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rinbowaman · 9 months

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ↀOUBLE IIROUBLE - CHAPTER FIVE

Warnings: um...yeah...some non-con stuff turned to consensual. read at your own risk, (still a good read though) you all know how i like a good dark fic...this one aint no different but done worry, it gets good. Not proofread...my excuse this time is bc the power outage.....so...yeah. lol.

@heeshees - you're going to like this one. This will be your chapter ;)

@nikstrange - girl with all those edits you be sending me...you're next. lol. dont worry boo...i got you.

Walking out through the double door exit, you saw the parked car before you the moment you stepped out. Heeseung gets out of the front passenger seat and opens the door to the back for you, flashing you with a warm and closed-mouth smile, greeting you as he cradles you into the back seat before returning to his own beside Heejeong.

“How was work?”

“It was good, thanks.” You faintly returned the smile as you settle in the seat.

Heejeong was driving this time. While you placed your seatbelt on, he turns back to make eye contact and inquires how your day went.

“Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah I did, a little busy but good. Thanks.”

Once Heeseung was settled in his own seat, the brothers both paired a soft smile as Heejeong begins driving off, while Heeseung inquires what you were craving for dinner.

“Anything in particular you want for dinner?”

“Mmm no not really, whatever you guys feel like having is fine.”

“Oh come girl, we’ve been choosing since you moved in. It’s your turn, tell us…” turning around in his seat, while you sat directly behind, Heeseung peeks back at you. Leaning slightly backwards, his shoulder blades hovering over the center console as his head gently grazes over Heejeong’s shoulder, he displays a toothy grin with narrow eyes as he nudges his chin to you. With the hand that was closest to your leg, he reaches over and gently places his palm right on the edge of your kneecap.

“What do you want? Baby….sis?”

You smiled and chuckled nervously at his tone, his words, and the physical contact. Yet the roughness of his hand against your bare skin felt relaxing…and thrilling at the same time. The scent of his and Heejeong’s cologne combined made of the perfect scent as Heejeong’s coolness and the spice of Heeseung’s warmth made up for a pleasant combination.

His touch was stirring something inside you, but who could possibly blame you? Both men were attractive, smart, successful, and kind. The fact that you were becoming their stepsister was a huge bonus considering they were extra nice to you.

Far too….nice…..

Gently rubbing his fingertips along your skin, swaying them back and forth, he snaps you out of your dazed state as his tranquil voice hits you like a ton of bricks. It was too calm, almost sentimental….personal….and even sensual.

“Hmm? Sis? You still thinking about what it is…..we can get you?” His toothy grin transitions to a subtle closed mouth smirk as his narrow eyes widened just a tad, staring right into the depths of your soul through your own peepers.

“Umm….should we get Indian food?”

Smiling once more, Heeseung nods, as did Heejeong.

“That sounds good, Indian food it is! We know a really good spot.” Heejeong remarks as he steers the wheel effortlessly with one hand, while resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped against the window.

……….

The boys didn’t lie, they did know of a good spot. You would have never had thought to try out the street food vendors, but once they introduced you to one, ran by a friendly couple that hailed from the beautiful lands of India, you were amazed at just how sensational the food was.

“Do you know what you want? We can order for you if you like?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Oh I know you will…”

Smirking while speaking lowly, staring while you gazed at the menu hoisted right under the canopy of the food stall, you didn’t catch his response.

“Hmm? Sorry did you say something?”

“Nah, just speaking aloud while reading the menu.” He chuckles as he smiles down at you. His smile, it was so dashing with the way he peered down from his height, scoffing just a tad bit of that smooth and mellow voice as he swipes his tongue over the top row of his teeth. He looked so smooth and handsome, yet bashful at the same time.

“You guys ready?” Heejeong looks back with the same smile, reaching out to you and Heeseung. You both walk up to meet with him at the window, where he continued to dash a devilish smile as he faintly bites down on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, we’re ready. Just get Y/n the same as us.”

“You got it.” Heejeong responds handsomely as he turns back to the gentleman at the window and places the order.

The three of you chose a double benched, picnic table where you sat right next to Heejeong and across from Heeseung.

The owner of the food vendor stall brought out the dishes that Heejeong and Heeseung recommended. The smell was delightful, not to mention, it was a dish that brought you a sense of nostalgia, as you recognize the ingredients. It was a traditional dish that you were fond of, but it had been so long since you last had it.

Chole Kulche, your favorite.

“Do you know what this is?” Heeseung raised a brow and looked at you with an admiring gaze, watching as you looked at the dish.

“Yeah…yeah I do.” You nodded slightly as you faintly chuckled. It was a dish that you enjoyed immensely and had brought out your love for Indian food to begin with.

Chuckling, Heeseung rests his chin in his palm as he props his elbow next to his plate. "Hmm...then tell me princess…what’s the name of it?” he teasingly asks, testing the accuracy of your knowledge and honesty in a playful and flirtatious manner.

“Chole Kulche.” You chuckled back.

Smiling, he maintained sitting upright in his posture while his chin rested against his palm, blinking with satisfaction. “Good girl…you even know how to pronounce it correctly.” He finishes and he winks at you.

The three of you dined and enjoyed the evening with laughter, just like always, with every meal. They kept you entertained with stories of their childhood, which revealed the development of their close bond as they shared their most valuable moments together, which had always reflected the both of them relying on one another as each other’s backbone. You couldn’t deny it, it had made you a bit jealous seeing as you lacked that sibling bond growing up.

“Are you excited for the wedding?” Heeseung asked as he sips out of his cup, his eyes lingering on you while he raises his brows.

“Yeah I’m pretty excited….its good for my mom that she found your guys dad. I was starting to get a little worried since she had been without any companionship for a while.” You remarked seldomly, taking note of the solid gaze that the brothers issued to one another at the mentioning of your mother being with their father, Danny.

You didn’t know what to make of the look, but it didn’t seem to be one of pleasant value, considering it was a stern and dissatisfying look. So much, that it propelled you to return the question right back.

“What about you guys?”

Heeseung looks down at his plate and smirks, while Heejeong spoke for the both of them. “We are thrilled to have you and your mother apart of the family.”

Leaving it at that simple statement, you watched as the two went silent and focused on eating, which left you nodding and not pushing for any more questions, you had sensed that you were breaching a sour subject since it was no secret that they had a troubling bond with their father, that was made evident since the first dinner you had with them. Yet you didn’t know why since their father, Danny, had seemed like a jewel, he was nice to your mother and very caring towards you as a father would be to his own daughter.

You had wondered if they had harbored some sort of grudge, perhaps it had something to do with the divorce of their parents, which you had wondered about but never brought up, and from the looks of it, it was best not to. From experience, you knew that divorce between is never easy to handle, especially for a child, much less two siblings.

“Oh, um…how are Yeon Jin and Sa-ra doing?” You asked, changing the subject rather abruptly, breaking the silent awkwardness.

Both boys looked at you with rather wide eyes, yet their look wasn’t so surprising, just simply stared as if they had no idea what you were referring to until Heeseung finally answered. “They’re good.”

“Are they coming to the wedding?”

“Maybe….we’ll see.” Heeseung takes a bite of his food before grabbing a napkin and wiping his fingers as he takes another glance over towards Heejeong, who faintly, nods.

………..

Once you all had arrived at the house, you opted to go straight to bed, seeing as you had an early morning.

“Good night.”

“Night sweet thing.” Heeseung issues as you walk up the stairs.

“Let us know if you need anything.” Heejeong adds.

With a quick shower, brushing your teeth and changing, you plopped yourself on the bed and sunk into the feeling of being enveloped by the cool silk sheets.

Resting your eyes, your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming text. Gazing at the message that you had just received, you saw that it was from Kurt, who expressed how good it was to see you again.

“…Hmm…I wonder….” You mentally noted as you came up with an idea and messaged back.

…………………………………………………

The morning of the wedding, you aid your mother with her gown and her veil as she takes her bouquet.

“Oh Y/n, you look so pretty, my girl.” Your mother smiles, admiring the simple, floral midi dress you had on. The coloration of fuchsia and violet bounced off the white background of the satin material, it was the perfect dress to adorn for your mother’s wedding, yet you made her swallow her words as you remarked that the beauty, was her.

“Mama, you look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

Walking her over to the alter, behind the grand double doors, you enter through the side as you walk over towards the front row to find your seat, where the boys had already been waiting.

Breaching up, they were seated at the center of the row. Heejeong’s back was facing you, while Heeseung was seated right next to him, facing your direction. Sitting with his legs loosely crossed and his arm resting atop the backing of the seat rest, leaning in as he spoke quietly to Heejeong, you watched as Heeseung suddenly stops his sentence and gawks the very moment he saw you. Heejeong turns and displays the same reaction.

It was the first they had seen you all morning, much less in that dress that had everyone swooning over you as they watched you walk up, front and center. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the way the two dashing young men noted and stared at you made your heart skip a beat. They looked so dashing with their black suit and tie, it was almost hard to breathe at the sight of them side by side.

Standing up, Heejeong walks over to you as you remained at the edge of the row. Extending a hand out to you, you gently hold on as he greets you with a flashing smile.

“Well hello there, don’t you look pretty today.”

Leading you to the center of the row, he seats you in the center, right in between him and Heeseung, where your back was met with the latter’s arm as it remained in place atop the back rest.

“Hi.” He flirtatiously issues as he flashes a grin.

“Hi.” You chuckled back and fluttered your eyelashes. You couldn’t help but respond back in a flirtatious manner, the boy had it coming, yet you figured some harmless and minor teasing wouldn’t be too bad, so long as it remained within limitations considering that you were now family, despite not related by blood.

Taking a deep inhale of your perfume, Heeseung slightly groans as he finally exhales out. “You look soooo….beautiful.” His eyes trail down and sets home on your exposed thighs as your dress slightly rides up from your seated stance.

“Thank you. You both look very handsome; I like your suits.” You chuckled as you set your gaze at the podium where the priest was preparing for the ceremony.

During the ceremony, everyone admired at how beautiful your mother looked with her white gown, and Danny standing across, genuinely smiling in bleak happiness. As they took their vows, you noticed how Heejeong and Heeseung both smiled in your direction. Releasing a chuckle while maintaining your gaze at the bride and groom, you merely used your peripherals to gleam a soft peek at the two boys next to you. Softly placing his hand on your thigh, his thumb gently stroking up and down your skin, Heejeong leans into your ear and whispers, “You would look so pretty in a wedding dress.”

Raising a brow as you gave a nervous smile, you bashfully chuckled quietly as you raised a hand and slightly covered your mouth. It was the most flattering compliment you ever received, too bad it had to come from your stepbrother…at least one of them.

“I don’t think I’d look as pretty as mom though.” You modestly responded back.

“Yeah?.....I beg to differ.” His voice going lower, he whispers right back without missing a beat. His words caused you to look over to him and give a soft smile as your eyes trailed off to the side once you saw his handsome gaze, deeply admiring your face.

Sure, it was obvious to you that your stepbrothers may have thought you were attractive, and they were nice to you, practically at your beck and call if you ever needed them to be, yet still, it was hard to avoid giving in each time they coated you with such kind words. But you knew it was going to have to stop, or at least tone down at some point, and perhaps it will during the banquet….

……………………………

Seated at the beautifully adorned round tables, you noticed the placards resting in front of each chair, drafted in delicate calligraphy were the names of each guest, and just as you had secretly arranged….

“Hey, y/n. I’m finally here, sorry I missed the ceremony, but I’m glad I could make it in now.”

You had invited Kurt, as a manner to introduce him to the family since you had recently decided to give him a chance and accept his offer to begin a relationship.

“Oh no worries, here come and meet my family.” You took him by the hands and brought him over to your mother and Danny first, seeing as your two brothers had excused themselves momentarily from the dining setting and went to the open bar.

“Mom, Danny, this is Kurt. We went to high school together and have recently met up.”

“Oh Kurt! I remember you! My gosh it’s been a while! How are you?” Your mother gasped out as she stood from her seat and greeted Kurt with a welcoming hug.

“I’m good Mrs….um…”

“Lee, it’s Lee.” You whispered.

“Lee! Mrs. Lee.” He laughs out.

“Oh its okay, you can call me *your mom’s name here*. This is Danny, my husband.”

Danny stands and welcomes Kurt with a soft smile and a warm handshake. “It’s so nice to meet you, we’re so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you Sir. Congratulations to you both.” Kurt responds back. Conversing with your mother and Danny, your mother pulls you off to the side faintly and inconspicuously whispers, “are you two dating?” to which you nodded.

“We just started a few days ago, he came back to town and we hit it off really well.” You elaborated as you watched Kurt and Danny converse rather enthusiastically about work and Kurt’s travels.

Walking up were Heeseung and Heejeong. You couldn’t be sure with the frenzy that was crowding around, but it looked as if the two boys had harsh looks on their faces as they took notice of Kurt speaking with Danny.

“Oh gosh….can’t they just let things go for one day and be courteous towards their father? It’s your guy’s wedding day.” You whispered to your mother.

“Shh..I know. Just let it be, Its alright.” Your mother whispers back as she holds your hand and rubs it.

“Boys, come meet Kurt, this is uh....” Danny started, bashfully smiling as he caught himself in a tight spot. Kurt smiled back and extended a hand for a welcoming handshake to Heejeong first.

“Hi there, I’m Kurt.”

Heejeong merely looked down at Kurt’s hand before glaring back up at him….then over to you.

Taking the man’s hand, he shakes it softly, but grips hard. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joey.” Heejeong responds back, faintly smiling.

Kurt remained courteous and a good sport as he extends his hand over to Heeseung, who didn’t look much more pleased than his brother. In fact, the moment Kurt had shifted his hand over, Heeseung had all but then rolled his eyes as he took in Kurt’s introduction with Heejeong.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kurt.” He says once more, smiling as brightly as ever.

Heeseung’s face was tilted off to the side, slightly leaned back with a flare of rough attitude as his eyes glared in your direction. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, displayed thorugh the slightly parted lips, he takes Kurt by the hand and shakes it while introducing himself.

“Nice to mee you…..I’m Ethan.” His voice just as low, if not, lower than Heejeong’s.

“Wow, twins huh? My cousin just gave birth to twins.” Kurt smiles as he attempts to make small talk with your brothers, who remained stagnant with their strict expressions, barely making eye contact with Kurt, instead, they kept glaring over at you.

You figured they were disappointed that you hadn’t told them about Kurt sooner, though it wasn’t your fault, you had only just began dating him a few days ago, a day after when you had texted him, inviting him to the wedding. The next day you had both went out for coffee after your brothers had dropped you off. Kurt was so very kind that you had felt it would be a missed opportunity if you hadn’t taken up his offer. The moment he held your hand across the table at the café was when you knew that that was the chance to take and begin a relationship anew.

Since there was so much to do in preparations for the nuptials, you spent most of the days helping your mother, leaving you no chance to tell your brothers that you now had a boyfriend. Yet you figured that they would eventually welcome Kurt the more they get to know him, assuming that they were displaying a level of a protective nature as brothers.

“Yeah, so…how do you know y/n? Do you guys work with each other?” Heejeong inquires, glancing a wide eyed look over to you before flashing it back to Kurt.

That look…..it was….

“What the Hell was that?”

You mentally noted the outline of Heejeong’s wide eyes and that rather amusing and yet….eerie look that he had just a second ago as he shifted his sights between you and Kurt.

“Oh well….y/n and I went to high school together a while back. I recently just came back to town and met up with her and….well…we hit it off so we just…you know.” Kurt begins to chuckle as he commits a half turn and glances over to you, smiling.

“….No….I don’t know…..enlighten me.” Heejeong spoke as he crosses his arms.

“Oh, um well…we haven’t made it publicly known yet…but um-“

“We’re dating.” You interjected softly. Crossing your own arms, you issued a stern glance of your own back to your two brothers, who both looked at you unpleasantly with stares of anger and disappointment as their countenance reflected their response to your defiance.

“Oh speaking of which, where is Yeon-jin and Sa-ra?” Danny inquires as he looks over to his twin sons.

“They were busy.” Heeseung remarks, crossing his arms, joining the shared stance that you and Heejeong both committed. A battle of harsh stares was exchanged between the three of you.

“Oh boy….it’s going to be an awkward night at the house….” You noted.

…………………………..

The banquet went along well, aside from you and your brothers hardly speaking to one another, yet that didn’t deter from them looking at you nearly the entire time. Only this time, there were no flashing smiles, no chuckles, no affectionate display of gentleness or humor.

