tries

Approaches it as a foreign language. It works to some degree.

I never want to hear the words “You’re serving girlboss today, Ragnar.” Out of his mouth

(this happened to me in a dream. Literally traumatizing)

Bjorn

Thinks it’s girlish (it is not)

Would say “You’re one of them queers?”

I mean yeah, but so is your mom.

Gen z talk isn’t cool enough for him (he’s suffering from Rollo’s internalized generational homophobia/gayness, give him some space)

Ubbe

Like a supportive mom

‘That’s wonderful sweetie. Now back to my casserole.’

Absolutely understands gen z slang after you teach him

Prides himself on having the most rizz

Boy you rizzed up a slave girl and your aunt calm down

Protects gen z slang against ivar like it’s cultural heritage

Hvitserk

Worst mistake you could make is teach him slang

He uses it

Just incorrectly

At all times

And does not care to be corrected.

Slang is a product of pop culture? Hvitserk is now making it HIS product

Deal with it (don’t. make him stfu pls.)

Sigurd

He’s one of those abcdefu people

The ones that are like ‘let me sing my new song for you, and if you don’t like it, I’ll pay for your gas’

So annoying

But also in an indie artist generational trauma daddy issues kind of way, so I can forgive him

Not really

Ivar

HATES gen z slang more than anything

He thinks it’s stupid

Dumb

Dull

Incredibly unintellectual

Secretly uses it to express his feelings in a diary he burns every week

Ecbert

ECBERT MY SILLY LITTLE GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

Manwhore and proud!

Get this man a gag asap or you’ll live to regret the day you met him

With him and Ragnar, you’re gonna be stuck in a little hellcircle (probably to be joined by Athelstan)

Gets acrylics despite not knowing what they are and clicks with them

STOP HIM! STOP THIS SILLY LITTLE MAN!

Aethelwulf

Literally the opposite of Ecbert

If he has to spend one more second around his father speaking slang

He’ll cut off his ear to match Judith

And then the other to outdo her (he’s such a loser smh)

So done with Ecbert

He’ll literally hate everything Ecbert likes

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emmatgc · 4 months

Text

Tommy's Secret

Thomas Michael Shelby

A War hero.

He used to smile, a lot.

He likes to work with horses.

He fell in love with Greta.

He watched her die.

He got PTSD.

He never came back from the war.

Nobody did.

He became the lead gangster boss.

A cold blooded killer.

A charming racketeer.

A Manwhore.

He loves his family but decides for them, too.

Controlling, manipulative , egoistical and highly ambitious.

He is the "robinhood" mobster kind.

He is their bad guy.

He demands loyalty from everybody

but not himself.

He is too wounded. Too damaged.

But kept on going for the family

Just waiting till somebody finally ends him.

But nobody did. Fate has other plans.

Much crueler than death.

Fate decided, Tommy should live again.

Lived he did through a woman named, Grace.

A copper came to town with a mission.

An agent of the crown.

An undercover spy in silk

Full of revenge and duty

For herself and her country.

She got him at his "Hello".

Instantly smitten and besotted

So intrigued and bewildered.

Who the f*ck is she?

1st time since Greta, he fell in love again.

But this time, with a sworn enemy.

How could he?

Tommy tried to hide and denied it

He tried to play her as a jerk he was with Kimber

But he changed his mind

Confused and scared of what it all means to him

A blonde barmaid who sings.

Tommy says no a lot but he says yes to almost everything Grace.

The boy I love, she sings.

Secretly, hoping he is that boy up in the gallery.

Little by little, he researched on her

Slowly but surely, he cant help but think about her

Why is she here?

Ref flags not green flags

Is Tommy that stupid?

He answers for her even if he was the one who asks those questions

There were doubts but it remained as is

He was already blinded, falling hard

Like a choo choo train, it cant be stopped.

He was nearly killed but she saved him, twice.

One at the bar and the other, at her apartment.

They have seen each other.

Flawed, imperfect and the same.

She was a snitch alright, but she, too changed her mind.

She tried to cut and sew the loose ends

But Campbell was a bigger jerk.

Tommy as smart as he was was blinded by love.

Ask Polly, she knows.

Grace packed her bags

But he needed to see her.

He wasn't angry. He got betrayed but he still wants to see her alright.

She confessed again and he tossed a coin and chose to walk away.

He needed a reason to stay.

He chose his family.

He doesn't deserve her, he knows

She was his soldiers minute but

He continued being Tommy.

Two years past and he hasn't moved on from her.

Again, ask Polly, for she knows.

Too wounded. Too hurt.

Too proud to return any letters or write them back

Yet never once said he said to stop.

Slept with May, Lizzie and others

but in the instant she is back in their homeland

He called and got jealous of the man at the other line.

See, Tommy's secret is not his business nor his family.

It was and will always be Grace.

Grace's secret is Tommy's secret.

Like his favorite horse he caress and loves dearly, it is a homage to her.

He is keeping her secrets

Nobody dares should ask for he wont tell.

He doesn't tell people things, he tells her

In short, he is protecting her all this time.

Grace came back.

A second chance was given.

They had a reunion.

One that showed his vulnerability and unconditional love.

By all means, he should be angry at her.

She is now married.

But it was him who let her go.

He hated her ring but at the same time

brought her to Charlie Chaplin to impress her.

It did more than that.

He became the father to her child just as he thought he would from the 1st night they made love.

A future full of promises, change and redemption.

Finally, he admits defeat.

She wins, always.

Tommy who is always in control couldn't control Grace.

He loves her so much

But there's too much sins to pay even before she came

Tommy who was ready to die at the Derby races

Became so breathless upon hearing "i love you not him"

There is a woman, true.

A woman he deeply loves.

What he lacked was time.

She paid for his sins.

Tragic and painful

Shortlived for her

Eternal suffering for Tommy.

Fate crueler than death.

He got close.