“You want a ride home?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah that’ll be nice.” You respond back, not even caring to glance over to your two new brothers.

……………

“They’ll get over it. I can understand being so protective, but this is absurd.”

……………

Dropping you off, you leaned over for a hug, unexpectedly, Kurt places a soft and quick kiss on your lips. Shocked, you chuckled as he bashfully stares at the steering wheel.

“Sorry….I just…I don’t know…” he laughs.

“It’s okay….” You bit your lip as you chuckled once more. Leaning in, you whispered out. “Should we try again?”

Meeting you halfway, your faces reunite in a gentle motion. He kisses you passionately as he reaches up and cups your face as you rest your elbow on the center console.

“See you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Sure.” You smiled as you tapped his chin.

Bidding goodbye, you walked into the house. All the lights were off, signifying the boys were asleep in their rooms, which gave you a sense of relief, since you three had split from the wedding banquet in extreme awkwardness, not even saying goodbye to each other. As you walked upstairs, you revisited the idea of possibly looking for your own place, seeing as the boys may present an issue if they don’t check their attitudes in regards to you dating Kurt. You’re a grown woman, how could they not be realistic about you dating? You could understand about them being slightly concerned, yet you knew Kurt for years, not to mention their attitude was uncalled for. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to bother Kurt, or perhaps he didn’t take notice, if he did, he was at least a good sport about it and never mentioned it to you.

Quietly entering your bedroom, you tossed your jacket on the lounge chair and began to unbuckle your heels.

“So…”

Your breath hitched as you turned around to the deep voice that emerged from behind, it was Heeseung. Standing by the door, camouflaged in the shadows as he was still wearing his suit from the wedding, he propped himself against the wall with his arms crossed, only the sliver sheen of light from outside peering through the window, provided the source of light for you to make out just a tad bit of his frame and face.

“Wh-what are you doing?....” you asked, still recovering from the shocked fright he gave you.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

His attitude irked you, so much that you decided enough was enough.

“Heeseung….what’s your guys deal? I get it we’re family now, but….I’m a grown woman. With that being said, I’m going to start looking for my own place because this is getting out of hand-“

Cutting you off, his sharp tone inhibited you from finishing your thought.

“Come again?....”

“….I said I’m going to be moving out….and that you both need to not act the way you did earlier….”

“Oooh yes….lets talk about that.” Straightening his posture, he uses his foot to push his frame off the wall as he starts walking towards you, with his arms remaining crossed, he leans in….closely, the light glaring through the window closest to you permitted the sight of his face, which had a smirk….but it was far from dashing or handsome, it was rather crazy, sadistic even…..it was twisted and frightening.

“Lets talk….about today…..hmm?.....Princess?”

“…Don’t….dont call me that….in fact, stop with these pet names…”

“Awww…..that right?....BABY?”

Feeling a sudden grab and tug, you felt his hands wrap around your wrist harshly as he pulls you against his body.

“Wh-what are you doing?! Stop!”

“Nuh-uh. Come here, we need to have a little talk, you and I.”

“Stop! Heeseung let go!”

Plastering your frame against his body, he grabs onto your waist and starts to nuzzle his face against the nook of your neck, causing you to gasp as you jumped up from the shocking sensation of his lips sucking on to your skin. Your reaction…didn’t work in your favor, as it allowed him to gain more leverage in pulling you in, leaving no gap between your bodies.

“Stop! Please stop! Stop…l-let go!”

Groaning against your skin, his arm wrapped around you lower back while his hand cuffs your wrist and pins it behind your back, causing your arm to take a bend at the elbow, leaving only your weak arm free to push him away, yet your measly attempts did nothing but pleasantly antagonize him.

“Shhh….come here…..COME HERE.”

Keeping your wrist pinned to your back, he swoops his hand under your thigh and lifts it, fixing it to the hilt of his hip, using brute strength to levitate your body while he simultaneously sits down on the lounge chair, forcing you to sit on his lap, straddling him as he feeds your legs through the loop holes of chair, under the arm rests.

“There….that’s better…..” he calmly speaks against your throat as he brushes his nose upwards, causing you to tilt your head back, exposing your entire neckline.

“Stop! This is wrong! You’re insane, get off!”

Gasping out a breath against the center of your neck, his parted lips gently brushing aginst your skin as he answers.

“Don’t be like that…..haven’t I shown you kindness and affection?....Haven’t I shown just how much I ADORE you?”

“Stop! Let go! There’s something wrong with you!”

“Those are some pretty strong words princess…..are we fighting? Hmm? Tell me…..” placing a hand on your hip, he starts to motion your body to grind against his crotch as he whispers out the last bit. “Are we fighting?”

Kissing your neck and your chest, he takes advantage of the slight plunging neckline your dress displayed and licks the surface of your cleavage. It all felt so….

“Yeah? You like that don’t you? Wanna moan some more?” rubbing your wrist with his thumb, he maintains his hold on you, keeping your strong arm restrained as he increases the momentum of your movements, steering you to move back and forth, up and down, and in circular motions.

“Tell me baby….since we’re fighting…tell me what I gotta do to fix it…tell me.”

Kissing your neck, moving your hips, whispering his dark and deep tone against your neck, sending the vibrations of his vocal chords to travel all the way down to your gut, you whimpered out as the sensual feeling of his harden member pressing against your core, barely covered by the thin fabric of your panties, was starting to create a euphoric friction that you couldn’t help but surrender to.

“Come on baby…tell me what I gotta do to fix it….so we can get along…”

Rubbing his hands and massaging them on your waistline, he finally releases your strong arm, only it was too late….for you.

Already too deep in, your body yearned and craved more, yet your mind remained strong.

“S-stop……oh God please…..stop.”

“No princess….dont think I will……I don’t think you want me to…..that’s okay because that’s what I’m here for…..”

Raising the hem of our dress up, pulling your straps down, he rolls the material of your slinky dress to collect around your waist as he exposes as much of your body as he possibly could. Loosening his tie, he uses one hand to start unbuttoning his shirt, all the while his other hand kept steering your motions at the hip.

“Boyfriend hasn’t touched you yet…has he?” he whispers against your skin. “I can tell…its obvious its been a while since you’ve had it…..”

Kissing your lips, you felt yourself melting into him as his hands kept roaming. He pulled, dipped, pushed, and rolled your hips into motions that the depths of the ocean couldn’t compare to. Succumbing to the overwhelming pleasures of your body uniting with his, you moaned out in shaking pleasure, while speaking the words that still lingered in your mind, though it was barely there as you felt yourself losing after a sensational rush of moisture gushes out from your walls, your clit throbbing with desire. Still...you gave it your last shot....

“Oh my God…please….please don’t….mmm...Heeseung.....ugh.”

“Come on baby….lets get along....hm?..…..let me beat it up and kiss it better for you....let me say sorry to it with my tongue. Let me fix it for you.” releasing a prolonged sigh against your skin, he chuckles out a low and dark tone, as he spoke out again....

“Let me fix it."

CHAPTER 6

Authors Notes: Weeeelllll, shits about to get real from here on out folks. ;)

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii@yangjungwon33 @lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie @prettykia @lprww @they2luv1naia @ellixqz@mimimovv @stvrryhee @moonmoongi @seungjiseyo @csmicvrse @yohanabanana

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kingofbodyrolls · 10 days

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

🐴Chapter summary: You help Yoongi rescuing some neglected and mistreated horses and then, a stranger drops by with some wild information that will alter the course of Jimin and Jungkook’s life.

🐴Chapter title: The Stranger

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

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

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

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

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

🐴Chapter warnings: drama, mention of mistreated horses/animal cruelty, period pain (Jimin tries to ease MC’s pain 🥹), body massage, brief breast play, spanking, a lot of kissing again, Jimin is just being sweet (he’s making up for all the time he was a douche, okay 😭)

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 14.1k

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

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “The Stranger” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: some parts of this chapter was very hard to write, but I hope it’s still okay! This chapter is very much a transition chapter lol, yes, important stuff happens, but yeah, you’ll see. Also, thank you guys so much for reading this story, for sticking with it 😭 It means a lot to me, and also every time you guys comment (some of you who have commented in the beginning, but stopped— are you okay? I’ve seen you like the rest of the chapters, but damn, I really get into my head, thinking you hate it now, and that’s why you stopped commenting, lol. But I also know that some of you are busy with life, work and studying, which is good), or leave me asks, like talking about the story in general or the characters, it’s been so much fun ❣️ Again, I want to say sorry, because I have mixed feelings about this chapter. It might seem slightly rushed (which it is), and it might shock you to know that this was always planned. But I hope it turned out okay in the end! I promise that next chapter is one that YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m a done with writing the story 🥳 I just finished it and I’m feeling very emotional, like the ending 😭😭😭 (it’s happy tears). So that means that I’ll drop the remaining chapters as I see fit and earlier than scheduled (probably with 24 hours between them). I hope that you’ll still comment, reblog, like, give kudos and generally just interact, because I’m afraid that you won’t when I post the chapters closer together. But I also know some people are waiting to read until the whole series is done. Anyway, I want to thank you for joining me on the very emotional roller coaster ride 💖

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

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

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

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“Yes that strangerBrings mystery into your life” ‘The Stranger’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Amidst the lingering warmth of a delightful dinner shared among friends, you, Yoongi, Jimin, and Soo-ah gather around the kitchen sink, the clatter of dishes and laughter filling the air as you work together to tidy up and stow away the remnants of the evening’s feast.

Jimin shuttles tirelessly between the bustling kitchen and the dining room, bearing an array of steaming pots and pans brimming with savory delights, while Soo-ah efficiently transfers the culinary treasures into containers destined for the fridge or freezer. The kitchen hums with activity as Jimin and Jungkook’s culinary prowess shines through once again, ensuring an ample supply of delicious fare for all present.

At the sink’s edge stands you and Yoongi, a dynamic duo in the post-dinner cleanup brigade. Your hands deftly wield suds and scrubbers, coaxing remnants of culinary delight from plates and utensils, while Yoongi’s skilled hands swoop in to dry or load the dishwasher with practiced precision. Together, you orchestrate a symphony of cleanliness, ensuring that each piece finds its place in the grand choreography of post-meal tidying.

Amidst the clatter of dishes and the rhythm of your shared tasks, a lively exchange of banter ensues between you and Yoongi, punctuated by shared laughter and good-natured chuckles.

At times, Jimin saunters over to your side, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down your back and lingering provocatively on your curves, eliciting a delicious shiver that dances along your spine. With a mischievous grin, he retreats as swiftly as he arrived, returning to his culinary duties alongside Soo-ah, leaving you to catch your breath amidst the lingering sensation of his teasing touch.

As Yoongi leans in closer, a flicker of curiosity dances in your eyes, prompting you to meet his gaze with a quizzical expression. With a subtle tilt of your head, you offer a small smile, your hands deftly maneuvering a plate beneath the cascading water as you await his next move with intrigued anticipation.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Yoongi starts, leaning closer into your side with a conspiratorial air, his voice dropping to a low murmur meant for your ears only. A playful glint dances in his eyes as a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “But you’ve got a little something in your hair,” he reveals, gesturing subtly to the stray wisps of hay that have nestled themselves into your locks, punctuating his observation with light-hearted amusement.

A rush of fear and embarrassment floods your wide eyes, igniting a fiery blush that paints your cheeks and neck in a kaleidoscope of pink hues, accentuated by the lingering traces of purple marks adorning your skin.

Yoongi’s hand ascends to your hair, deftly plucking out a few stray strands of hay, and a wave of mortification washes over you at the sight of the offending debris caught in his grasp. Across the kitchen, Jimin catches a glimpse of the scene, his chuckle floating through the air like a whispered secret before he disappears from view, leaving you to contend with the embarrassment in the aftermath.

“Did you have a good roll in the hay?” Yoongi’s voice rings with playful amusement, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he teases you, a giggle bubbling forth at the sight of your bemused expression.

As the water ceases its flow, you stand there, arms crossed beneath your chest, a sudden realization dawning upon you. The memory of your not-so-silent escapade in the stables floods your mind, causing a flush to rise to your cheeks and a hint of embarrassment to flicker in your eyes.

He continues to pluck away the stubborn remnants of hay from your hair, and a shared laughter bubbles forth between you, mingling with the lingering traces of embarrassment. Despite the slight blush staining your cheeks, the infectious joy in Yoongi's laughter draws out your own.

“You’re welcome by the way,” he quips, flashing you a playful wink as he grabs a bowl to dry with the towel, his gesture laced with a hint of mischief.

The weight of gratitude settles upon you as you fully grasp his unspoken act of rescue, sparing you and Jimin from a potentially embarrassing discovery. Meeting his gaze, you convey your heartfelt appreciation. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words carrying the weight of unspoken understanding and relief.

His smile widens, punctuated by a playful swat with the towel against your arm. “No biggie,” he reassures with a casual shrug, his easy going demeanor underscoring the depth of his friendship and the simplicity of his gesture.

Soo-ah pivots, her gaze locking onto you with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “What are you talking about?” she inquires, her voice tinged with a hint of anticipation, as if sensing that the conversation holds secrets yet to be revealed.

With the food safely stowed away in the fridge and freezer, Soo-ah strides over to Yoongi’s side, her eagerness to lend a hand evident as she joins him in the task of drying the dishes you’ve diligently cleaned.

You shake your head, a silent plea to Yoongi not to reveal the details, preferring to keep the incident in the hay room of the stables under wraps. “We’re talking about the hay room in the stables,” yet, Yoongi’s words cut through the silence, laying bare the topic of conversation before Soo-ah.

Your eyes widen in a silent plea, urging Yoongi to respect your wish for discretion, but when he divulges the topic anyway, you react instinctively. With a stern hit to his arm, he recoils with an audible “ouch,” a testament to the force of your reproach and the gravity of the situation at hand.

“What about it?” Soo-ah’s question hangs in the air, her eyes alight with curiosity, a spark of intrigue dancing within their depths as she awaits your response, poised on the edge of anticipation.

“It’s a popular spot,” Yoongi remarks, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, “for hooking up.”

A rosy blush spreads across her cheeks as she turns to you, her laughter bubbling forth like an irrepressible fountain. “Is that why you have hay in your hair?” she quips, the realization dawning on her with a delightful twinkle in her eyes.

You grumble and huff, unable to hide your exasperation. “Has everyone noticed?” you grouse, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration creeping over you.

Jimin returns to the kitchen at precisely this moment, his keen eyes catching sight of your discontented demeanor. Without hesitation, he crosses the room to your side, his hand gently finding its place on your hips as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your neck, his comforting presence a soothing balm to your unsettled emotions.

You pivot to meet your boyfriend's gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement playing across your features. “Did you know I had hay in my hair?” you inquire, a hint of playful accusation lacing your words as you await his response.

His eyes flicker to your hair, and a burst of laughter escapes his lips, mirroring the reaction of Soo-ah and Yoongi. With a gentle pat on your head, his hand traces a tender path down your face, delicately caressing your cheeks before coming to rest on your bottom lip. “I had no idea,” he confesses softly, his tone tinged with regret.

“But you still look stunning, even with a little hay in your hair,” he murmurs, drawing you close as he presses his lips to yours. In that moment, all traces of anger and embarrassment melt away, replaced by the warmth and reassurance of his affectionate embrace. The kiss is deep and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.

Beside you, Yoongi’s suppressed snickers fill the air.

“If you two scoot over a bit, I can take care of the rest,” Yoongi suggests, his chuckle carrying a hint of amusement as you and Jimin gladly make room for him in front of the sink.

You gaze up at Jimin’s face, noticing the adorable scatter of moles across his features, adding to his irresistible charm. “Would you like to join me for a bath?” you propose, a playful twinkle in your eye as you extend the invitation.

He hums softly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and desire. In that moment, you can feel the depth of his love radiating from him, intertwined with a hint of excitement at your proposal. “Absolutely,” he responds, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “I’d love nothing more than to pamper you, scrub your skin and wash your hair.”

A grateful smile graces your lips as you reflect on the depth of your appreciation for him and all the ways he shows his care. The thought of him eagerly offering to wash your hair and tend to your body fills you with a profound sense of gratitude, a feeling you’ve never experienced with any previous partner.

Soo-ah’s gasp beside Yoongi prompts a swift turn of her head towards you and Jimin, her eyes widening in disbelief. “He washes your hair for you?” She exclaims, her voice tinged with both surprise and admiration. The sight of her puppy-dog eyes and genuine happiness paints a poignant picture, her wistful longing palpable as she expresses her heartfelt sentiment. “That’s absolutely sweet,” she continues, her words laced with a hint of envy. “I wish I had a boyfriend like that, or even just a boyfriend at all.”

You offer Soo-ah a compassionate smile, your heart swelling with gratitude for Jimin and the abundance of love he showers upon you. His arms envelop you in a tender embrace, his words a soothing melody that resonates deep within your soul. “Anything for my love,” he murmurs, his voice infused with sincerity and devotion, reaffirming the depth of his affection for you.

You tenderly press your lips to his, intertwining your fingers with his as you lead him away from the kitchen and into the bathroom. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you lock eyes with him, pouring your heart out in a soft declaration of love. “I love you so much, Jimin,” you whisper, sealing your words with another lingering kiss. With playful excitement, you gently guide him into the bathroom, a chorus of smiles and giggles filling the air as you close the door behind you, cocooned in the warmth of your love for each other.

Rumors have been swirling around town lately, particularly at the local bar, alleging mistreatment of horses at a neighboring farm—an unsettling notion that strikes a chord deep within Yoongi. Compounding his concern is the fact that some of these horses are the very ones you’ve spent countless hours training. Feeling a sense of responsibility and urgency, he grapples with the realization that action must be taken, though the path forward remains unclear.

Deep in contemplation, Yoongi grips his beer tightly, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily upon him. With a determined resolve, he sets his drink down on the bar and strides purposefully out of the building, his steps carrying him through the winding streets and straight to the doors of the police station. There, he hopes to find allies in his quest to liberate the mistreated horses from the clutches of their neglectful owner.

Stepping into the dimly lit confines of the police station, Yoongi's determination radiates from every fiber of his being as he seeks out an officer, his plea for assistance delivered with earnest conviction. Yet, his hopes are dashed when he learns that without concrete evidence against the horse's abuser, the hands of the law are tied. Disheartened but undeterred, he offers a begrudging nod of gratitude to the officers before turning on his heels and trudging out of the building, the weight of his disappointment heavy upon his shoulders as he makes his way back to his truck.

As darkness cloaks the landscape, casting shadows that dance across his determined features, Yoongi’s mind churns with purpose. The officer’s words echo in his mind—a relentless reminder of the need for concrete evidence to bring justice to the abuser of these innocent animals. With a determined resolve, he inserts the key into the ignition, igniting the engine with a determined hum as he steers his car back towards Bell Ranch. But just as he nears the familiar route, he makes a split-second decision, veering off the path towards the ranch of the despicable man he's heard so much about. If only he had been aware when he sold some of your horses to him—had he known, he would never have allowed it to happen. Now, knowing that Holly, one of those horses, is among the mistreated, his heart weighs heavy with regret and anger. Unable to stand idly by while these animals suffer, Yoongi’s sense of duty propels him forward, his resolve unyielding in the face of injustice.

With a keen sense of caution, Yoongi refrains from driving directly to the ranch—after all, he’s no fool. Instead, he parks his car discreetly further down the road, determined not to arouse any suspicion. With his camera firmly gripped in his hand, he embarks on the remaining journey to the ranch on foot, each step a calculated move towards uncovering the truth hidden within its confines.

Indeed, this clandestine excursion had been meticulously plotted long before his visit to the police station—a testament to Yoongi’s unwavering determination to seek justice for the mistreated animals. With a resigned acceptance of the limitations of official channels, he had braced himself for the realization that the burden of action rested squarely upon his own shoulders.

As Yoongi stealthily approaches, his gaze locks onto the scene before him—a chilling image of cruelty unfolding right before his eyes. There stands the man, lazily lounging one of the horses, its fur matted and cut short along its legs, bearing silent witness to its mistreatment. His blood boils at the sight, a surge of empathy coursing through him for the suffering animal. In the man’s hand, a cruel whip glints in the dim light, its menacing presence a stark reminder of the pain and coercion inflicted upon the helpless creature to force it to perform.

Despite the rising nausea in his gut, Yoongi steels himself and raises his camera, capturing the harrowing scene before him in a series of haunting images. Every click of the shutter serves as a painful reminder of the injustice unfolding before his eyes. His heart aches with the urge to intervene, to rescue the suffering horse from its tormentor’s grasp. The crack of the whip and the horse’s pained whine fuel his righteous indignation, threatening to shatter his resolve as he fights the urge to rush forward and confront the evil man.

Yet, as much as he longs to intervene, a nagging sense of caution restrains him—instinctively aware of the potential repercussions should he act impulsively. With a heavy heart, he resigns himself to the agonizing reality that capturing evidence through his camera lens is the safer course of action, despite the torment it inflicts upon his soul. Each click of the shutter serves as a solemn vow to seek justice for the abused horse, even as it tears at the very fabric of his being.

With a heavy heart, he ventures deeper into the heart of the ranch, his steps echoing in the dimly lit stables. Each stall he passes reveals a new horror—every horse bearing the cruel scars of neglect, their once majestic forms now reduced to emaciated shadows of their former selves. Anguish courses through him as he stands witness to their suffering, his fists clenching in futile rage.

As he continues down the aisle, his gaze falls upon Holly—a wave of devastation washing over him at the sight of his old friend. She stands before him, a mere shell of her former self, her once graceful frame now reduced to a skeletal silhouette. Her hooves are overgrown, her coat matted and unkempt, a testament to the neglect she has endured. His hand trembles as he reaches out to comfort her, but she flinches away from his touch, a painful reminder of the betrayal she has suffered. A single tear escapes his eye, tracing a path down his cheek as he stands helplessly before her, consumed by a sense of despair.

His heart plummets like a stone to the floor, shattered by the heartbreaking realization that Holly no longer seems to recognize him. Her gaze is distant, devoid of the spark of recognition that once lit up her eyes, and the pain cuts deep into his chest like a knife. With a heavy heart, he raises his camera, each snapshot a painful reminder of the profound loss he feels inside. Despite the searing ache that grips his soul, he is determined to capture every detail of her suffering, a silent vow to stand witness to the injustices inflicted upon her.

With a heavy heart and a mind fraught with determination, he concludes that the harrowing scenes he's documented are evidence enough to expose the horrors endured by these innocent creatures. However, his mission is far from over—he must now navigate the treacherous path back to his car without drawing the attention of the ranch's owner or his cronies. Every step he takes is laden with tension, every rustle of leaves a potential threat, as he maneuvers through the shadows, his heart pounding with the urgency of his mission.

With his camera clutched tightly in his hand, Yoongi sprints back to his truck, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Each breath comes in ragged gasps as he propels himself forward, his palms slick with sweat, the weight of his mission bearing down upon him like a crushing weight.

Finally reaching his truck, he flings open the door and slides inside, the engine roaring to life beneath him as he tears away from the ranch in a whirlwind of desperation. As the miles blur past, his mind reels with the stark reality of what he has witnessed—the sheer magnitude of suffering far surpassing anything he had ever imagined.

The image of Holly, once vibrant and full of life, now reduced to a mere shadow of herself, haunts him relentlessly. Anguish gnaws at his soul as he grapples with the knowledge that he cannot stand idly by while such atrocities continue to unfold.

Determined to be the voice for those who cannot speak for themselves, Yoongi vows to take action—to put an end to the cycle of cruelty and neglect that plagues these innocent creatures.

As he pulls into the yard, Yoongi’s gaze scans the surroundings, his heart skipping a beat when he catches sight of you—your figure moving gracefully across the yard, a beacon of warmth and familiarity amidst the darkness of his thoughts. With a sense of urgency, he calls out to you, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night, and watches as you turn towards him, your steps quickening as you close the distance between you.

“What are you doing out so late, Yoon?” you inquire, a radiant smile gracing your lips, your eyes alight with a joy that Yoongi finds utterly captivating. In that moment, he can’t help but marvel at the sheer happiness radiating from you—more vibrant and infectious than he's seen in a long while. It dawns on him that maybe Jimin’s presence in your life has brought about this newfound joy, and despite any personal struggles he may have, he's genuinely thrilled to see you flourishing in the embrace of love.

His gaze snaps up to meet yours, a flicker of intensity dancing in his eyes. “Just taking some pictures,” he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency as he raises his camera, its presence a tangible reminder of the weighty mission he's undertaken. Intrigued, you follow his gesture, your eyes locking onto the camera in his hand, curiosity sparking within you as you ponder the significance behind his late-night photography session.

You reach out for it, your hand extending eagerly as you inquire, “Can I see?” But in your eagerness, you bypass the customary waiting for his response, instead seizing the camera from his grasp with an impulsive determination. With practiced ease, you power it on, your fingers deftly navigating through the digital gallery of images, each click of the button revealing another glimpse into the horrorful world he’s captured through his lens.

He watches intently as your eyes widen in shock and a deep furrow creases your brow, your reaction a visceral testament to the gravity of the images before you. Each flicker of discomfort that crosses your features is like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of the suffering he’s witnessed and the burden he now shares with you. Despite his desire to shield you from such distressing sights, he remains steadfast.

“What’s this?” you inquire, your voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and unease as you return the camera to his outstretched hand. The tremor in your voice doesn’t escape his notice, a stark indication of the emotional toll wrought by the distressing images you've just been confronted with. In that moment, he’s acutely aware of the weight of his actions, grappling with the realization that his quest for justice has inadvertently exposed you to a world of suffering that he would have shielded you from if he could.

“I heard about this guy mistreating his horses, so I went to take a look for myself,” he explains, his voice tinged with a potent mix of frustration and righteous indignation. Each word carries the weight of his emotions, his tone a reflection of the deep-seated anger and despair that churn within him. “It’s horrible,” he concludes, his voice heavy with the weight of the injustices he's witnessed, his resolve hardened by the stark reality of the situation.

“We have to do something about it!” you declare, your voice ringing with a resolute determination that commands attention. As you speak, a fierce resolve animates your features, your eyes ablaze with an unwavering commitment to righting the wrongs you've just borne witness to. The subtle set of your lips into a firm line only serves to underscore the steely resolve that propels your words forward, a silent vow to take action in the face of injustice.

He scuffs, the sound underscored by a palpable frustration that permeates the air. “That’s why I gathered evidence,” he admits, his words carrying the weight of his determination and the gravity of the situation they find themselves in.

“No, Yoongi. We can’t wait any longer. We have to save the horses, now,” you implore, your voice laced with urgency and a hint of desperation. With every word, you convey a sense of urgency that underscores the dire need for immediate action. Your plea carries the weight of compassion and empathy, a heartfelt call to arms in defense of the innocent creatures suffering at the hands of cruelty.

He gapes at you in disbelief, grappling with the gravity of your suggestion. The intensity of your conviction leaves him momentarily stunned—of course he wants to save the horses, but what you’re proposing borders on the edge of legality. The weight of the potential consequences looms heavy in his mind, a sobering reminder of the risks they would be undertaking.

“I don’t care about the potential repercussions. Those poor horses need us,” you declare with unwavering determination, your voice resonating with an urgency that brooks no argument. With each word, you convey a sense of righteous indignation and compassion, compelling him to action with the sheer force of your conviction. Your plea reverberates in the air, a rallying cry that demands immediate attention and action.

“Holly is one of the horses,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with defeat, a tinge of sorrow coloring his words. With a resigned gesture, he kicks at the stones scattered across the dirt, the sound echoing the weight of his disappointment and anguish. In that simple statement lies a world of pain and regret, as he grapples with the harsh reality of seeing his beloved horse subjected to such cruelty.

“What the fuck are we waiting for?” You exclaim, your frustration palpable as you confront him with a fierce intensity. It’s clear that you've reached your limit with his indecision, and with a swift motion, you deftly snatch the keys from his hand. Without hesitation, you move past him, swinging open the driver’s door and sliding behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life under your command. “Get in, Yoongi,” you command, your tone leaving no room for argument as you signal your unwavering determination to take action.

You sound furious, and maybe rightfully so—he feels the same anger coursing through his veins. Damn it, he wants to save them too. With a heavy heart, he slides into the passenger seat, yielding to your determination as you take control of the wheel. As you speed back towards the ranch, his directions guide your path, a silent acknowledgment of the shared resolve burning within both of you to make a difference.

The drive is brief, but each passing moment feels weighted with anticipation and purpose. He directs you to park in the very same spot where he had stopped earlier, a silent reminder of the urgency and gravity of the mission ahead. As you bring the vehicle to a halt, the air crackles with tension.

You both leap out of the truck, propelled by a shared sense of urgency and purpose, and advance towards the ranch shrouded in darkness. Despite the obscurity that surrounds you, you navigate effortlessly towards the stables, your determination cutting through the night like a beacon. With a heavy heart, he leads you to Holly’s stall, where he reveals the heartbreaking sight of her current condition. As you lay eyes on her, a deep furrow forms on your brow, your expression mirroring the anguish and sorrow that grips your soul at the sight of her suffering.

With a determined resolve, Yoongi cautiously swings open the stall door, his movements deliberate as he beckons Holly to approach him in the enveloping darkness. The dimness cloaks your actions, a deliberate choice to avoid drawing unwanted attention to your clandestine mission. In the shadows, you both stand poised, silently willing Holly to trust you amidst the palpable tension that hangs thick in the air.

“Come on, girl,” Yoongi murmurs in a soothing tone, his voice a gentle melody cutting through the stillness of the night as he endeavors to coax Holly out of her stall. Despite his best efforts, however, the bond between them appears strained, the connection faltering in the face of Holly's evident apprehension. Each whispered plea hangs in the air, an earnest plea for trust and understanding in the midst of uncertainty.

Suddenly, the harsh glare of light floods the stable, casting stark shadows that betray your presence in the otherwise darkened space. In that moment, a shared realization dawns upon both of you—an unspoken acknowledgment that your covert mission has been compromised. The abrupt illumination serves as an ominous harbinger of trouble, a stark reminder that your clandestine efforts to rescue Holly have been uncovered, plunging you both into a perilous predicament.

You move closer to Yoongi, seeking solace and solidarity in the face of impending danger. Side by side, you stand united in front of Holly, a silent bastion of strength amidst the encroaching threat. As the man draws nearer, the air crackles with tension, but you refuse to falter, bolstered by the unspoken determination to protect each other and the helpless creature before you.

“Who’s there?” his voice cuts through the tense silence, laden with an ominous weight that sends shivers down your spine. Each heavy footstep reverberates ominously, signaling his approach with a menacing cadence. As he draws closer to Holly's stall, the air hangs heavy with anticipation, the imminent confrontation looming like a shadowy specter. With bated breath, you brace yourselves for the inevitable encounter.

“What are you two doing here?” He demands, his voice a sharp echo slicing through the tension-laden air. His gaze pierces through you with a mixture of confusion and displeasure, each furrowed brow and narrowed eye conveying his suspicion and disdain. In that moment, you feel the weight of his scrutiny bearing down upon you, as if every syllable is a challenge that demands an answer—a challenge you must navigate with caution and cunning.

You seize Yoongi’s hand with a fierce intensity, your grip conveying a tidal wave of pent-up anger that courses through your palm like a surge of electricity, pulsating with raw emotion. In that charged moment, he can feel the seething rage reverberating within you, mirroring the tumultuous turmoil that churns within his own being. It’s as if the palpable fury radiating from your touch connects you both in a shared symphony of indignation, binding you together in defiance against the injustice unfolding before you.

“This is cruelty!” Your voice rings out, sharp and resolute, carrying the weight of your indignation like a battle cry echoing through the stillness of the night. With a pointed gesture, you direct the man’s attention towards Holly, your anger etched in every line of your face.

The man scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips like a venomous taunt that pierces through the solemn air, leaving a bitter taste in its wake. Your reaction is visceral, a wince born of both frustration and disgust, as you recoil from the callousness of his response.

“We are taking the horses,” Yoongi declares, his voice cutting through the tension like a clarion call, his stance resolute as he steps protectively in front of you. In that defiant gesture, he embodies a steadfast determination to stand against injustice, his words echoing with unwavering resolve amidst the turmoil of the moment. Beside him, you feel a surge of solidarity, your spirits bolstered by his unwavering courage in the face of adversity.

“You’re stealing them?” The man’s voice crackles with incredulity, his tone laced with a volatile mix of irritation and anger that threatens to erupt like a smoldering volcano. His accusatory gaze pierces through the darkness, locking onto Yoongi with a searing intensity that demands an explanation.