Nearly got f*cking everything.

All he wanted was to dance with her

Now, every night he is dancing with her ghost.

He killed her

She killed him, too.

He is no longer living a life rather just barely living in the land of the living.

Happy or sad, Thomas?

He wants to join her.

Another secret.

#tommy x grace #tommy shelby #grace burgess #peaky blinders #grace shelby #cillian murphy #annabelle wallis #tommy x grace forever #true love always win #thomas shelby

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darkjimxn · 7 months

Text

Chapter 2: Busted [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, sexual content (not explicit), additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: Sorry for taking forever to update, a lack of motivation and school are to blame :( On another note, thanks for that anon's kind words, comments like that really help to keep me motivated!

Jimin lurched upright as the sound of the door shuddering violently reverated around the room, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. For a fleeting moment, he was back in his childhood bedroom, watching his door be slammed against repeatedly while his father let out a string of threats from behind the wooden structure.

But instead of his father bursting into the room, it was Taehyung, who looked exhausted and distressed.

“Party’s over, get out,” he announced, pausing when he noticed who was sitting up on the bed, “oh, it’s just you.”

Taehyung looked into the hallway for a moment, shouting at someone to hurry up, before poking his head back into the room, “are you staying over? My parents won’t mind, you already know they love you more than me.”

Jimin chuckled, trying to mask his erratic heartbeat, “they won’t mind me, but what about her?”

Their gazes both dropped on you, who was still sleeping peacefully beside Jimin under the soft covers of the bed. He found it funny how Taehyung’s incessant banging hadn’t even caused you to stir in your spot.

“Yeah no, definitely not. She needs to go.”

Jimin nodded, expecting as much, “I guess I can stay over tonight, just let me wake her up.”

“Great!” Taehyung declared, clapping his hands together, “but when you’re done that, sleep in the second bedroom, not this one. My parents would kill me if they thought I made you sleep in some random guest room.”

“Because I have parents!” He raised his voice suddenly so everyone rushing in the hallways could hear him, “I’m not one of those frat boys whose parents go on week-long business trips! Mine will be back in a few hours from a date, so everyone get out of my house!”

After watching Taehyung scurry back into the halls, Jimin turned towards your sleeping form.

You were completely passed out as you laid on the mattress with the comforter covering half your face and a pillow fixed snuggly between your arms. The part of your face that Jimin could see was puffy from the few hours of sleep the two of you had managed.

“Y/N?” He tried, repeating your name a few times.

But the most you did was shift in your position, and even that had been at his last repeat of your name. With a sigh, Jimin shuffled closer to you, letting his hand rest on your bare arm tentatively while he called your name once again.

It was only when he shook your arm when you finally shifted, “hm?”

“The party’s over, you have to go kitten,” Jimin answered. He felt you slipping back to sleep, causing him to catch your arm and pull you into a sitting position.

The change in posture had you blinking lazily as Jimin’s figure appeared before you, top exposed and sitting up in the bed the two of you had apparently spent the night in. His orange hair was sticking out in multiple directions while his eyes were slightly squinted due to his sleepy form.

The party’s over…

Party? Yes, party… there had been a party and then you and Jimin had sex and then the two of you had fallen asleep.

Reluctantly, you turned to take in the rest of the room, which was still dark aside from the bedside table lamps and a sliver of moonlight which had escaped through the window. If the moon was still out, then that meant the two of you must have only slept for a few hours.

“Hey,” Jimin spoke up after a couple of seconds, noticing your groggy form, “you good?”

You blinked a couple of times cluelessly, wishing instead to just burrow back into the sheets and sleep for days. Your body felt like an anchor: heavy and unwilling to move until a sturdy metal chain was ready to drag you out of the bed.

“Did you come here alone?” He asked when you didn’t answer, assessing your state carefully. Your nod came after a few moments too long as your mind struggled to process his question.

That made Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, “okay, I’ll take you home. It’s still pretty late in the night and I don’t think you can drive in this state.”

With that said, he pushed himself out of bed, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal his toned back as he began throwing on his clothes. It wasn’t until he was pulling his shirt over his head when you forced yourself to stumble to your feet and do the same.

The cool air felt fresh against your skin as the two of you walked along the road quietly side by side. It had taken Jimin forever to get your address and car keys in order to drive you home, but once he had parked your car in front of your house, he only needed one look at the abnormally long distance between the separate driveway and the front door to decide that your exhausted form wouldn’t last two steps without him.

Your house wasn’t like most, slotted between a row of other houses to form a crowded and organised community. Rather it was located far away from any neighbourhoods, and instead nestled between large acres of grassy land. Jimin would’ve guessed it was farmland, but in the dark he found it hard to make out any crops or barns with animals, so he couldn’t say for sure.

That led to the two of you walking along a dirt-packed footpath, with Jimin keeping a firm hand on your arm to make sure you wouldn’t fall from exhaustion. It still irked him as to how you could still be so tired even now. Sure, you weren’t exactly running on a full night’s sleep, but the few hours you had managed should have been enough to ensure you weren’t a walking zombie.

“Was it the sex?” He finally asked, “How can you be this tired?”

Even in your exhausted state you still managed to shoot him a withering glare.

“If you had just let me take the Adderall earlier, I wouldn’t be like this.”

Jimin’s expression fell quickly, a sinking feeling in his stomach, “why? You don’t need it.”

“How would you know? I have a prescription,” you lied smoothly, “do you not believe in mental health, Park Jimin?”

You tried to remember what Adderall was actually used for to really sell your lie, but your mind was much too hazy to manage that level of thinking.

An amused scoff escaped Jimin’s lips, “really? What do you take it for?”

You almost groaned out loud as you went back to racking your brain. BPD? ASPD? IBD? Ugh, why did so many disorders exist in the first place?