“No. We’re saving them,” you declare with unwavering conviction, your voice ringing out with a resolute clarity that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of righteousness. With your chest thrust forward and your head held high, you exude a palpable aura of strength and determination, commanding respect in the face of adversity. In that defiant stance, he finds himself admiring your unwavering resolve, your steadfast commitment to standing tall in defense of what you believe is right, no matter the cost.

“That sounds like stealing to me,” he scoffs, his laughter bitter and laden with contempt, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. With a cynical twist of his lips, he retrieves his phone, his intentions clear as he prepares to summon the authorities. Yoongi can sense the impending threat, the urgency of the moment weighing heavily upon him as he bristles with anticipation, poised for whatever comes next.

You both watch in dismay as he dials the police, the harsh reality sinking in as he locks the stall door, trapping you both inside with no means of escape. The metallic clang of the lock reverberates through the stillness of the night, a chilling reminder of your precarious situation. In that confined space, tension hangs thick in the air, your hearts pounding in unison with the weight of impending consequences bearing down upon you.

“The police are on their way now,” he chuckles with a menacing edge, his voice dripping with satisfaction at having cornered you in this precarious predicament.

Aware of the imminent danger looming over both of you, Yoongi’s mind races with desperate determination. Amidst the chaos, a flicker of hope ignites within him as he recalls the evidence stored safely in his truck—undeniable proof of the atrocities witnessed tonight. If only he could reach it in time, if only he could present it to the authorities when they arrive. With every fiber of his being, he clings to this glimmer of optimism, his resolve steeling him against the encroaching darkness as he plots his next move, knowing that redemption lies just beyond his grasp.

He watches intently as you swiftly retrieve your phone, fingers dancing across the screen with purposeful urgency. In that moment, a wave of apprehension washes over him, a silent understanding dawning as he realizes you're likely reaching out to Jimin for help.

As the tense minutes stretch on, Yoongi’s heart aches with a profound sense of helplessness. With Holly cowering in the corner, her fear palpable in the dimly lit stall, a surge of indignation courses through him. The sight of her trembling form ignites a fierce determination within him to protect her at all costs. Yet, the sinister presence of the man blocking your escape serves as a stark reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourselves in. Trapped within the confines of the stall, Yoongi’s mind races with fervent desperation, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. Every passing second feels like an eternity, each beat of his heart a silent plea for deliverance from this harrowing ordeal.

As the heavy wooden doors of the stables swing open, revealing the ominous silhouette of two officers, a surge of mixed emotions washes over Yoongi. Among them stands the familiar face of the officer he had spoken to earlier in the night, recognition flickering in his gaze as it falls upon Yoongi. Caught off guard by the unexpected reunion, Yoongi's lips curve into a lopsided smile, a nervous habit betraying his attempt at nonchalance as he absently scratches his head.

“What seems to be the problem?” The other officer, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade, directs his inquiry at the man standing before them.

“These two here are trying to steal my horses,” the man’s accusation slices through the tension like a blade, his voice dripping with venom as he points an accusatory finger at Yoongi and you.

Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on the officers, observing their scrutiny as they shift their attention between you and the hurt horses. The weight of their words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation.

“You’re aware that theft is a punishable offense, aren’t you?” Their inquiry is not just a question but a warning, echoing with the imminent threat of consequences.

“We’re obliged to bring you in,” the other officer asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he delivers the unwelcome verdict.

In a sudden, welcomed twist, Jimin strides into the stable with a confident swagger, a smile lighting up his face as he carries Yoongi’s camera in his hand, carrying the hope and evidence that you need.

“Officers, hold on a moment,” Jimin interjects, his voice carrying a firm but composed tone as he approaches them. The man’s gaze shifts from Jimin to you, his expression sour and unsettling, a silent testament to his apprehension. Yoongi senses the tension escalating, his concern growing with each passing second.

“You need to see this. It’s undeniable proof of what’s happening here,” Jimin urges, extending the camera to the police officers. With a sense of urgency, they take the camera and begin to review the images, their expressions shifting as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

Returning the camera to Jimin, Yoongi observes as Jimin casts a tender glance your way, his smile a silent reassurance. The officers then redirect their attention to the man, their expressions stern. “This constitutes animal cruelty, which is a serious offense,” they assert firmly.

“Please come with us,” one of the officers requests firmly, reaching for the man, who begins to resist, his actions reflecting his desperation to evade justice.

“What about them? They were trying to steal my horses!” He bellows in panic, his voice echoing in the dimly lit barn as the officers firmly escort him out, his frantic protests fading into the night.

“They haven’t stolen anything yet,” one of the officers declares, his voice cutting through the tense air like a beacon of reason, a reassuring nod directed at Yoongi, Jimin, and you.

Relief washes over Yoongi like a cool breeze on a scorching day. His hand instinctively finds its way through his hair, fingers threading through strands as if to anchor himself in the moment. A wave of adrenaline slowly recedes, leaving behind a sense of calm amidst the storm. That was too close for comfort.

He observes as you cast a tender glance at Jimin, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you. With purposeful steps, Jimin approaches, swinging open the stall door to free you both. Without hesitation, you leap into the waiting arms of your boyfriend, seeking solace and security in his embrace.

“Did you bring the trailer?” You inquire of Jimin, a grin lighting up your features as you lean in for a swift yet affectionate kiss.

“Of course,” Jimin chuckles, his hands settling on your hips reassuringly.

Yoongi gazes at both of you, a hint of confusion knitting his brows together.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi’s voice carries a tone of bewilderment as he directs his gaze between you and Jimin, his curiosity piqued.

“She asked me to bring the horse trailer so we could take the horses home with us,” Jimin’s words sink in, and Yoongi’s eyes widen with understanding, a glimmer of admiration flickering within them. As he turns to you, a silent gratitude fills the air, acknowledging your quick wit and resourcefulness.

“Let’s bring Holly home,” you declare with determination, your smile radiant as you clasp Jimin’s hand in gratitude for his timely assistance. As you envelop your boyfriend in a warm embrace, Yoongi redirects his attention to Holly, patiently coaxing her out of the stall. Though it requires effort, his perseverance prevails, and soon Holly steps out into the dim light of the stable, her eyes reflecting a newfound hope.

He’s overjoyed by the favorable outcome, relieved that you and Jimin intervened to rescue him and the poor horses. And, goodness, you should be elated that the police officers didn’t haul your asses away for trespassing.

Every damn thing is agony. You’ve exhausted every remedy in your arsenal. You attempted riding, hoping movement might ease the ache.

No dice.

Ice and heat packs offered fleeting relief at best. But the pain? Unyielding.

It’s a relentless torment, and you’re at your wits’ end.

Thus, you’ve sought solace in Jimin’s bedroom—or is it yours by now? After spending countless nights here, the lines blur, leaving you uncertain of where one space ends and the other begins.

You push open the door, your weary frame yearning for the comfort of the bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, your body meets it with a resounding thud, a symphony of exhaustion echoing through the room as you bury your face into the softness of the sheets, emitting a muffled groan of discomfort.

The sheets envelop you in their soft embrace, a familiar comfort that whispers tales of shared moments with Jimin – cuddles, tender kisses trailing along your neck. Infused with his signature musky scent, now mingled with your own, they offer solace to your weary mind, lulling your senses into a state of tranquility as you surrender to their gentle caress.

You draw your knees up to your chest, cocooning yourself in a protective embrace, silently pleading for the relentless pain to subside – a relentless companion that has plagued your entire day. In moments like these, you question how you manage to accomplish anything amidst this unyielding torment. Yet, surrendering to it is not an option; you refuse to grant the pain dominion over your spirit. Sickness is an unwelcome adversary, casting you into a disheartening abyss of vulnerability, a place you rarely visit.

You shut your eyes tightly, yearning for the solace of sleep to envelop you, if only to grant respite from the relentless ache gnawing at your stomach. The unwelcome arrival of your period compounds your discomfort, adding insult to injury. Oh, how you despise this monthly intrusion, an unwelcome visitor overstaying its welcome.

The door whispers open, and even before the hinges complete their eerie symphony, you sense his presence—Jimin, your ever-watchful guardian, silently slipping into the room. His quiet footsteps echo with a tenderness that speaks volumes, a familiar comfort that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

As the mattress yields to his weight, a gentle hand finds its place atop your hip bone, a soothing anchor in the storm of your discomfort. His voice, a soft melody of concern, washes over you like a gentle wave, carrying with it a warmth that beckons you to surrender to its embrace, “What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s just my period,” you murmur, the words heavy with discomfort, as you wrap your arms around yourself in a silent attempt to ease the ache.

His hand glides up your body, a comforting warmth that sends delicate shivers down your spine. “Let me help,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You whimper softly at his touch, feeling the tension in your body begin to ease as his hand settles gently on your stomach. Drawing you closer, he envelops you in his strong, reassuring embrace, his warmth seeping into your bones. The scent of his skin fills your senses, intoxicating and familiar, as he nestles his head against your neck, his warm breath caressing your earlobe, sending delicious shivers down your spine. With tender care, his hand applies a gentle pressure to your stomach, offering comfort in the midst of your discomfort.

“Is this alright?” He murmurs softly, drawing himself nearer, his presence enveloping you completely. You sense every contour of his form, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the rhythmic thud of his heart, his warmth seeping into your skin. Your senses are heightened, acutely aware of his closeness, from the gentle pressure of his body to the tantalizing proximity of his hips against yours, with his dick pressing on your ass. With every inch of him pressed against you, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a deep-seated longing within you. His powerful thighs brush against yours, his feet intertwining with yours in a tender embrace, as if seeking solace in your hold.

“Yes, Jimin. You’re incredible,” you whisper with a sigh, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away from your body. Finally, a sense of tranquility washes over you, as if his touch has the power to soothe all your worries and pains.

The sensation of his hand on your lower stomach is nothing short of heavenly, each gentle caress a balm to your aching body. His mere presence, his unwavering support, threatens to bring tears to your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his kindness. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as if your heart could burst with an abundance of love and gratitude.

His lips trace a path of warmth along your neck, each kiss igniting a delightful shiver down your spine. A soft chuckle escapes you, but as his lips continue their tantalizing journey, you find yourself squirming in his firm embrace. A playful movement causes your backside to brush against his crotch, and in that instant, you’re acutely aware of his growing erection.

“Jimin,” you chuckle, but his lips continue their delicious assault on your neck, seemingly oblivious to your protest. With each tender kiss, you feel yourself melting further into his embrace. Finally, unable to resist any longer, you turn to face him, your eyes locking in a silent dance of desire.

“You’re hard,” you state, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with both softness and a hint of lust. Your gaze locks with his, a silent invitation hanging in the air, accentuated by the subtle nip of your lower lip.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his voice a husky melody that sends shivers down your spine. His laughter, like music to your ears, fills the room with a warmth that envelops you both. His hand, now back on your hips, moves with a gentle rhythm, tracing soothing circles that melt away the tension, leaving only the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.

You release a soft, involuntary moan as his touch ignites a fire within you. With each knead of your hip, his fingers trace a path of desire, sliding down to the curve of your ass with deliberate, tantalizing slowness.

As he skillfully works the muscles of your ass, your hand ventures downward, drawn to the undeniable bulge in his devilish black sweatpants. The outline of his dick is unmistakable, beckoning you with its tantalizing presence. With eager anticipation, you seize his cock through the fabric, eliciting a low, guttural groan of pleasure from his lips.

“I want to touch you, to make you come,” you implore, your gaze pleading as you offer him a glimpse of your longing. Despite the innocence in your eyes, he remains resolute, unmoved by your entreaty.

“No,” he insists firmly, gently removing your hand from his dick. “This is about you. Let me ease your discomfort,” he adds, his voice tender as he redirects your focus to your own needs. “Trust me, it’s fine,” he murmurs reassuringly, his touch promising solace and relief.

He rises from the bed, his silhouette carved by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and sits up while you remain reclined. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs, his voice a husky murmur that stirs a tingle of anticipation. “But keep your panties on,” he adds with a hint of restraint, his hand threading through his tousled hair. Even in the dim light, you can discern the subtle tension in his body, the silent yearning echoed in the strain of his form-fitting sweatpants, showcasing his cock wonderfully.

While laying down, he assists you in shedding your garments with gentle precision. His fingers deftly navigate the buttons and zippers of your pants, easing them over your hips and down your legs until they are scattered at the floor. With a tender touch, he removes your socks, his fingertips grazing your skin in a playful dance that elicits a fleeting giggle from you.

His gaze lingers on your panties, a simple yet alluring black lace, and a soft admiration gleams in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine appreciation for the sight before him.

His touch ignites a tingling sensation across your skin as his fingers dance over your body, coaxing your shirt off with gentle insistence. With a skilled touch, he guides you to sit up, his hands tracing a tantalizing path up your torso until they find the clasp of your bra. Effortlessly, he releases it, setting your breasts free, and his warm palms cup them delicately. “So soft and beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your skin, as he revels in the intimacy of the moment.

Your breath catches in your throat as a soft moan escapes your lips, your body responding eagerly to his caress. With each lingering touch, a wave of arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within that yearns for more of his intoxicating embrace.

“Now lay down on your stomach first,” he instructs, his gaze tracing the curves of your body with hunger, his tongue darting out as if you’re a delectable feast waiting to be savored.

You sink into the bed, enveloped in his familiar musky aroma, a comforting embrace for your senses. His hands start at your neck and shoulders, his presence pressing gently over you, as he straddles your ass, his weight a reassuring anchor. With skilled precision, he works your muscles like a master baker kneading dough, each movement easing the knots of tension from your body. The touch is firm yet tender, and with each stroke, you feel the weight of the day lifting from your skin, leaving you adrift in a sea of relaxation.

His hands, like skilled artists, glide down your back, tracing the curves of your shoulder blades with delicate precision. The sensation is exquisite, sending tingles cascading down your spine. His touch is a symphony of pleasure, each stroke orchestrating a chorus of sighs and gasps from your lips. And beneath it all, you feel the subtle rhythm of his dick pulsating against your ass, a silent melody of passion that dances in harmony with your own.

His hands continue their journey, traversing the landscape of your back with a tender firmness that speaks volumes of his skill. Each movement is deliberate, mapping out a path of relief along your ribcage and tracing the contours of your spine with an expert touch. It’s a paradox of strength and gentleness, his fingers like whispers against your skin, soothing away the knots of tension with practiced ease.

He positions himself lower, settling onto your thighs with a deliberate intent, his hands now gliding over the expanse of your lower back. The sensation is exquisite, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body, evoking a deep, primal response. A needy moan escapes your lips, punctuating the air with a symphony of desire, and you can feel the immediate response of his cock against your skin.

With a gentle tug, he eases the edge of your panties down slightly, allowing him better access to massage the curves of your ass. A deep, guttural groan of pleasure escapes you as his skilled hands work wonders on your body, each motion a symphony of blissful sensations. It’s an exquisite dance of touch and response, leaving you utterly captivated by the sheer intensity of his ministrations.

Fuck it feels so good.

“Do you like it?” He inquires, his voice laced with a playful edge that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s as if you can feel the warmth of his smile in his words, his teasing tone igniting a spark of anticipation within you.

“Fuck, yes,” you moan, feeling as though you’re melting into the sheets beneath you, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. A bead of sweat forms on your brow, mingling with the dampness of anticipation, as if your body can't contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

You think you’re drooling too, maybe from more than one place.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine, as he pulls your panties back up and shifts to sit beside you. His hands firmly grasp the curves of your ass, kneading with a skill that leaves you breathless. Every touch ignites a fire within you, a fierce longing that consumes your senses, driving you to the edge of desire with each caress.

His hands glide downward, tracing the contours of your thighs, down to your calves, and finally reaching your feet. With a gentle touch, he massages each toe, sending a delightful tingle through your body that elicits a soft, involuntary giggle from your lips.

“Turn around, love,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a playful tone, punctuated by a gentle spank on your ass.

You twist your body to face him, your nipples erect and inviting, a sight that elicits a tender smile from him. “You really like it, huh?” He chuckles, his eyes dancing with affection as you settle onto your back, eager for his touch once more.

He begins with your feet, cradling one in his hands and working his fingers expertly into the arch, easing away the day’s tension. Then, with the same care and attention, he turns to the other foot, his touch gentle yet firm, coaxing relaxation from every muscle.

With a feather-light touch, he glides his hands up your legs, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your skin as if each stroke is a whispered promise of comfort and solace.

As his hands start to massage your hip with the gentlest of touches, eliciting a soft moan from your lips, you’re overwhelmed by the sheer bliss coursing through your body. Every caress feels like a blissful release, easing away the tension and leaving you floating in a sea of pleasure.