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally huffed, giving up on the ability of your thoughts, “I don’t owe you my medical history anywa-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a pebble caught between the edge of your shoe and the dirt-packed ground, causing you to stumble. With how sluggish you felt, your face would have gotten some serious reshaping if it wasn’t for Jimin’s hand that kept you steady,

“The bottle didn’t have a prescription label with your name on it,” Jimin said, pulling you up, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

That made you groan, “if you’re going to tell me about the dangers of drugs and how I’m going to die alone I don’t want to hear it. I have no energy to deal with that right now.”

But to your surprise he didn’t say anything, even after the two of you had arrived at your front door. Instead, Jimin turned towards you, an unreadable expression evident on his face. Or maybe you were just too tired to make out the meaning of his facial features.

For a brief moment, his lips parted, hinting at an unspoken thought he might have wanted to express. But after a moment of silence, he ultimately closed his mouth, choosing instead to look away.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he said finally, turning around and making his way back to the car without another glance, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched him drive off, much too tired to think any more of the recent events.

The next morning the shrill sound of your alarm was quick to spring to life, causing you to groan irritably. You slammed a pillow over your ear in a desperate attempt to block out the deafening noise, hoping that it would at least be enough to get you a few more seconds of sleep, but the soft barrier couldn’t do much to dampen the piercing screech. Frustrated, you threw the pillow off of you, letting it’s useless form fall to the floor.

With the pillow gone, the first thing that hit you was the sunlight. It travelled into the room through your window, setting fire to your surroundings as if someone had accidentally brought the sun in here. It was too bright. Everything was too bright and too loud and too hot.

Wishing for some semblance of peace, you finally turned towards your bedside table to pick up your phone and shut off the annoyingly loud alarm. It felt a little better, but it wasn’t enough. The sunlight was still so bright it hurt your eyes, while your body still felt heavy. And you were hungry too. So hungry you felt like you could eat a whole cow if you were given the chance.

“God Adderall crash is such a pain,” you whined as you turned towards your bedside table and began rummaging through the drawers. You pushed past safety pins, hair ties, hairbrushes, some old papers…

Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued searching, but ultimately failed to produce a small white bottle that was your salvation at the moment. You just got a new bottle from Yoongi, where could it be?

You forced yourself to recount yesterday's events, ignoring your rumbling stomach and sore arms. The bottle had been in your pocket as you were leaving school, so it couldn’t still be there. Then you attended Taehyung’s party where you drank some beer and failed to find some drugs, so instead you had sex with Jimin-

You flopped back into your bed as the realisation came crashing down on you. Jimin. Park Jimin had taken your bottle and thrown it away. Your last tiny bottle of Adderall was now in a trash can in Taehyung’s house.

Your body suddenly felt ten times heavier at the thought. The last time you were out of Adderall, you had to go through a week of fatigue, headaches, and an intense desire to eat everything in sight. You could not go through that again.

With newfound determination, you stumbled out of your room and down the stairs to enter the kitchen. Your goal had been to search the cabinets for some Adderall you might have stashed in the past for later, but the sight of the fridge had derailed that goal. You couldn’t help but grab yesterday’s leftover noodles and shovel them into your mouth as you simultaneously began searching the cabinets. You had to have at least one stash hidden somewhere in the house.

Though the more you rummaged through the cabinets, the more frustrated you were becoming. They were filled with nothing but decade old spices and some granola bars you couldn’t help but eat alongside your noodles.

Ultimately you huffed in frustration as you shut the last cabinet and collapsed onto the floor of the kitchen, still no Adderall in hand. Yoongi couldn’t contact you until the police were off his back and you didn’t have any other dealer you could go to. It had already taken you so long to find someone as trustworthy as him. What were you going to do?

Could you get your bottle back from Taehyung’s house? There’s no way that rich kid with a bunch of maids wouldn’t have already replaced all the trash cans in his house, and there’s no way you’d find your small white bottle in all that trash after a party.

You munched on one of the granola bars as you tried to figure out some other solution to your problem, but with your mind going through withdrawal, it was pretty much useless. There was no hope.

As you sat tiredly on the kitchen floor, biting at your granola bar and finishing up the noodles, your gaze suddenly caught onto a flash of white near your fridge. Confused, you scooted closer to it.

Your eyes widened in excitement as you noticed a small white bottle wedged between the bottom of the fridge and the counter. You knew it. You knew there had to have been one bottle left.

But as you grabbed at the small container, it became apparent even to your unfocused mind that the bottle of Adderall was completely empty. Not even one pill for you to at least get through the day.

Tired, still hungry, and mind foggier than ever, you just wanted to burrow back into your bed and sleep for the rest of the week. And you were about to do just that until the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut behind you caused you to flinch.

“Y/N?”

The mind that was struggling to form even one thought suddenly froze altogether at the familiar voice. Eyes wide and bottle in hand, you slowly turned to find your father standing near the kitchen’s doorway. There was a white plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand as he first scanned your form on the kitchen floor, the granola bar wrappers on the dining table…

And then the empty bottle of Adderall in your hand.

Crap.

When Jimin thought of therapy, the first thing that usually came to mind was a minimalist living room with two neutral-coloured sofas, a matching coffee table, and an intrusive woman that was hell bent on finding out ‘how he feels.’

The sofas and coffee table were definitely no stereotype, confirmed by the beige couch he was sitting on now and the glass coffee table standing right before him.

The intrusive woman, on the other hand, remained yet to be seen.

Jimin’s gaze jumped around the room anxiously as his arms leaned against his knees, taking in the tall bookshelf that he assumed was filled with self help books, an abstract painting filled with strokes of blue, black, and white, and a window displaying the vast view of the city’s many buildings.

He had been so preoccupied with scanning the window that the sudden sound of the door opening made him flinch. His head snapped towards the door behind him, revealing a woman in her late twenties walking into the room. She was dressed professionally, with a simple white blouse tucked into black dress pants, while her straight brown hair flowed freely beneath her shoulders.