His hands ascend to your stomach, and a cascade of shivers dances across your skin, ignited by his tender touch. Each stroke feels imbued with love and affection, as if he’s painting delicate strokes of adoration upon your flesh. Despite the sensations, a soft giggle bubbles from within you, tickled by the intimacy and warmth enveloping you.

Anticipation tingles through every fiber of your being as you await the touch you yearn for, expecting his hands to caress your breasts next. Yet, to your surprise, they bypass that destination entirely, gliding over your arms instead. Confusion flickers across your face as you lock eyes with him, seeking answers in his mischievous smirk, which only deepens the mystery of his intentions.

His hands glide over your arms with expert precision, tracing the contours of your biceps and kneading your skin with a delicate touch, as if each stroke is an ode to the strength and grace you possess.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he finally descends to the part where your desires lie most fervently – your breasts.

His touch is both tender and assertive as he cups your breasts, his fingers skillfully exploring every curve and contour, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His voice is a husky whisper against your skin as he murmurs, “Love these,” before lavishing attention on your right breast with soft, tantalizing kisses, igniting a fire of desire within you.

You arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as you instinctively press your body closer to his tantalizing touch, craving more of his affectionate caresses.

As he straddles you, his weight presses against you, a tantalizing pressure that sends a shiver down your spine. Beneath him, you feel the unmistakable warmth of his dick against your crotch, a delicious friction that ignites your senses. Despite his weight, he feels weightless in your embrace, each touch and movement a delicate dance of desire that leaves you yearning for more.

His hands, strong yet tender, caress your breasts with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With expert precision, his fingers trace tantalizing patterns over your sensitive nipples, coaxing them to stiff peaks that ache with desire. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening every sensation until you’re consumed by a whirlwind of ecstasy.

As he pinches them gently, he observes with a hungered gaze as your expression twists in the throes of pleasure, your lips parting in a silent gasp as waves of sensation ripple through you.

“Jimin,” you murmur his name, a plea hanging in the air, laden with uncertainty and desire. In the turmoil of conflicting emotions, you’re unsure of your own wishes. The idea of sex during your period feels messy and uncertain, yet an undeniable need throbs within you, pulling you in conflicting directions.

“What do you want, love?” His voice, a whisper of warmth against your skin, carries the weight of anticipation, lingering on the edge of a kiss yet to come.

His breath, a tantalizing tease, caresses your skin, igniting a longing for his lips to meet yours in a fierce embrace. Frustration mounts as he hesitates, but you refuse to wait any longer. With a desperate pull, you seize his face, drawing him into a kiss overflowing with the depth of your affection.

He breaks away from your lips, his gaze fixated on your face, where a flicker of discomfort dances in your eyes, mingled with a hint of bewilderment.

“I’m torn, Jimin,” you confess, breaths coming in ragged pants, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m so turned on right now, but the thought of sex during my period... it just feels so messy.”

“Of course, my love,” Jimin responds with gentle understanding, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “I completely understand, and I never intended to pressure you. All I want is to soothe your pain and make you feel comfortable.”

With a soft smile, you draw him closer, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, a silent exchange of affection and understanding. As you break away, you meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “Can you just hold me?” you whisper, your voice a gentle plea, seeking solace in his comforting arms.

His touch traces the contours of your face, a gentle caress that ignites a flutter in your chest. From the bridge of your nose to the curve of your cheeks, his fingertips dance with a tender grace, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally, they come to rest at your lips.

“Of course,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your ear as he settles behind you. With a gentle sweep, he tucks the duvet around your mostly bare form, cocooning you both in its warmth. Drawing you close, he molds his body to yours, fitting together like pieces of a perfect puzzle. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses that send tingles down your spine.

You’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re both turned on right now, the magnetic pull drawing you closer with each breath. Despite the electric tension, there’s something undeniably comforting about the way he envelops you, his embrace a sanctuary from the outside world. As his warmth seeps into your skin, mingling with yours, you find yourself entertaining the idea of drifting off in his arms, the allure of intimacy lulling you into a tranquil embrace.

“Do you want to come with me for my wedding dress fitting appointment?” Your sister’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she delicately lifts her glass of water to her lips, anticipation dancing in the air between you both.

“Yeah, when is it?” You reply, a soft smile mirroring the excitement in her eyes. You can’t help but wonder why she hadn’t brought it up sooner, but you're thrilled she finally did.

“Right this moment, actually,” she chuckles, a playful glint in her eyes as she runs her fingers through her tousled brown curls.

You chuckle at her predictable spontaneity. It’s classic her, always deciding things at the eleventh hour. But you don’t mind, setting down your glass of water on the table. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s hit the road.”

Jessi sets her glass down, and together you stride out of the house toward the purple truck. You climb in, and Jessi takes the wheel, navigating you both into town. Along the way, she fills you in, explaining how she’s arranged an appointment with the local seamstress, boasting about her expertise. You nod, smiling at her enthusiasm, eager to witness your sister transformed in a wedding gown. Knowing Jessi’s usual aversion to dresses, you're curious to discover the style she’ll embrace for this momentous occasion.

After the familiar two-hour drive, Jessi expertly maneuvers the truck into a spot in front of the boutique. The quaint storefront beckons with its modest size, yet inside, a vibrant display of mannequins showcases an array of dresses. Among them, you spot wedding gowns, bridesmaid dresses, and elegant gala attire, each one whispering tales of dreams and celebrations.

As you step into the store, a delightful aroma envelops you, filling the air with its sweet fragrance. The atmosphere exudes warmth and comfort, instantly making you feel at home. A friendly lady approaches, her smile radiant as she offers her assistance.

“I have an appointment to try on wedding dresses,” announcing her appointment with a hint of excitement, your sister catches the store lady’s attention. With a nod of understanding, the lady graciously guides you both deeper into the boutique’s heart, where plush couches await, adorned in a regal hue of deep royal red, accented with elegant gold details. The ambiance is further elevated by the cream-white walls, instilling a sense of tranquility and serenity throughout the space.

“Please take a seat, and have some champagne,” the lady invites with a gentle gesture towards the inviting couches and the sparkling champagne flutes that beckon.

“I’m Hyorin and I’ll help you find the perfect dress for your wedding.” Her warm smile assures you of a journey filled with personalized attention and expert guidance in your quest for the gown of your dreams.

You both sink into the embrace of the lush couch, the rich fabric cradling you like a cloud of opulence. With glasses of champagne in hand, poured with Hyorin’s effortless grace, you take a drink of the champagne, its effervescence mirroring the excitement in the air.

“What kind of dress are you looking for?” Hyorin’s gaze beams with anticipation as she directs her question to your sister, her eyes aglow with genuine interest. Their golden hue, reminiscent of warm honey, adds a radiant charm to her already captivating presence. Her brown locks cascade gracefully over her shoulders, framing her face like a portrait, while her chic curtain bangs lend a touch of modern allure to her appearance.

“I would like something simple and elegant, but not too tight or princessy,” your sister’s voice carries a tone of understated sophistication as she articulates her desires for the perfect gown. Her words resonate with a refined taste, seeking simplicity intertwined with an effortless elegance. You find yourself nodding in agreement, not at all surprised by her choice, and a spontaneous chuckle escapes you, nearly causing you to choke on your champagne.

Jessi turns to you, her lips curved into a playful smile, teasingly prompting, “What’s got you chuckling over there?”

“I’m just not surprised,” you muse with a grin, raising the champagne glass to your lips for another sip.

Hyorin smiles warmly. “I’ll be right back with a few suggestions for you to try on. You can get ready in the dressing room,” she says, her voice filled with excitement for the dress-finding journey ahead.

As Hyorin strides towards the racks adorned with elegant wedding dresses, Jessi rises gracefully, disappearing into one of the changing rooms. Left alone, you sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch, anticipation tingling in the air like champagne bubbles.

Hyorin returns, a vision of grace carrying three dresses like treasures from a bridal chest. Each gown, pristine white with delicate lace accents, exudes an aura of simplicity, elegance, and sheer beauty.

“I’ve curated a selection for you to consider,” Hyorin announces, presenting the trio of dresses to your sister as though unveiling treasures from a sacred bridal trove.

“Thank you,” Jessi responds graciously, snatching the dresses and whisking them into her dressing chamber, eager to unveil their potential allure.

With a flourish, she parts the curtain, revealing the first gown: a sweeping masterpiece. Its neckline plunges daringly, yet tastefully, inviting a glimpse of allure. Sleeveless, it caresses her curves with a perfect fit, offering both elegance and freedom of movement.

Your sister beams at you, her eyes alight with anticipation, as she gracefully lifts the skirt, revealing its fluid movement. “Well?” she prompts, her excitement palpable in the air.

“I think you look absolutely stunning,” you remark with a smile, admiring her from every angle. “But I’m curious to see how the other dresses compare,” you add, eager to explore the options further.

As she emerges from the dressing room, a new silhouette adorns her figure, this one an elegant a-line rather than the previous mermaid style. Yet, it’s adorned with subtle sparkles that catch the light, casting a magical glow around her. Observing her in the dress, you can’t help but wonder if the shimmer aligns with Jessi’s taste. She turns gracefully, the long sleeves adding a touch of sophistication to the ensemble.

Hyorin interjects, her voice tinged with anticipation, “How about this one? Does it speak to you?”

Jessi gazes at her reflection, her eyes lingering on the gown's shimmering embellishments. “The sparkles aren’t my thing,” she muses, “but I adore how the skirt flows—it’s not overly poufy, but just the right amount of volume for movement.”

Hyorin nods in understanding as Jessi retreats into the fitting room to slip into the third gown. The fabric is adorned with delicate lace, and as Jessi emerges, you notice the skirt’s voluminous size doesn’t quite match her liking.

“I’m not sold on the skirt of this one, but the top is lovely. Plus, I don’t mind flaunting a bit of cleavage,” she remarks, gracefully twirling in the dress.

Hyorin nods understandingly, collecting the three dresses from Jessi before gliding across the store to hunt for the next contender.

You rise from the plush couch, a glint of determination in your eyes. “I’ll scout out another option for you to try, sounds good?”

Jessi shoots you a thumbs-up from the dressing rooms, and you set off on your exploration of the boutique. Rows of stunning dresses greet you, each whispering its own tale of elegance and romance. Lost in the sea of bridal dreams, you ponder what you might choose for your own wedding someday, if fate allows. Amidst the glitter and sparkle, something catches your eye, beckoning you like a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.

You delicately pluck the dress from the rack, and instantly, you’re captivated. An ivory masterpiece unfolds before you, its allure undeniable. The neckline plunges daringly, yet a sheer nude fabric veils it with a touch of modesty. Long, lace-adorned sleeves promise both grace and breathability, while the bodice, adorned with intricate lace, exudes charm. With its lace-up back, the dress offers a timeless elegance, reminiscent of fairy tales and romance. The A-line silhouette, though not voluminous, carries a subtle flow, enhanced by the delicate lace fabric of the skirt. As you hold it, you can’t shake the feeling that this is the one—the dress that encapsulates your sister’s dreams and desires.

You cradle the dress in your arms, feeling its weight as if holding a treasure. With each step, anticipation swells within you, a silent prayer that this gown may be the key to your sister’s bridal bliss. Approaching Jessi, you extend the dress to her with a gentle urgency, a silent plea echoing in your eyes. “Try this on, Jess,” you urge, your voice a whisper filled with hope and excitement.

Hyorin glides over to you, her hands cradling two delicate dresses like precious secrets. With a graceful flourish, she presents them to Jessi, a silent invitation to discover the magic within. As Jessi disappears behind the dressing room curtain, anticipation hangs thick in the air, each passing moment pregnant with possibility. You exchange a glance with Hyorin, sharing in the silent anticipation of witnessing Jessi’s transformation.

As Jessi parts the curtain, her radiant smile bursts forth like sunshine breaking through clouds. In the shimmering gown you discovered, she spins with effortless grace, a vision of confidence and joy.

“What do you think?” She beams, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, awaiting your verdict on her newfound elegance.

“Absolutely stunning! Jungkook won’t know what hit him,” you exclaim, your voice brimming with excitement and admiration. The dress envelops Jessi like a dream, affirming your belief that it’s the perfect choice for her special day.

“I feel incredible in it, but I doubt he’ll be able to keep his hands off me, he’ll probably just want to rip the dress off my body,” she chuckles, her laughter infectious as it fills the room. You can’t help but join in, the joy of the moment contagious, even Hyorin finds herself laughing along with you both.

“I don’t care what he does, that dress was made for you,” you affirm with conviction, your admiration for your sister evident in your voice. Damn, she looks stunning.

“This is the one,” Jessi declares with a radiant smile, her joy palpable as she moves gracefully in the dress, completely at ease.

As the morning light pours in, casting a golden glow over everything, it feels like the perfect day. The air is crisp, the sun’s warmth wraps around her like a comforting embrace, and the sweet melodies of birdsong serenade her every step. Each footfall is buoyant, as if she’s walking on air, filled with anticipation for the days ahead. Her heart beats with excitement, knowing that her big day is drawing near, and she can hardly contain her joy.

She revels in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence, cherishing every moment spent in his company. Witnessing her sister’s radiant happiness with Jimin fills her with a profound warmth. Never before has she seen Jimin so utterly content in a relationship, and it melts her heart to witness their love blossoming. Everywhere she looks, love seems to weave its enchanting tapestry, wrapping her in its gentle embrace. In this moment, surrounded by love and joy, she feels an overwhelming gratitude for having everything she’s ever wished for and more.

Jessi dances through the halls of Jungkook’s home, her joy infectious and her spirit light. As she twirls amidst the familiar surroundings, she can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe Jimin might summon the courage to take the next step and propose to her sister. The idea has been floating around her mind for some time now, especially knowing that Jimin has been holding onto an engagement ring, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.

Since you accompanied her to her dress fitting, Jessi couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable look of devotion in your eyes, a silent declaration of your readiness and unwavering commitment to Jimin. But now, she finds herself pondering a question that weighs heavily on her mind: how can she nudge Jimin towards proposing to you, or maybe even inspire you to take the leap and propose to him? Tradition and conventions hold little sway over her; all she desires is to witness the radiant joy of her beloved family as they step into a future filled with happiness and love.

With an infectious energy pulsating through her veins, she sways to an imaginary melody in the kitchen, her movements a symphony of anticipation. Suddenly, the distant hum of tires against gravel draws her attention, and she rushes to the window, her curiosity piqued. Through the glass, she spots an unfamiliar vehicle winding its way up the driveway, sparking her intrigue even further.

Eager to welcome the visitor, she strides outside, her smile radiant with warmth. But as her gaze falls upon the sleek, crimson sports car, a sudden chill washes over her, like a shadow eclipsing the sun. With a sharp intake of breath, she senses a storm of emotions brewing within, a tempest of memories stirring to life. That scarlet vehicle triggers a cascade of recollections, each fragment dancing on the periphery of her mind, teasing her with familiarity. Where had she seen it before?

Despite the heavy weight pressing upon her, both in her heart and on her shoulders, she continues to move forward, each step an arduous journey. Every footfall feels like an uphill battle, as if gravity itself conspires against her progress. Yet, propelled by a mix of curiosity and apprehension, she persists, determined to confront whatever awaits her at the end of this daunting path.

With each inch the car draws nearer, her memories awaken like a dormant beast, stirring from its slumber. Images of the past flood her mind, each one a jagged piece of a puzzle she never wanted to solve. The car’s color triggers a cascade of recollections, transporting her back to the day of the accident, a day etched in pain and regret. As the truth dawns on her, fury simmers within her veins, boiling over like a tempest unleashed. Her fists ball up, knuckles whitening, while her teeth grind together in a symphony of anger and anguish, a bitter melody echoing the depths of her soul.

Vividly etched in her memory is the sight of that crimson car careening onto the wrong side of the road, a reckless intruder in her world of order. She recalls the split-second decision, the desperate swerve to avoid a collision, the sensation of losing control as her vehicle skidded off course, hurtling towards an unforgiving embrace with destiny—a collision with a tree that shattered her sense of safety and left her broken, physically and emotionally.

The car grinds to a halt, and her muscles tense with a mixture of apprehension and frustration, her arms folding protectively across her chest, a silent barrier against whatever or whoever emerges from that ominous vehicle. With each passing second, impatience brews within her, a fervent desire for the intrusive presence to vanish, to leave her to the serenity of her solitude. She fixates on the car’s door, her gaze an unyielding challenge, daring the unknown occupant to unveil themselves and confront the consequences of their intrusion.