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted with a smile when she noticed his seated form, “you’re early. That’s good.”

Jimin greeted her back politely as he watched her take a seat on the identical sofa in front of him. Her sudden entrance had only increased the anxiety he felt towards the fact that he couldn’t see the door. If someone else were to walk through it quietly enough, he wouldn’t even know. Anyone could just sneak up on him just like that…

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up, unable to contain his anxiety much more, “could we- um, switch seats?”

Instead of confusion, there was only understanding apparent on the woman’s face, “of course.”

He thanked her as they changed seats. With both the window and the door in his sights he felt a little less anxious.

Once everything had been settled, the woman gave him a warm smile, “my name is Lauren, and I will be your therapist for the duration of your sessions.”

“How long is this going to take?” Jimin couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to be rude, he knew Lauren was only doing her job, but for some reason her presence made him anxious. He felt like she could see through him and reveal every part of himself he’d much rather stay hidden.

“This, as well as your future sessions, will be around fifty to sixty minutes long. During this time, we will be focusing on your feelings in reaction to the traumatic event, but we won’t be focusing on that too much today since I’ll be doing most of the talking.”

Lauren held up a binder that was sitting on her lap,“I’ll have your treatment manual in my lap and will be referring to it throughout our sessions to ensure I deliver the psychotherapy as it was prescribed. Please don’t hesitate to ask questions as the session unfolds.”

Jimin simply nodded, eyeing the beige pendulum wall clock that had barely moved since she had walked into the room. Seeing as only a minute or two had gone by, he knew this was going to be the longest hour of his life.

Oblivious to his apprehension, Lauren began to give him an overview of what would normally go on in their sessions before she explained the outline of their current session. It wasn’t until she had moved onto a different topic when Jimin’s straying attention was caught once again.

“According to your CAPS score, you met diagnostic criteria for PTSD, which is a mental health condition that often develops after experiencing a distressing event. PTSD is characterised by three clusters of symptoms: re-experiencing, avoidance and numbing, and hyperarousal. Could you give me some examples of symptoms you experience that would fall under any of these clusters?

There was a moment of silence as Jimin shifted uncomfortably, “I get frequent nightmares- that would fall under re-experiencing. And last night, for a moment, I thought I was back in my childhood room and my dad was banging against the door. Sort of like a mini flashback.”

Lauren nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“For avoidance and numbing… I try to avoid thinking or talking about what happened altogether. I also kind of feel detached from others, but I couldn’t really explain that in detail even if you asked me to.”

“As for hyperarousal symptoms…” Jimin paused, “Taehyung always tells me I keep my guard up a lot. I’ve also noticed that small things tend to startle me as well.”

Lauren nodded, “re-experiencing symptoms, like your nightmares, are related to hyperarousal symptoms, like your hypervigilance. Both of these symptoms usually elicit a desire to either avoid, become numb, or both. Ironically, trying to avoid or numb your feelings ends up maintaining, or even increasing, your PTSD symptoms. Which is why the more you avoid or numb, the worse your condition gets. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he responded, eyeing the clock once again as her words flew over his head..

“Everyone has existing beliefs that encompass how they see themselves, others and the world. When these beliefs are challenged by things like traumatic events, people respond in different ways. Some might change their perception of the event to make sense of it and essentially blend it into their existing beliefs. This is a process called ‘assimilation.’ Another reaction can involve a process called ‘overaccommodation,’ which involves an individual drastically changing their entire belief system to make the traumatic event fit. Trauma usually affects various areas of beliefs, including safety, trust, power or control, esteem, and intimacy.”

“Another important thing to note is that if someone already had negative beliefs about these aspects before the traumatic event, the event could further reinforce those negative beliefs. Make sense?”

Jimin simply nodded, not entirely understanding much of what she was saying; he just wanted the session to be over with faster. It felt like his brain was going to explode with all the new information that was being thrown at him and his distaste only grew when she asked him to describe his upbringing.

Even though he knew talking was all therapy was about, he really didn’t want to talk about his crappy past. He’s done a great job of pretending it didn’t exist up until now.

“My dad did drugs all throughout my life,” Jimin forced himself to say, reminding himself that he had to at least give this thing a try if he wanted to get better, “ they were really hard ones too. They would make him have these hallucinations where he was convinced my mom was cheating on him, or that she and I were planning his downfall or something.”

“Because of that he used to beat my mom a lot, so badly she’d end up in the hospital sometimes. He tried to beat me too, to ‘teach me a lesson,’ but my mom would always protect me by diverting his attention onto her. She did that for the first seven years of my life before she decided that she’d had enough of being my human shield and ran away. My dad’s drug use got ten times worse after that, and with no one to stop him, he began beating me instead.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to his fidgety hands, “I wonder if my mom left because she had gotten sick of raising me as well. I guess I was a little hyper for my age, maybe if I had been a more quiet and obedient kid she would’ve taken me with her when she left.”

He noticed Lauren write something down in her binder, but decided not to voice his curiosity. When she finished, she looked up at him with sympathy evident in her eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Jimin, you didn’t deserve what your father did to you all those years.”

Jimin merely shrugged, though his gaze wouldn’t meet hers.

“Many people experience traumatic events in their lives, but not everyone develops chronic PTSD symptoms. This is because of a concept commonly known as ‘stuck points.’ Stuck points refer to certain ways of thinking about trauma and about oneself, others, and the world that act as barriers to healing and moving forward. These patterns of thought basically keep a person ‘stuck’ in their distress and contribute to the persistence of PTSD symptoms. This is why the main goal of these therapy sessions will be to figure out what prevented your recovery.”

“But in order to achieve this goal, we’ll have to explore your trauma. Could you provide a five minute account of the traumatic event you experienced?”

That made Jimin scoff, “I got beat up several times a month for years. How am I supposed to pick one?”

“Which of those events do you think about the most? Which event do you dislike thinking about the most? Remember it doesn’t need to be detailed, just a brief overview of what happened.”

Jimin’s dread intensified as his restlessness only increased. But the session was close to ending soon. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave.

“I get the most nightmares about the night my dad died,” he recounted emotionlessly, the pace of his words quickening, “I was in my bedroom with my girlfriend when my dad suddenly started banging against the door. I let him in, but realised he was hallucinating some insane story which made him hurt my girlfriend. I ended up taking a bat to his head which eventually killed him.”

“You did a great job sharing that with me,” she praised, “how do you feel after sharing that memory?”

“Like I want to leave,” he said honestly.

Instead of taking offence, Lauren simply nodded in understanding.

“‘Natural’ emotions are feelings that are proportionate reactions to experiences that have occurred. For example, if we’re placed in a dangerous situation, it’s natural to feel fear. The diminishing course of these emotions means that allowing ourselves to feel these natural emotions will eventually cause them to naturally dissipate. ‘Manufactured’ emotions, on the other hand, are emotions that we contribute in making through the frequency of certain thoughts. For example, if a person tells himself he’s ugly again and again, he will likely feel more and more anger towards himself. This is why another goal of therapy will be to figure out how you have been manufacturing emotions that are unhelpful to you.”

“So to summarise, the three major goals of therapy will be to, one, remember and accept what happened by not avoiding those memories and associated feelings. Two, to allow yourself to feel your natural emotions so that the memory can be put away without such strong feelings still attached. And, three, to balance beliefs that had been disrupted or reinforced so that you can stop manufacturing unhelpful emotions.”

The mention of ‘feeling his emotions’ made Jimin want to crawl out of his own skin.

Lauren then put up a strong case for how important it would be for Jimin to do the out-of-session practice she’d be assigning him at the end of every session, emphasising that not doing those assignments would mean that Jimin would only be spending 1-2 out of 168 hours a week on his recovery, and that doing the assignments would help him reduce his inclination towards avoidance. His nods felt automatic as his gaze stayed fixed to the wall clock, urging its hands to move faster. Recounting his past had left him jittery and all he wanted to do now was lock himself in his room, away from the world and especially away from the therapy that he was disliking more and more every minute.

But seemingly satisfied with his response, Lauren handed him a worksheet anyway, “your first assignment will be to write an Impact Statement about the meaning of the event you recounted today. This is not a trauma account. Rather, it’s simply designed to get behind the meaning of the event in your life and how it impacted your belief systems.”

He took a look at the worksheet, seeing that it only reiterated what Lauren had said to write in more detail, before hesitantly taking it from her outstretched hand. The two of them then exchanged a few pleasantries as he rushed through the doorway.

Jimin couldn’t seem to run out of that place fast enough.

Your muscles stayed frozen as your father continued to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, glare directed towards the white bottle in your hand. You couldn’t believe you had completely forgotten that he was coming home today, your mind too occupied with finding a solution to your current Adderall predicament, and now here he was catching you in the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand.

You were so screwed.

Your father finally walked deeper into the kitchen before snatching the bottle from your fingers and inspecting it thoroughly.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Listen dad, I completely forgot you were coming home tod-”

“We had a deal, Y/N,” he interrupted, crossing his arms, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

You pursed your lips, unable to put up any defence. He seemed to study your form in silence as you pushed yourself off the floor and opted to lean against the dining table instead, still much too tired to even stand on your own. Whatever he saw must have been pathetic enough for him to simply sigh instead of scold your ears off.

“Forget it,” he huffed before turning around and making his way towards the porch.

“Come on, I brought some food.”

“God, you know I hate the smell of weed dad,” you whined, waving a hand under your nose like it would do anything to dampen the putrid smell.

The two of you sat on the porch overlooking the vast acres of land that surrounded your house comfortably, making use of the white plastic table and chairs that were at least a decade old. Usually you would appreciate the beauty of the view, with its luscious green grass, bright blue sky, and fresh airy breeze that were completely absent in the city.

Today though you were miserable with withdrawal, so the green grass and blue sky were much too bright for your eyes, and the fresh air was obscured by the smoke coming out of the fat blunt between your father’s fingers.

“I already told you the smell goes away after a few minutes,” your dad responded, “here, take some. It’ll help you feel less crappy during your Adderall Crash.”

Normally you would decline. You weren’t a fan of smoking, even if it was weed, since it always made you cough your lungs out. But with your current Adderall withdrawal and the prospect of having to feel this way for the next week looming over your head, you uncharacteristically accepted your father’s blunt before taking a long drag of the thing.

Just like always, you had to cough it out for a moment.

“Ah, I feel like I’ve failed you as a father for not teaching you how to smoke properly.”

“Most fathers wouldn’t let their kids near this stuff in the first place,” you deadpanned.

Your father was much too high at that point to take any offence to that and instead laughed.

“So,” you began, wanting to change the subject, “how was work?”

He took a moment to answer, “work’s work. I drive a giant truck here and then I drive a giant truck there. Drove a little farther away than usual yesterday. The view was incredible, like something straight out of Narnia”

You nodded, beginning to feel your mind and body relax from the drag you had taken earlier. You watched your father open the white plastic bag and bring out some takeout, announcing that he had gotten it on his way back home. He handed you a burger and fries as he brought out one for himself.

“So, care to explain to me why I found you on the floor of the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand?” Your father asked, taking a bite out of his burger.

You threw a few fries into your mouth, chewing on the crunchy exterior while the inner softness melted on your tongue. Maybe weed wasn’t your thing, but even you had to admit that eating when high on the stuff was just another experience in itself. It had the power to turn even the worst fast food into the most delicious, five-star food known to man.

“I’m out of Addy,” you finally admitted.

“Addy?”

“Adderall.”