The silence stretches taut as the stranger emerges, his movements deliberate, almost calculated, as if he’s orchestrating a grand entrance. With a polished precision, he plants his first foot onto the ground, clad in sleek, designer shoes that exude opulence—a stark contrast to her indifference, maybe even disdain, for such material extravagance. She suppresses a scoff, her lip curling with distaste, a silent protest against the superficiality that seems to accompany him.

As the man steps fully out of the car, his gaze sweeps the surroundings before settling on Jessi. Her expression remains stern, a subtle furrow forming between her brows, her lips pressed into a thin line betraying her impatience. One foot taps rhythmically against the earth, a silent declaration of her readiness for the stranger to break the silence enveloping them.

As the stranger remains silent, Jessi takes a moment to size him up. True to her initial assessment, is a city slicker; his brown hair meticulously styled with gel, giving him a sophisticated yet laid-back appearance. His heart-shaped face boasts a pointed nose and sharp eyes that seem to miss nothing. Clad in a loose silk shirt tucked into sleek black dress pants, he stands out amidst the rustic surroundings with an air of effortless elegance. Feeling the weight of his silence, Jessi clears her throat, a subtle signal to draw his attention.

“Some balls you have,” she begins, her voice laced with the simmering anger that clouds her thoughts and judgment.

His expression twists into confusion, but she can feel the heat rising within her, pushing her to raise her voice at him.

“Get out of here!” Her voice reverberates, echoing the anger pulsating through her, each word a thunderclap demanding his departure.

As footsteps and doors creak open behind her, you, Jungkook, and Jimin approach her, enveloping her in a protective circle. Your arms wrap around her, seeking answers to her distress, but Jessi’s vision blurs with rage, seeing nothing but crimson swirling before her eyes.

“He’s the one who caused my accident,” Jessi’s voice cuts through the tension, still charged with anger as she jabs her finger accusingly at the stranger.

You turn to gaze between your sister and the stranger, a surge of disbelief coursing through you. Suddenly, everything clicks into place, and you realize why your sister trembles in your embrace, her fury palpable.

Jungkook and Jimin move protectively in front of you, their gaze fixed firmly on the stranger standing before you. Jungkook takes the lead, his voice firm with an undercurrent of caution. “Who are you?”

The stranger clears his throat, his demeanor cautious yet oddly composed. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m—”

His words come out in a low, rumbling growl, cutting off Taehyung’s attempt to speak further. “Are you the one responsible for her accident?”

Taehyung’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression clouded with a hint of remorse, his hands retreating into his pockets.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I am,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with regret, his eyes flitting nervously among all of you, unable to meet any one gaze.

Your sister hisses, her fists clenching again, and you can feel the tension vibrating through her, a palpable desire to break free from your hold and maybe slap some sense into the man, but you cling to her tightly, refusing to let her go.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his gaze assessing Taehyung from head to toe. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung shifts uncomfortably, his laughter tinged with nervousness as he kicks at the dirt, his hand absently smoothing his sleek hair, disrupting its neatly styled appearance.

“I came to speak to my family,” he murmurs, his gaze sharpening once more, a flicker of resolve crossing his features as he braces himself for your response.

“Then you came to the wrong place, mate,” Jungkook utters through clenched teeth, his voice laced with simmering anger, though beneath the surface, you sense his effort to maintain composure.

You don’t know what Taehyung means by speaking to his family; none of you know him, and he’s certainly not part of your family.

“I’m your brother,” Taehyung says, his voice carrying an unexpected calmness that sends a ripple of disbelief through the air. Your eyes widen in shock. How can he remain so composed amidst such a damning accusation? You turn your head to glimpse your sister’s reaction; her eyes mirror your incredulity. Glancing at the others, you notice Jungkook and Jimin standing frozen, their expressions a mixture of confusion and surprise.

As the weight of Taehyung’s revelation settles in, you release your grip on your sister and stride towards Jimin, while Jessi gravitates towards Jungkook, seeking solace in his embrace. Together, the four of you stand, an image of disbelief and confusion. What is the meaning of this?

Taehyung’s gaze shifts between Jimin and Jungkook, his expression a blend of hurt and confusion, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated disappointment or maybe sadness. “You didn’t know?” he ventures, his voice tinged with an undertone of caution, as if unsure of how his revelation will be received.

You sense Jimin’s body tensing within your embrace, his muscles coiling like tightly wound springs as he grapples with the sudden influx of information. His fists clench, knuckles whitening with the intensity of his emotions, a silent storm raging within him.

“I don’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses back, his voice tight with tension, his fists clenched at his sides like coiled springs ready to release. “Our parents never told us anything of the sorts.”

Taehyung simply nods, his expression pained yet resolute. “Well, my mom recently told me about you and my father—our shared father.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook scoff, disbelief etched on their faces, their eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Dad would have told us,” Jimin’s voice is strained, his attempt at composure evident in the way he clenches his jaw. You reach out, soothingly tracing your hand up and down his arm, feeling the tension coiled within his muscles. With your other hand, you firmly grasp his hand, anchoring him in the moment.

“Are you sure? Seems like the guy got around a lot,” he remarks casually, shrugging his shoulders. Beside you, you notice both Jungkook and Jimin flinching at his words, their expressions betraying a mix of disbelief and discomfort.

“You,” Jungkook seethes, his voice edged with barely contained fury. From the corner of your eye, you see him attempting to break free from your sister’s grasp, but she holds onto him firmly, refusing to let him go.

“I can prove that I’m your sibling with a DNA test,” he states casually, his demeanor unsettlingly composed. You can’t fathom how he can maintain such calmness amidst this chaos. Doubt creeps into your mind, questioning his intentions. What does he seek from the guys? Money, maybe?

You can feel Jimin’s heartbeat against your chest, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his uncertainty. He clears his throat, his voice edged with skepticism, “Then come back with proof. Because we don’t believe you.”

Taehyung nods, his demeanor nonchalant, “I just need some DNA from you and I’ll be on my merry way.”

It feels like a scene ripped straight from a surreal drama as Taehyung produces a small plastic bag, and both Jimin and Jungkook pluck out a hair from their heads, handing it to Taehyung with a mix of reluctance and defiance. Their expressions betray a cocktail of emotions, but it’s clear they’re doing it more out of defiance than genuine cooperation. Taehyung calmly plucks a piece of hair from his own head.

“Thank you,” he says with a pleased smile, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he waves before disappearing into the sleek red car. With a smooth maneuver, he gets behind the wheel and drives off, leaving behind a cloud of uncertainty and a lingering sense of unease in the air.

You all hold your breath, a tense silence enveloping the group as his car disappears into the distance, leaving nothing but a swirling cloud of dust in its wake.

“What a douche,” Jungkook’s voice seethes with a mix of anger and exhaustion, his words heavy with disbelief and frustration. “I really hope he isn’t our brother.”

Jimin turns towards you, his expression a blend of confusion and desperation as he seeks reassurance in your eyes, silently pleading for answers you’re not sure you can provide at this moment. Nevertheless, you envelop him in a tight hug, hoping your embrace can convey the support and comfort he needs.

You offer a soothing rub to his back, your touch a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling uncertainty. “That was so weird. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this. What could he possibly want?”

Jimin’s warm breath against your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and you hold him tighter for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence. As he pulls away, uncertainty lingers in his voice. “Yeah. I don’t know if I like this.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, Jimin. Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.”

You find yourselves immersed in a search through old papers and documents together, scouring for any hint of a connection from the guys to Taehyung. The disbelief hangs heavy in the air, and you empathize with their skepticism. It’s like watching their world tilt on its axis, leaving them grappling with uncertainty and confusion.

Despite days spent sifting through mountains of old documents, the evidence of Jimin and Jungkook having a brother remains elusive. The mystery hangs heavy in the air, fueling speculation and unease. You engage in discussions, contemplating the possibility that Taehyung may be orchestrating some sort of scheme.

As anticipated, Taehyung fulfills his promise, returning a few days later, his sleek red car gliding into the driveway. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you and the others step outside to confront him once again.

Taehyung emerges from his car, exuding the same impeccable style as before, his attire as refined as his demeanor. A confident smile graces his lips as he approaches, clutching a piece of paper in his hand, his eyes glinting with a sense of purpose.

He strides purposefully toward Jimin, extending the paper with a determined yet enigmatic air. “Proof,” he states simply, his gaze locked onto Jimin’s, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

You position yourself behind your boyfriend, stretching on tiptoe to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, eager to discern the contents of the document. As your eyes sweep across the page, there it is— the undeniable confirmation, the positive result staring back at you, setting your heart racing with a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

Frustration and disbelief surge through you. You can hardly fathom it. Without a word, Jimin passes the paper to his brother, his silence a testament to the tumult raging within him as he grapples with the sudden upheaval of his reality. In a bid to anchor him amidst the storm, you envelop him in a reassuring embrace, feeling the weight of his uncertainty and turmoil pressing against you.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks over the document, his features contorted in a mixture of skepticism and disdain. “You may share our blood,” he begins, his voice edged with a steely resolve, “but you’re no brother of mine.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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

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snnnailmail · 1 month

Note

Hi hello once again- NEW CHAPTER ANNOUNCEMENTAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ANYWAYS I HAVE A CHOPPY ANIMATION JUST FOR THISS OCCASION:

Choppyanimationhere

(ps: Sorry in advance for the end- It's really rushed cause I was desperate to get it done before the chapter came outttt. ANYHOW PS OVER RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH💥💥💥💥)

DUDE.

This is so good I actually cried. I knew you had an animation in the works but I was NOT expecting that /pos I’m actually going through it frame-by-frame just. drinking it in. You went above and BEYOND for this and I’m so happy I was able to inspire you and I can only hope the next chapters can do you some justice 🫶😭 Trust me when I say YOU got the ball rolling on CH3 cuz I was like What?? Somebody likes this?? I better get to work!!

This kind of hype is foreign to me I’m unlocking new emotions rn TYSM this video is getting implanted in my brain as we speak 🫶🫶🫶🥹

-Okay now I’m gonna talk abt it LOL literally the first scene with Reader waking up to Digital Life??? Cold harsh reality VS deceptive inescapable fantasy??? Freaking EPIC

-AND AAA HI KINITO!! HE LOOKS SO HAPPY!! He said ^-^ ^-^ He has NO IDEA

-Reader going through all their avatar phases… they can be anything they want all the time… Not Good.

-AND DUDE THOSE TRANSITIONS?? I SEE EVERYTHING YOU SNUCK IN THERE!! RAHHH THOSE ARE SO COOL!!

-AND WHEN THE CAMERA IS GOING AROUND THE READER??? DUDE YOU ARE SO GOOD AT IMAGINING 3D FIGURES!!!

-OKAY BACK TO THOSE BETWEEN-FRAMES HERE ARE SOME THAT I LIKED

-THEY ARE SO COOL AND SOME I ONLY SAW WHEN I PAUSED EVERY SECOND… UR SO WILD FOR THAT!! IT’S LIKE I’M TREASURE HUNTING FR

-Kinito looks so sweet and innocent how… like :(((

-I do like the little flashes of EVIL KINITO like. You get it.

-HUMANITY JUMPSCARE 💥💥💥

Once again I cannot articulate the words in my brain for the appreciation I have for The Things You Make. My heart is crawling out of my chest to get 2 you we are bonded together like wolves now. Can I mention you in the notes of the next chapter?? You have earned a spot in the credits trust meee 🫶 Cool if not tho!!

TLDR: YOU MADE ME CRY. Sorry if I’m getting WEIRD but I AM GENUINELY SO ‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥🎉🎉🎉🎉💙💙💙🫶🫶🫶💯💯💯🗣️🗣️🐛🐛🐛

#In Pixel Haze #KinitoPET #Kinito my Beloved #Kinito and You #Kinito and Reader #Kinito x You #Kinito x Reader #FANART <3

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fanficbarbie · 7 months

Text

❝i might just give you a bite.❞

part 1 of this fic

A/N: this is for my besties who don’t go out on saturday nights, but are instead reading fanfics in bed. before we start off this chapter, i’m gonna explain the au a bit so it’s not confusing when you read this. the characters included will be mostly from TLOU2 so SPOILERS. although there’s no outbreak and it’s modern-day joel, sarah still dies. TLOU characters will be referenced (deaths, reasons they’re not around, etc.) The only person who is not the same age as they were at the beginning of TLOU2 is Joel because i didn’t want to write a big age gap lol. he’s still daddy tho. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. enjoy ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker celebrates barbieween.

Chapter Warnings: death of parents (mentioned), death of a child (mentioned), language, alcohol and drugs (mentioned), slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression.

Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, Joel x Ellie x Reader, slow burn, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

⋆ word count: 6.3k ⋆

October 31st

Adding a final sugar bat wing to the specialty cupcake, I tuck a stay curl behind my ear with a huff. After 2 hours of baking and decorating, I decide it was time for a break. Taking my headphones off, I turn towards my neighbor’s little sister, Dina.

Dina's ponytail bounces as she bops around the front with her headphones in, making sure the bakery is ready to open in an hour. She’s only 15, but she’s been a massive help with the bakery. She works part-time shifts, but I’m paying her holiday pay for being here since 6 a.m. at her age. Waving my hand through the open window between the kitchen and the register, I grab her attention. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Do you want anything?” I ask.

Dina shakes her head and smiles. “No thanks,” she says.

I shuffle around the kitchen grabbing my things. “Okay, I’ll take you to school when I get back,” I accept her answer. Dina’s probably stuffed from me feeding her croissants and donuts this morning.

Dina beams, seemingly grateful she doesn’t have to take public transit today in the city. “Cool. Do you need help after 4?” she offers.

Shaking my head, I secure my bag on my shoulder. “No, Dina. Go out and have fun. There’s gotta be a party or whatever you young kids are doing these days,” I argue. No one I know should be working on my favorite holiday. It’s the best time of the year.

Dina’s nose crinkles and she leans on the counter. “I don’t really party,” she confessed.

Nodding, I think about the fact that Dina's sister is probably working the E.R. night shift tonight. “Do you want to come over tonight? I’m just handing out candy and probably watching a movie later,” I offer her someone to hang out with.

Dina happily nods, accepting the offer. After reminding her that I’ll text her sister, I turn the handle to the door. The cool autumn air nearly whips me in the face as I step out onto the small threshold.

Staring down at my phone, I start to formulate the message to Talia. I only take two steps before I bump into a small figure. Setting my hands out on the tiny human’s shoulders, I look down and notice a brunette girl peering up at me. Her face twists in anger and she shrugs my hands off her shoulders. “Ow, fuck. Watch it,” She puts me in my place with so much attitude, it reminds me of myself when I was a kid.

Taking a deep breath, I try to compose myself. The younger version of me would’ve given her a piece of my mind, but it’s the best day in the world. Halloween. “I’m sorry, tiny human. I wasn’t paying attention,” I apologize and try to move past her to get coffee.

She steps in front of me again with her arms crossed. “Hey, I am not tiny,” she counters.

“Don’t take it personally. I call anyone under the age of 18 a tiny human,” I placate her.

She huffs before shifting a bit. “Well, now that your main concern should be avoiding a lawsuit, maybe you’ll hear me out,” she snips.

My head tilts in confusion at her statement. “Lawsuit? What do you mean lawsuit?” I ask in disbelief.

Her eyes roll in response to my question. “You know? I got hurt at your business & you discriminated against me. You should pay me or something,” she explains as if I should know this already.

I’ve spent enough time with tiny humans to know when one wants something from you. “Smart, but we’re on the sidewalk. It’s public property,” I break the news to her, gesturing to the cracked concrete beneath our feet.

The brunette teenager’s face turns red as her eyes dart down and then back up at me. “Shit, maybe I should’ve done this another way,” she thinks out loud.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I daydream about a vanilla latte with almond milk. “Look, I need some coffee. Can we walk and blackmail me at the same time?” I ask.

She gnaws on her bottom lip, shifting back on her heels. “Well that’s the thing…” she pauses and waits for my name.

“Ginny,” I inform her.

She nods, seemingly internalizing every syllable. “Ginny. I have a class in 30 minutes. My da–” she stops herself, cursing under her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut right and takes a deep breath. “Anyways, he forgot to pick up the order last night. It might be under my name or his,” she blurts before opening her eyes.

I usually don’t allow customers to pick up orders a day late but the kid looks like she’s going through it. “Okay, how about you come inside and we figure it out so you get to school on time,” I say.