“Right,” your father said, “I can’t keep up with the slang you kids keep inventing nowadays. But anyways, I figured that much. I meant to ask why?”

“I’m sorry dad, I know I promised that I’d get some for your friend since he’s been asking for it, but my dealer had to go in hiding because the police had been tipped off about him and now I don’t have any for myself much less your friend.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” your dad shrugged, not as annoyed by it as earlier. You weren’t sure whether it was because he’d gotten over it or because he was high.

It was probably the latter.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone that could get some for me would you?” You asked hopefully, though the weed was making you feel a lot less concerned about it at the moment.

Unfortunately your dad just shook his head, “my plug doesn’t really deal the small stuff like Adderall. I can give you some Ritalin though? I have a prescription for it for my job. I heard it’s basically the same thing.”

“I’ve heard the same,” you thought for a moment. Honestly you were desperate for anything at this point, “I’ll take it then. Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, your relaxed minds taking in the scenery before you. Unlike earlier, you were starting to enjoy the sight of the fields, with its soft green grass and glorious sky. The soft breeze felt fresh against your skin as you continued to bite into your delicious burger.

“By the way, what happened to your car? Did you take it to the mechanic or something?” Your dad asked absentmindedly, “I didn’t see it in the driveway.”

“What? Are you sure?” You asked as your eyebrows furrowed. Your car should’ve been parked in the driveway since the party last ni-

You suddenly stumbled to your feet, grabbing onto the railing when you felt a wave of dizziness hit your head. You hadn’t driven your car back home last night, Jimin did. But he had left your house driving a car too. That meant…

A gasp slipped from your lips as you rounded a corner, scanning the empty driveway now standing before you. Aside from your dad’s enormous truck, your black compact Toyota was nowhere in sight.

“He stole my car,” you realised incredulously.

That bastard stole your car.

“Jeez Y/N calm down, you’re shaking the whole table,” Namjoon whispered, eyeing the teacher as she continued to lecture the class.

You were seated in your last period classroom, practically counting down the seconds as you waited for the bell to finally dismiss the absolute nightmare of a day you were having. When you had asked your dad for some Ritalin, you had expected him to hand you Ritalin. Whatever he had actually given you had to be far from it though, because there was no way anyone would subject themselves to what you were going through.

Since the morning you’ve felt like a ticking time bomb, too much energy packed into a single human being. You couldn’t stop moving, which was evident in your persistently shaking leg and constantly fidgeting fingers. Technically you did manage to focus in class, but it had taken a lot more energy than you usually needed to compared to when you were on Adderall.

At this point, you were just waiting for the awful effects to wear off, but you didn’t know whether your father had given you the extended-release form or the immediate-release form. You hoped it was the latter because you could not endure this for another 7 hours.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Namjoon asked, laying a hand on your finger. You hadn’t even realised you had started tapping against your desk anxiously.

“God, I’m so jittery right now,” you admitted, willing time to go faster, “I shouldn’t have taken that Ritalin.”

Namjoon’s gaze narrowed as he let out a frustrated breath, “of course it’s the drugs. Why should I even bother thinking otherwise at this point?”

Choosing to ignore the comment, you tried to calm your shaky hands to no avail. As if you weren’t anxious enough, now Namjoon’s frustrated, and slightly worried, gaze drilled into the side of your head.

Thankfully, the sound of the bell reverberated around the classroom a few minutes later, signifying the end of the period. The second the teacher dismissed you all with a wave of her hand, you were out the door, ignoring Namjoon’s inquiries about where you were going. You may have been the most energetic you’ve ever been in the past few years, but you still hadn’t forgotten that there was something important you needed to do.

So you pushed past the hundreds of students beginning to crowd the hallway, searching through a sea of maroon and dark grey uniforms for a certain orange-haired menace. You’d seen him in your second period, taking advantage of his seat that was directly behind you by annoying you to no extent throughout the class. Then the coward had left class 5 minutes early so that he didn’t have to face your wrath after the bell rang.

Your only option now was to search for him after school, which you did in the cafeteria, gymnasium, and a bunch of classrooms, but he was nowhere in sight. You were even debating checking out the principal's office in case the idiot had gotten himself detention.

Fortunately you didn’t need to make a fool of yourself in front of any school faculty when you turned into a relatively deserted hallway and noticed a flash of orange.

You found Jimin standing with his back towards a row of lockers, speaking casually with a frustrated-looking Taehyung. He looked really angry, though you weren’t close enough to hear what they were talking about. Despite his friend’s evident irritation, Jimin seemed completely nonchalant. The first few buttons of his uniform had been undone, revealing a sliver of his toned collarbone while his tie hung loosely from his neck.

But you pushed Jimin’s good looks and Taehyung’s frustration aside, opting instead to march up to the man you’ve been searching for.

When you were close enough, his gaze finally noticed your form, eyebrows raising for a moment before a smirk overtook his features.

“Well, look what we have here. What’s wrong, ki-”

But you had no desire to entertain the jerk for any longer than you needed to. Instead, you grabbed his collar, surprising Taehyung who hadn’t even realised you were there, and dragged him through the hallway before entering the school’s only gender neutral bathroom. The door slammed shut behind you as you focused your glare onto him.

Jimin merely chuckled.

“If you wanted round two so badly, you only had to ask, kitten.”

Maybe it was the Ritalin that was fueling your irritation, because the sound of that nickname had you a lot more annoyed than usual.

“My car.”

Jimin leaned against the bathroom wall, crossing his arms as he scanned your form.

“Come again?”

“You stole my car,” you spat, trying to contain your annoyance. You felt like you had so much energy, mixed with anger that was a dangerous combination.

“Your car,” he said finally, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I have it, yes.”

His nonchalance wasn’t helping either.

“Just because you drove me home that night, doesn’t mean you have permission to steal my car. You think you get to have something like that just for being a decent human being? I could’ve called a cab if I wanted to you know-”

You paused when you noticed his smile widen, clearly amused by your anger. This jerk…

“I can call the police for this, Park Jimin. Just because you gave me a good time once doesn’t mean I’ll feel guilty for having you arrested for taking my car. Have fun in jail you as-”

“I didn’t take your car because I wanted it,” Jimin interrupted, pushing himself off the wall before making his way towards you. It was only then when you realised that he wasn’t wearing his blazer, only the standard white button up that struggled to hide his toned body.

“I took your car,” he continued, stride ending right in front of you, “because I wanted you.”

That made you scoff.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You hated the way his proximity made it so much easier for your gaze to travel down his neck and linger at his collarbone. It was bringing back memories from the party, so much so that you could practically feel his plush lips on your skin as you stared at him now. The ghost of his hand rubbing circles into your waist also did not go unnoticed by you.

“It means that I wanted to see you again,” he reiterated, his own gaze dropping to your lips, as if he were having the same thoughts.

You watched his hand disappear into his pocket and return with your car keys before placing them in your hand.

“Your car’s in the parking lot,” he said in a low voice, still focused on your lips, “you can go to it right now.”

But you felt stuck under his gaze, unable to rip your own away from the movement of his plump lips as he spoke. You remembered the feeling of them on your lips, how good it felt when they had brushed against the bottom lip roughly.

Seeing that you weren’t moving, Jimin let his arms trap you against the door, bringing his face closer to yours as he whispered, “or you could stay here with me. Would you like that, kitten? To stay here with me and see what happens?”

At this point, he was so close you could feel the heat from his body on yours. The images from that night were fueling your lust. There was no doubt that that night had been amazing, and now here Jimin was giving you a chance at feeling that all over again.

Hesitantly, your fingers hovered just above his shoulders before you let them slowly travel down to his chest. You watched his muscles tense under your touch, an oddly vulnerable reaction from a guy like him.

You shouldn’t…

You really shouldn’t…

But why? Because Jimin is a prick that you can barely stand? Because the thought of giving him exactly what he wants makes you want to put yourself in timeout? He stole your car for god’s sake. He annoyed you during class.

But he’s so hot.

How could you be expected to ignore the sharp lines of his jaw? The muscled expanse of his strong shoulders and chest? The deep resonance of his voice? You can’t. Not when all of it is standing right in front of you, shooting you with a gaze that could light you on fire.

It’s not like you’re agreeing to date, you thought. Sex is just sex, and you’re sure Jimin has it with a bunch of other girls all the time. It would barely mean anything to him. It would definitely mean nothing to you.

You felt your hand continue to travel up his skin until it stopped at his neck, waiting for you to make another move. You probably should’ve pushed him away. Told him you weren’t that easy.

But instead your fingers wrapped around his already loosened tie and slowly pulled him closer until his nose was barely an inch away from yours. The words that left your mouth next had a hint of a whisper in them.

“You’re a jerk, Park Jimin.”

That was the closest to a ‘yes’ he was going to get from you. You had to keep some semblance of dignity. The man stole your car after all.

The bathroom reverberated slightly at the sound of a click as Jimin locked the door behind you before you pulled him closer, allowing him to finally catch your lips with his.

Your stomach burst at the feeling of his plump lips gliding against yours in a heated frenzy, one hand holding your cheek steady as the force of his kiss pushed you against the bathroom door. It was clear that the Jimin before you today was eager and impatient, unlike the Jimin that had taken his time that night at the party.

Right now, you couldn’t help but like it.

The hand holding your jaw pulled your face closer to his, deepening the kiss, while his other hand travelled down, brushing delicately against your neck, before grabbing at your waist. In that moment, Jimin’s tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the space with a hunger that only rattled the butterflies flying wildly in your stomach. You felt him trace the inner lining of your lips, caressing your tongue- the action causing you to yelp unexpectedly in his mouth. As surprising as it was, you wanted him to do it again.

Jimin pressed you against the door once again, the rough surface hard against your back, but this time all you could do was pull him into you more, encouraging him to continue dragging his tongue across your mouth. You basked in the heat of his chest so close to yours, the feeling of his hand on your waist, the sensation of his tongue on yours. You couldn’t seem to get enough. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Every passing second had you regretting your decision less and less, no matter how annoyed you still were at him.

Distantly, you felt his middle finger rubbing circles into your waist.

Jimin broke the kiss for a moment, filling the bathroom with heavy pants as the two of you were allowed to catch your breaths. Your fingers hovered over the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to start opening them for the view you knew wouldn’t disappoint.

Jimin, clearly noticing your impatience, let a breathy laugh escape his lips, “relax, kitten. I’ll have you moaning my name like a broken record soon enough.”

That had you scowling, which of course only seemed to amuse Jimin even more. You huffed, knowing your next words would come out weakly before they even left your lips.

“We’ll see about that.”

“You were such a jerk for that.”

You faced the bathroom’s mirror as you finished adjusting your uniform so that it at least partly resembled itself before you had walked into the bathroom. Jimin had, unfortunately, succeeded in his earlier promise and more, which had you too embarrassed to turn around and face said man who you knew was just a few steps behind you. He'd practically taken every ounce of dignity you had left, and you had given it to him on a silver platter.

If only dignity felt as good as him.

As if Jimin had heard your thoughts, he replied, “I made it worth your while, didn’t I?”

You could see him in the corner of the mirror, a sly smile plastered over his face as he peered at you through the mirror the same way you were watching him. It didn’t occur to you until now just how good his face would look with a soap dispenser thrown at it.

To your surprise, he didn’t leave right after he had fixed up his uniform. Instead, he walked over to you before slightly pressing into you, the heat from his chest spreading to your clothed back as he leaned his arms on the sink. You could feel his breath on your neck as his lips brushed against your ear.

“But let’s make one thing clear, kitten,” he breathed as the words caught your attention, his focus intense even though he was still holding your gaze through the mirror.