Her face instantly softens and a smile replaces her frown. “Cool. Thanks, Ginny,” she replies.

I open the door, motioning for her to step into the shop ahead of me. “What’s your name?” I ask her.

She looks over her shoulder and watches as I lock the door. “Ellie,” she beams.

Nodding, I start to walk with Ellie toward the back of the bakery. “Nice to meet you, Ellie,” I extend my hand and she shakes it.

When we get into the kitchen, Dina is sitting in the corner with her backpack at her feet. “That was fast,” she comments, ready to stand.

I motion for Dina to not get up with my hands. “I didn’t get coffee yet. Ignore us, I can handle this,” I chirp, breezing over to the iPad.

My fingers tap the screen looking for the list of pick-up orders. “Okay, let’s do this by process of elimination. What’s your last name so I can look you up?” I ask Ellie.

“Williams,” Ellie states clearly.

Typing the letters into the search box, I press enter. “Well your name isn’t in the system so let’s try his name next. Last name?” I try to move on to the next name.

“Miller,” Ellie replies.

Miller, that name sounds familiar. Miller, Miller, Miller. It’s on the tip of my tongue.

My brows twist as I try to place the name. “First name?” I finally give up and ask.

“Joel,” the name rolls off Ellie's tongue as sweet as lilies in May.

Shit. That’s why the name was so familiar. Maybe it’s not the same Joel. “Joel Miller? The chef?” I ask for clarification.

Ellie's brows furrow and she nods. “Yeah. Do you know him?” she counters.

Nodding, I click Chef Miller's order. “Yeah, I didn’t know he had a kid.” Not that’s it a bad thing. It makes him more attractive knowing he has the patience to be a support to a teenager.

Ellie rocks on her heels, looking over her shoulder at Dina. “Joel’s my adopted dad,” she mumbles.

“You don’t have to explain your relationship with him. I get it,” I chirp, turning to grab a box for the first half of the order. “It looks like you need 20 cookies. I haven’t put them out yet. Did you want to come to the rack and pick them out?” I ask Ellie, pointing to the back corner.

Ellie’s face lights up and she nods. “Fuck yeah. But I have to be quick. Art is first thing this morning,” she informs me.

“Let’s go, then,” I smile, waving her in my direction.

My eyes flood with tears as I weep in my office around 3 p.m. My body jolts when the office door slams open against the wall. “Ginny,” I hear my employee Grace start to say. I swivel towards my chair, wiping the tears from my face. “Woah. I’m sorry,” she apologizes with wide eyes. I understand, I probably look like a hot red mess right now.

Motioning with my hand for her to ignore me, I take a deep breath. “You’re okay, what did you need?” I ask.

She nods, shifting to lean on the other leg uncomfortably. “There’s a customer in the front saying he had an order but we can’t find it. Can you help us?” she asks.

Nodding, I stand from the chair. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I chirp, trying my hardest to plaster on a fake smile. Grace gratefully takes this as a sufficient answer, turning on her heels to hurry back out to the front of the bakery.

My pink heels carry me over to the cabinet where I grab a pack of baby wipes. A sharp pain shoots up my soles as I shuffle over to the floor-length mirror in my office and I smooth my hands over my dress. My hair still looks perfect, which I'm grateful for. Grabbing some of the wipes, I try to clean my face as best as possible.

Once I deem my appearance acceptable, I toss the used wipes in the trash. The click of my shoes fills the back kitchen as I make my way up to the front. When I round the corner I see the back of a man with salt and pepper hair. “That’s the boss,” Chloé, another employee, says loudly over the noise in the large room.

My brain sparks, mentally preparing myself for the worst as the tall man slowly turns around. When I see his face, my tense body instantly relaxes. “Oh, Chef Miller. Hi,” I sigh and smile, genuinely this time.

Chef Miller looks me up and down while I close the large gap between us. My nose crinkles when I stop in front of him and he still hasn’t said anything. “Hi. I - um- I’m sorry,” he stammers.

Feeling confused, I break eye contact to look down at my outfit. There’s no flour on my costume but I’m suddenly feeling insecure. “Is everything alright?” I capture Chef Miller's chesnut irises again.

Chef Miller inhales sharply, letting his arms fall to his side. “Mhm, just didn’t know you owned this place is all,” he informs me.

Thank fuck. I thought I had a booger front and center. I suddenly remember forgetting to call The Austin after Ellie came in, as promised. “Yeah, and shit. I meant to call your restaurant and tell you. Ellie came in earlier and I gave her the school order,” I try to ease his mind.

Chef Miller lets out a heavy sigh, doubling over. “Oh lord. I forgot ‘em once and thought I forgot ‘em again. Been so busy at the resteraunt, I –” he cuts his rant short. The denim shirt seems to constrict and I notice his shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

My eyes go wide and I step a little closer to the chef, putting my hand on his back. “Chef Miller, are you alright?” I ask.

Chef Miller nods with his face still towards the pink tile floor. “I’m fine. It’s just the cold air all of a sudden,” he lies and I feel the bass of his voice in my palm.

My hand instinctively rubs circles on his back. “Chef Mill-”

“Joel, sweetheart. Call me Joel,” Joel cuts me off.

“Joel,” I say, and the name almost feels foreign on my tongue. “Do you want to sit down for a second? Try a Halloween brownie?” I offer, hoping it’ll keep him from going down this continuous spiral.

Joel shakes his head and slowly starts to stand, straightening his back. “No, thank you. I don’t want to take up more of your time,” he acknowledges the long line of customers in the bakery.

Taking a step back, I clasp my hands in front of me. Something about Joel intrigues me, and I quickly think of an excuse to keep him in the shop. “How about you sit because you’re saving me from the joy of interacting with rude Halloween patrons,” I practically beg him.

He peers over his shoulder at the case with the sweet treats. His eyes return to mine with a gleam in them. “Okay, deal,” he agrees with a small smile.

Nodding, I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Joel picks a booth to sit in while I scurry to grab him a brownie and a glass of water. When I get back to the booth, I’m out of breath from trying to function in the pink block heels. “Here, it’s on the house,” I suggest, pushing the items towards him.

Joel shakes his head, pulling out a 10-dollar bill. “This is all the cash I have on me but, I can offer two redo meals for the price of one,” he proposes, sliding the cash over towards me.

Shaking my head, I slide it back over towards Joel. “It’s not a big deal,” I argue.

“No, it is. You saved her from embarrassment. I should be tipping you 10 fold,” Joel contests, pushing it back across the table.

Getting frustrated, I reach out and push the cash back in his direction with finality. “Put it in the fucking tip jar. For Christ's sake, Joel. I don’t need it. My staff will split it at the end of the shift,” I declare trying to convince him I do not need the extra cash.

Joel looks down and grabs the cash, tucking it into his back pocket. “Fine,” he mutters under his breath. “So, how was she?” he asks a bit louder.

My head tilts in confusion. “What do you mean?” I ask for clarification.

Joel picks up the brownie, examining the spiderweb marshmallows covering the dessert. “I mean what was she like? Just trying to make sure she’s on the right track is all. Happy and everything,” he explains before taking a bite.

My eyes squint as I study Joel chewing. Every muscle in his jaw flexes and he closes his eyes. “Mmmm, this is good,” he moans and I feel the color drain from my face. My stomach flutters and I try to force the bile back down my throat.

It’s platonic, Imogen. Not even that. We’re acquaintances. “She reminds me of when I was a teenager. Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone that swears more than me,” I finally answer him.

Joel picks up the water, taking a sip of the cool liquid before setting it back on the table. “I told her no more goddamn swearing in public,” he complains.

Pursing my lips together, I try not to laugh at how ironic the scenario is. “Um, Joel,” I say, trying to fight a snicker while Joel takes another bite.

Joel's eyes flick up to mine and I almost crumble. He hums for me to continue while he chews.

Clearing my throat, I try to think of the best way to put this. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to tell him how to parent his kid. “If you want her not to swear in public, you have to lead by example,” I advise the mesmerizing man sitting across from me.

Joel instantly stops chewing and takes a big gulp. “Shit, you’re right,” he swears again and I stifle another giggle.

The desire to spend more time with Joel creeps up my spine once again. “Can I ask you something? And you can say no,” I start feeling a slight warmth in my chest.

Joel nods, wiping his mouth with a pink napkin. “Yeah, sure,” he confirms before going in for the last of the brownie.

My fingers tap the table beneath me, feeling anxious about what I’m going to suggest. “Did the two of you have plans tonight?” I investigate.

Joel takes a few moments to finish chewing while he shakes his head. “No. It’s Ellie’s first Halloween with me, too. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t plan anything.” he addresses their plans.

A small smile creeps onto my lips. “Well, I’m closing the shop early. My neighbor’s little sister is coming over to hang out and watch a movie. You should bring Ellie by for a little while. Maybe they’ll end up being friends,” I ramble.

Joel’s face brightens as he processes the information. “I think that’d be good for her. I took off work and she should be out of school in an hour or two. I’ll get her fed and we’ll be on our way,” he voices before finishing the glass of water.

A few drops of water slip past his bottom lip onto Joel's beard, and I resist the craving to reach up and fix him. “Sounds good,” I note his plans while I slide out of the booth. “Look, I have to get back,” I tell him, seeing the line grow in size.

Joel nods and waves, following suit behind me. As I glide away, I feel something gnawing at my insides. He’s so worried about Ellie and I just want to reassure him. “Joel,” I grab his attention before he gets too far away from me.

He turns around to face me. “Yes, sweetheart?” Joel asks so kindly, I could melt butter on his words.

“You’re a really great dad. I mean, you’d have to be blind not to see that. She’s smart, beautiful, and healthy. I don’t know about happy but, what teenage girl is?” I sincerely express to him what I’ve observed already.

I can tell Joel’s trying his best when he gives me a half smile. “That’s sweet of you, darlin’,” he husks.

Shrugging, I try to push away the flush creeping into my cheeks. “It’s just the truth. And she loves you too, Joel,” I add.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head. His head hangs and he stares at the ground for a moment until a customer needs to pass his large frame to get out of the store.

Joel moves to the side, seemingly regaining his focus. “Thank you, fuck. I needed that,” he swears.

Smiling, I reach out and caress his arm. “I know. I’ll see you tonight,” I wink, spinning on my toes and floating away from the door.

“See you later, Ginny,” he returns the farewell, pulling open the door to my shop and exiting. The lingering smell of his cologne dances in my brain as I try to refocus on the current customers.

“Happy Halloween!” I cheer, scooping the last of the candy into small bags.

It’s always been my favorite holiday and this year, I’m dressed head to toe in pink as Baker Barbie. Once the rush of kids passes, I turn to join Dina in the booth next to the window. My heels click across the floors as I strut towards her.

We opted out for pizza pickup after school and I let the closers handle shutting the store. She made quick work of packing her back at her sisters when we stopped by, having already picked out her Tinkerbell costume.

Just as I make it to the booth, I hear the doorbell jingle. “Hey, Ginny,” I hear a familiar voice.

Turning around, I face the short brunette girl dressed as Wednesday. “Oh! Hi, Ellie. I love your costume. Where’s your—“ I start to ask when my thoughts are cut short. Joel Miller grudgingly saunters into my bakery dressed in a black t-shirt that tightly hugs his body.

Just like the first day we met, I felt my body start to heat up. “Look! I made him dress up as Ken since you don’t have one today,” Ellie proudly points to the pink ‘Ken’ lettering in the middle of Joel’s chest.

Blood rushes to my cheeks when I think about the possibility of us being together. Of him being my Ken. But I know it’s just my delusional thoughts.

My feet involuntarily move forward towards them so I’m not shouting across the bakery. “Oh that’s, well,” I stammer over my words trying to ease myself out of a bootleg Parent Trap. “You did a fantastic job with his costume,” I compliment her smoothly.

My legs almost give out when the corners of Joel’s mouth curve into a small smile. Ellie’s face lights up and she hits Joel in the chest lightly with the back of her hand. “See, Joel. She said you’re Kenough,” she jokes with him.

His brows knit together and he turns towards her, placing his hands on his hips. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” he questions her.

Standing next to him, my hands slide under his arm, tugging him towards the booth in the back. “Don’t think about it too much,” I giggle, trying to ignore the electricity I feel beneath my palms.

His bicep is so muscular, that I find myself wondering if he could pick me up. I make a mental note to charge both vibrators so I can fantasize about him later tonight. “Cupcake?” I offer pointing to the case, trying to dust the dirty thoughts out of my head.

Joel relaxes under my touch and I use him to stabilize myself in the tall heels. “I’ve had ‘nough sugar for today,” he grunts.

Tutting, I smile up at him. “Joel Miller, you can’t expect to come into a bakery and not get any sweetness in your life,” I challenge him. I can’t be upset though, he did try my brownie and my croissant earlier.

A small smirk creeps onto his lips. “Don’t think I have to eat anythin’ for that,” he flirts and my eyes nearly pop out of my head.

Shifting my attention to the teenagers awkwardly standing within a mile distance of each other, I try to form introductions. Dropping my grip on Joel’s arm, I cross the space to the booth. “Ellie, meet Dina. Dina, meet Ellie,” I babble, pointing back and forth between the girls.

“Dina is my neighbor,” I say for the two of them, but mostly for Joel's sake. The likelihood of the teenagers caring about our relationship is none. Sliding into the booth, I wave my hand inviting them to join us. Ellie softly smiles and she lifts her hand, awkwardly waving. “Hey. You look familiar,” she greets Dina.

Dina blushes, seemingly wanting to hide behind me. “Hi,” she mumbles.

A small girl dressed as a gymnast does a back walkover outside the window and my face twists. The city sidewalk is fucking disgusting. “Shit, shit, shit,” I hear Ellie start to panic.

My face is plastered with confusion as Dina scoots over toward me. “What’s her problem?” she whispers.

My face turns towards her and I shrug with my eyes wandering back to Ellie. She looks as though she’s about to crawl out of her skin.

Joel leans across the table and puts up his hand to cover his mouth from Ellie’s view. “She has an irrational fear of gymnasts,” he rasps lowly.

Nodding, I try to think of a way to peel Ellie away from the window. “Okay well. Dina, why don’t you and Ellie go grab some cider while Joel and I catch up,” I suggest.

Dina’s face turns red and she nods. My hands make contact with the cold table as I use it to slide out of the small booth.

Ellie looks unsure of what to do. “Joel?” she looks up at him with nervousness and asks.

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassures her, following suit across from me and the girls disappear into the kitchen.

A smile creeps onto my face as I watch Joel awkwardly readjust his t-shirt. “So…” I start, pausing to awkwardly gnaw on my lip.

Joel seemingly notices how awkward I feel, leaning forward towards me. “How long have you owned this place?” he asks, tongue laced with curiosity.

Slouching a bit, I remember the reason why I started this career path. “A couple of years now. I opened it after my parents passed away,” I let him know.

His eyes dart down towards the table. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he apologizes.

I reach across the table and grab his calloused hands. “It’s okay. I wanted to do something I loved and so I found and bought this space a couple of months after,” I explain.

He doesn’t flinch and the heat radiates in my palms. “So it’s just you running things? No partner?” he inquires.

The realization that I just grabbed his hands hits me, and I drop them like they’re a hot potato. His nose crinkles and I think I catch a grimace from him. “No partner,” I answer.

He leans back into the pink pleather booth and the seat beneath him crinkles. “Wow, that’s impressive. The Austin would probably crumble,” he acknowledges.

A giggle slips my lips. “Well, Daylight Bakery is not gunning for a Michelin Star,” I point out.

He tilts his head to the right and raises his eyebrow slightly. “You could do it,” he muses.

My left hand waves him off. “You flatter me. But can we stop talking about me? I’m getting embarrassed,” I express, feeling particularly vulnerable when talking about the success of my business.

Joel lifts a brow, looking at me with a surprised expression. “I thought Barbie doesn’t get embarrassed,” he points out.

Shaking my head, I smile at him. “She doesn’t… wait. You’ve seen The Barbie Movie?” I ask him. Honestly, I’m astonished.

He nods, brushing his hair back with his hand. “Mmmhm. I do have a daughter,” he elaborates.

The urge to ask him about his situation with Ellie creeps up my back. I want to know how Chef Joel ended up adopting a teenager who swears like a sailor. “About that. I hate to be nosey but, I can’t help it. How did you end up adopting Ellie?” I blurt out the compulsive thought.