“The next time you want to go a round, you’ll have to ask for it. No ambiguous sex bathrooms or calling me a jerk to imply you want some. Just you. Asking me. Using your big girl words.”

“Only in your dreams will I want this again, Park Jimin,” you shot back so quickly you didn’t even have time to wonder what the hell ‘sex bathroom’ was supposed to mean. The fact that he thought there was going to be a next time was laughable.

You simply got caught up in him and his looks this time. That’s all. This was not going to be a regular thing. You’d never let that happen.

But Jimin gave you a knowing look, throwing your earlier words back at you, “we’ll see.”

You watched him reach in front of you, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser, before drying the hands he had just washed with them and then throwing them in the trash. Once that was done he finally stepped away from you, walking towards the door of the bathroom.

He glanced at your state momentarily before opening it, “until next time.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

“Jerk,” you muttered, the word starting to gain a familiar spot on your tongue.

After fixing yourself in the mirror one last time you walked out of the bathroom as well. To your surprise, Namjoon immediately ran up to you not a moment later.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he panted, readjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. But then his gaze shifted to behind you, seemingly noticing where you had come from, “why’d you use that bathroom? The only time people use it is for sex, you know that right?”

You turned to look back at the bathroom’s door, only now realising what ‘sex bathroom’ probably meant. Did Jimin think you had brought him in there on purpose? As some kind of ambiguous way of saying you wanted sex?

Oblivious to your thoughts, Namjoon ignored your silence, “whatever. Anyways I came here to tell you that you’re coming home with me today.”

That had you snapping back towards him, “what? No, I just want to go home and sleep off this Ritalin.”

Namjoon was shaking his head before you had even finished the sentence.

“Nope, you’re coming home with me and we’re finishing this math assignment together. Come on.”

“Wha-” He grabbed your arm before you could whine anymore and began dragging you behind him.

“Namjoon!”

“Where have you been?” Taehyung asked frustratedly as he watched his best friend make his way towards him. He had no clue where you had dragged him off, and honestly? He was too mad to care.

Jimin, on the other hand, seemed perfectly untroubled, ignoring Taehyung’s furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms to instead open up his locker. The question floated aimlessly in the deserted hallway for a moment before he huffed loudly.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as Jimin brought a textbook out of his locker, closed it, and then began walking towards the school’s exit.

“Dude?!” He huffed incredulously, trailing Jimin from behind, “I’m talking to you!”

“And I’m ignoring you,” Jimin deadpanned. Taehyung felt himself take several steadying breaths to calm himself down, trying for a less aggressive approach.

“We were having a conversation before.”

“No, you were being tenacious. And I was trying to ignore you.”

“You’re not fine, Jimin!” Taehyung suddenly exploded, secretly thankful that the hallway was deserted, “you think I can’t see it? You think I’ve been blind these past few months?”

That had Jimin turning around, eyebrows furrowed, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t act oblivious,” Taehyung spoke sharply, “you haven’t been sleeping properly. You’ve been pushing me away. You haven’t been okay for months- wait, no. Who am I kidding, you haven’t been okay for the past 3 years. But it’s never been this bad, Jimin. It’s been getting wor-”

“Okay,” Jimin interrupted, holding up a hand, “where is this coming from? I’ve been sleeping fi-”

“I heard you that night. At the party.”

“Wha-”

“When you came back from dropping Y/N off,” Taehyung admitted, eyes softening, “I could hear the nightmares, all of them. It’s never been this bad, Jimin.”

Jimin froze, eyes wide for a moment before he forced out a hesitant laugh, “you sure it was a nightmare? Because nightmares aren’t the only kinds of dreams that can have someone panting li-”

“Stop it,” Taehyung snapped, his voice nearing anger now, “stop using that mask on me. You can be carefree and flirty with anyone else, but we’re best friends. I know you better than that. Don’t insult me.”

Jimin let out a frustrated breath, very much tired of this conversation, “then what do you want, Taehyung?”

“What do I want? I want you to open up to me. Things have been getting worse, and yet the worse they get the more you shut me out. Just talk to me, man. Get some stuff off your chest. You can trust me. You know I’m not one to spill secrets to others.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. Taehyung has always cared about him so much, too much, for so many years. He gave Jimin a place to stay every time his dad kicked him out of the house. He never judged him for the bruises and scars littering his skin. He’s always made himself available for Jimin whenever he needed to vent about how crappy his life truly was.

And he’s continued to help Jimin, even after his father died-

No.

After Jimin murdered him.

Taehyung, of course, knows what went down that night. Maybe not every exact detail, because Jimin had just barely managed to tell him the watered down version of the story before he was a shaking heap of laboured breaths on the floor. But Jimin knew. He knew the look Taehyung had given him after hearing the story.

Taehyung had judged Jimin.

Taehyung had seen Jimin for who he really was that day.

A murderer. A cold-hearted killer that had murdered his own father like it was nothing.

And yet, still, he’s been determined to stay by Jimin’s side. He’s always cared for him despite what his true thoughts of Jimin were. Taehyung’s heart was too big. And Jimin knew he was too undeserving of it.

“As if the therapy wasn’t enough,” he mumbled, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. It was harder to push the mixed emotions starting to strain his chest.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “as if you’re actually going to that.”

But Jimin’s silence had Taehyung’s eyes widening suddenly.

“Wait… You actually went?”

Hiding his hands in his pocket, Jimin nodded, feeling kind of vulnerable admitting that out loud. But he might as well let Taehyung know he was taking it seriously considering his parents were the only reason he could even afford to think about therapy.

To his surprise, a wide grin suddenly replaced Taehyung’s prior frown. He rested a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, “that’s great, dude! I’m really proud of you, seriously. I’m sure it’ll really help.”

Jimin couldn’t meet his eyes.

He hoped Taehyung was right.

Next Chapter...

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