He grunts and my eyes wander down to his shoulders. His whole upper body looks tight and uncomfortable. “Long story. Had a daughter, Sarah. She passed a couple of years ago,” he starts, voice laced with sadness.

My face softens and I fight the urge to cry again for the millionth time today. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose a child. Worse than any pain known to man. “Oh, Joel. I’m so sorry,” I apologize.

Sadness glows in his eyes and I feel the desire to jump across the table and embrace him. “It’s okay, I was able to grieve. Still grievin’,” he adds.

My head bobs up and down, processing the information. “Yeah. I totally get that,” I voice quietly.

I try to stay silent to allow him to continue if he feels like it. The air between us feels solum. “After she passed, I put all my energy into the restaurant. Ellie’s birth mother died givin’ birth to her, and her mom’s partner worked at The Austin,” he notes.

“Worked?” I question him. I assumed she was still working there.

He rubs the scruff on his jaw and lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, she uh. She has an addiction. She was doing well for Ellie's whole life and then, somethin' happened and she relapsed. Asked if Ellie could stay with me for a while. Never came back,” he expands.

Shaking my head, I feel like a house is sitting on my heart. No one deserves to be left like that by someone they love. “That’s, wow. Poor girl,” I express sympathy for Ellie.

Joel shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Yeah. What was I supposed to do? Say no?” he chuckles, running his hands over his face.

My lips press together and my eyes capture his bloodshot ones. “No,” I murmur.

“Right. After a while, she just became mine I guess. She still reminds me I’m not her dad every once in a while,” he vents.

Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I shift a bit in my seat. “Is it when you fight?” I query.

Joel looks away, staring off into space behind me in deep thought. “Mmmhm,” he recalls.

My body relaxes when he confirms my suspicions. “She’s just a regular teenager with teenage angst. She nearly said ‘my dad’ this morning,” I try to appeal to him.

His ears perk up and his eyebrows raise. “Really?” he nearly gasps.

My face twists and I look at him with confusion. Why would that be such a surprise to him? “Yeah,” I confirm.

His eyes gradually widen while he stares a hole through my soul. “Woah,” he breathes.

My head moves slightly to the right to make sure he’s still looking at me and not just processing. His gaze follows mine, so I continue, “Has she never said that before?”

Joel rubs the back of his neck. “No, not to me,” he grunts.

Nodding, I blink slowly. “Give her time,” I advise him.

A loud bang interrupts us and when I turn my head, I see Ellie scrambling out of the kitchen with Dina attached to her hip. “Joel, can we go watch a movie?” She asks pointing up towards the ceiling.

Joel’s brows furrow as his eyes follow her finger. “Why are you pointing up, kiddo?” He asks.

I lean across the table so I’m a little closer to Joel. “They’re asking if we can go watch it in my living room,” I elaborate to clear any confusion he may have.

Joel’s head turns in my direction. “You live above the bakery?” he digs.

“I do,” I reveal. It was easier for me to buy the whole building and split it into half residential than to buy two separate properties. Dina and her sister rent a condo in the building next door, so all 4 floors are mine.

“That’s convenient,” he comments toward me before turning his attention back to Ellie. “I don’t care, but it’s not my TV or my place. You’ll have to ask Ms. Scott,” he gives her permission, gesturing to me.

Ellie rocks back on her heels, rotating her body in my direction. “Ginny, can we watch the movie now?” she stammers, excitedly.

“Ms. Scott, Ellie. Mind your manners,” Joel corrects Ellie.

I reach out, putting my hand on Joel’s forearm. “It’s fine, Joel. I told her to call me Ginny,” I state, hoping it’ll save Ellie from a lashing.

Before he can say anything, I remove my hand from his arm to grab my keys from the table. “Here, catch,” I chime, tossing Dina the keys.

She successfully catches it, tugging Ellie towards the back with her free arm. “We’ll be up there in a second. No tequila, no weed, and no wine, Dina. I mean it,” I warn Dina.

“Buzzkill,” Dina grunts as they reach the pink double doors.

“Thanks, Gin– I mean, Ms. Scott,” Ellie beams over her shoulder.

“For fucks sake. Drop the Ms. Scott, Ellie,” I call back to her just as the doors close behind them, leaving me and Joel alone once again.

Fidgeting in my seat, I swallow my impulse to confess my crush to the southern gentleman. “Happy Halloween,” I cheer.

The stairs creek with each step we take down them as Ellie and I creep downstairs. Dina left a few minutes ago when Talia picked her up from work. The only ones left in the bakery are Joel, me, and Ellie. “Hey, Ginny. Can I ask you a favor?” Ellie breaks the comfortable silence.

I nod sleepy, praying my feet carry me back up the steps. I am not above sleeping in a bakery booth as opposed to climbing 3 flights of steps. “Mmm,” I hum for Ellie to continue.

Just a couple more steps, Imogen. “Can I come to the bakery after school, you know, just to hang out and sketch? Joel doesn’t get home till 11 pm most nights,” I hear her practically beg.

“Of course. Dina’s sister, Talia, is the same. That’s why she works the afternoon shifts,” I tell her.

I have no problem with her hanging out here in the afternoons. And besides, Dina and Ellie found out they go to the same school today. Why would I want to separate the budding friendship?

Ellie clears her throat, stopping once we get to the bottom of the steps. “Yeah…” she murmurs.

Suddenly, I’m wide awake. “Oh, you…” I start, searching her eyes unsure of how to phrase my words. “That's great, Ellie,” I attempt to telepathically communicate with her that as a queer child, she’s always safe with me.

Ellie’s eyes flicker with fear. “Please don’t tell Joel,” she quickly begs.

As if we spoke him into existence, Joel comes from around the corner at that moment. “Tell Joel what?” he interrogates us.

My breathing quickens and I feel sweat start to collect above my brow. There’s no fucking way I’m going to out Ellie to her dad, or anyone to anyone for that matter. “That she hates your steaks too,” I say as convincingly as possible.

Joel shrugs on his jacket, not bothering to adjust the fit. “Is that so?” he smirks.

Ellie shifts from one foot to the other. “Um, yeah. It’s shit, Joel. Sorry. I didn’t want to tell you,” Ellie rambles and I nudge her to stop talking. The more she talks, the more details we have to remember about this lie going forward. Fucking tiny humans.

Joel chuckles and I glide past Ellie to adjust his jacket for him. The air between us is electric when I tug his jacket up slightly. Ellie snickers, and I assume it's because I'm practically fluffing her father. Once I deem my styling of Chef Ken perfect, I flick on the lights in the bakery. “Maybe that’s what’s keepin’ me away from a star,” I hear Joel complain behind me.

When I turn around, Ellie is shrugging. “Maybe. Let’s go home,” she blurts, anxiously pulling her dad towards the door.

My feet shuffle across the floor in my slippers behind them. “Oh, Joel. Wait,” I call after them, attempting to catch up. “Ellie’s gonna hang at the bakery after school days and do homework. I can hire her next year if you want me to," I huff out of breath.

Joel’s smirk melts away and he turns towards the mini version of him. “Ellie,” he scolds her.

Ellie puts her hands up in defense. “What?” she asks.

Joel shakes his head with disapproval. “Ms. Scott’s very busy. I don’t think she’d appreciate havin' you here 5 out of the 7 days in a week,” he paints a picture of Ellie overstaying her welcome.

I don’t want her to ever feel like she can’t come here, especially after she was so vulnerable with me in the stairwell. “Actually, it’s fine. We have an empty wall right there,” I point to the blank canvas, ready to be explored. "Maybe you can paint something on that. Like a mural," I suggest.

Ellie’s jaw drops and she bounces slightly on her toes. “Holy shit! Really?” she buzzes.

Joel shifts, crossing his arms. “Ellie,” he repeats.

Ellie scoffs, looking at Joel as if she’s saying are you fucking kidding me? “I’m sorry. Holy fuck, really?!” she regurgitates with a worse swear word.

I smile at her excitement. “Really,” I whisper as if it’s the best-kept secret.

“Can it be space-themed?” Ellie counters.

Nodding, I try to imagine what a space-themed wall would look like. Maybe she can incorporate cupcakes. “It can be anything you want. Call it ‘Ellie’s Wall’ or something,” I encourage her.

Ellie nods, finally calming down a bit. “That’s awesome,” she marvels.

Ellie looks up at Joel with the worst puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen. Not that it matters, because he’s crumbling by the second. “You can do it. Long as you’re on top of your schoolwork,” he permits her to spend time here.

Ellie smiles, moving closer to the door. “Okay, okay. I’m going before you take it back. Bye, Ginny,” she boasts confidently while yanking open the door.

I chuckle at her antics. “Bye, Ellie. See you tomorrow,” I bid her goodbye.

The door shuts behind us and a faint jingling sound enters the room. Joel steps closer to me, slightly trapping me in the small doorway. “So,” he starts, cutting himself off.

My eyes snap away from his to the floor. I can’t fucking look at him. Not when he’s this close looking good enough to eat. “So,” I murmur.

Joel bends down a little bit, forcing me to look back into his coffee-colored irises. “Thank you. For everything today,” he smiles, putting a hand over his chest.

God, I’m probably as red as a tomato. I want to sprint as far as I can away from this conversation. “You’re welcome,” I voice so low, it’s almost a whisper.

Joel reaches for the door handle right next to me. So he wasn’t trying to kiss me. “Guess, I’ll be seein’ you tomorrow when I pick up Ellie,” he smiles, opening up the door.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed but I try to push it to the back of my mind. We’re just acquaintances, Ginny. “Thanks for coming. I had a great holiday,” I squeek.

His mouth curves up into a smile. “So did I,” he chuckles, stepping out of the door.

My delusional brain grabs the door behind him before he pulls it shut. Maybe this is it. Maybe he has a crush too. “Goodnight, Joel,” I melodically bid him goodbye.

Joel smiles, awkwardly waving. “Goodnight,” he murmurs, pulling the door shut.

Joel stands directly outside and peers through the window, pointing down at the lock. “Now,” he mouths, and I click the metal switch.

Shaking my head at his antics, I spin around to trek back upstairs. Once I’m in my living room, my feet drag across the floor to shut the window facing the street. I scratch my head when I hear two voices screaming at each other below. “You didn’t kiss her? What the hell, dude?” Ellie chews out Joel and my cheeks burn.

“Ellie, no questions,” I hear Joel snip at his daughter.

Curiosity killed the cat and Ellie, apparently. “Why didn’t you kiss h–”

“Damn it, Ellie. Shut up and get in the car,” I hear Joel grumble before a car door slams. I giggle, shutting my window and thanking the gods above for such a great Hallows Eve.

sweetest pie series

74 notes · View notes

n0t-vzin1s · 1 year

Text

bf!chuuya headcannons

gn!reader x chuuya

a/n: i'm so surprised at how much attention dazais hc post got so here's chuuya

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small nsfw warning?? only mentions sex

where do i even begin with him

he's probably never been in a relationship before, and if he has it was only for sex

so when you (undoubtedly) ask him out he's a little hesitant

and by that i mean

he probably outright avoided you for two weeks straight until you surprised him in his office

and even then he puts his career in first place

"i'm an executive, you'll be targeted"

ok and

what if we can defend ourself?

what then chuuya

he's super sweet, i can assure you that much

gets into arguments with you about the most stupidest shit

you or him are probably super petty and will just ignore eachother until the other admits they were wrong.

hint: it'll probably be you

chuuyas got a short fuse so if he has to admit he's wrong you've got a one way ticket to hell

like dazai, he teaches you self defence

and then gets his ass beat by you

idk he probably sleeps with a stuffed animal in his bed that dazai gave him when they were teenagers

just outright refuses to get rid of it

dresses fancy. no matter the occasion. which means you have to match him. sorry.

probably plays an instrument or something

i'm imagining guitar or violin idk

his room has a lot of photographs from his younger years

(they're all him and dazai)

when you question him about them, he clams up and stays quiet

family man

he never really.. had one, growing up

so if he has any friends with kids he's already offered to baby sit

surprisingly gentle with kids

he's rich so he probably will buy you anything you so much as LOOK at once.

what's that? you glanced at this plant in a store?

he's already at the register paying for it.

romantic dates!!

walking through the park with your hands intertwined was probably his favourite

or the time he took you to a pond and went swimming with you at three in the morning, proceeded by watching the sun rise

little spoon

there is no way in hell this man is a big spoon

likes painting with you

but he sucks at painting so you'll draw something magnificent and he's got a circle

surprisingly

he has to take a lot of vitamins due to deficiencies

lets you wear his hat often

everyone used to warn you to never touch his hat but now he just straight up sets it on your head

lots n lots n lots of playing games with him

or playing with his hair while he rages in a cod lobby

when the lobby hears you talking to him and him talking back they make fun of him for being a softy

they are found dead later.

LOVES when you braid his hair

will never admit it though

watches your favourite shows and movies with you

instead of buying you flowers on your first date, he brought you a lego BOUQUET of flowers. that way they'd never die and you'd have the memory forever

has yoh paint his nails for him since he's too shaky to do it himself

cuts his own hair and offers to cut yours

---------------------------------------

it kinda just occurred to me how much i have going on in my life

1. coding a story

2. publishing on wattpad (@/talesbyraven)

3. editing on tiktok (@/sirjuuzou)

like it doesn't seem like MUCH but it's a lot considering how much time it takes up.

i coded today for maybe 5hrs and got 160 lines done, which a CHAPTER has around 2000-8000 per chapter. 🤷‍♀️

publishing depends on my mood, although it has been messed up for the last month but i used to publish once everyday, but since it's changed i've been stressed out.

editing can be time consuming, and depending on if it's a transition edit or just shakes and whatnot it can take between 15 minutes to an hour and a half, and it's hard finding the motivation lol.

#chuuya x y/n #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuya nakahara #nakahara chūya #bsd chuuya #chuuya bsd #chuuya x reader #head canon #chuuya hcs #chuuya headcanons #chuuya fluff #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuyabsd #chuuya supremacy #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons

216 notes · View notes

lookismaddict · 1 year

Text

Lookism Chapter 431 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

Sorry for the late post, I had no idea that I was going to be a bit busy today. 🙏🏽 BUT GOD, THE SUSPENSE WAS KILLING ME FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. LET’S SEE WHO THE NEWEST MEMBER IS… 👀

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!!!! 😫😫😫😫

AND LOOK AT HIM, WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES AS TAESOO MA!!!! 😳 I think it was pretty obvious because Daniel Park did say that they’ll meet each other again.

HE’S EVEN WEARING THE SAME COAT AS TAESOO MA!!! And THAT’S the reason why he decided to join? Understandable. Eli Jang will eventually get his wake up call in the future. 😬

I miss this type of interaction between Jay and Daniel. It reminds me of the older Lookism chapters when they used to go to school and Daniel used to be the mediator. I’m just glad that we get to see Jay and Daniel together again, regardless if it’s Daniel in his OG body. 😭💞

OHHHHHH YEAHHHHHH, THE BADASSES ARE IN BUSINESS. ALL IN ONE CREW. 😎✨

ZACK BAHAHAHAHAHAHA. THIS HAD ME LMAAAAOOOOOO WHAT A MOOD.

BRUH. THESE PANELS OF SAMUEL BEING AN INSANE GOOF IS KILLING ME. 💀💀💀 HELP-

I honestly feel bad for him. He's been injected like TWICE so far. Wthhh 😭

OHHHHHH MY GOD. THAT TRANSITION???? HELLO??? IT’S ONE OF OUR FAV BLONDES!!!!! AHHHHHH I’VE BEEN WONDERING WHERE HE’S BEEN ALL THIS TIME.

PLEEEEASE, THE WAY HE’S WEAK FROM SHOTS BUT NOT WEAK FROM FIGHTING ANYONE.

THE BABY BAND-AID, I- SDHFJSDHFSJDFJSD HE’S SUCH A BABYYYYYYY. AHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN’T.

BROOOOO LOOK AT THIS FOOL. HE’S ALL GUCCI-ED OUT BRUH LIKE DAYUUUUUUM. His outfit could pay off my rent. (God, simping for this man is like a guilty pleasure. sheesh)

UMMMMM SIR. YOU’RE SAYING ALL OF THIS IN FRONT OF A DOCTOR????? Realistically, he’d call the police. Unless, if he’s affiliated with HNH Group or The Workers, thennnn... that’s probably why? IDK ANYMORE LMAO.

Also, tell me why I thought he was Seongjun Baek from Viral Hit for a second. 😂😂😂😂

Ummm... Are y’all REALLY going to talk about this right now?

WHILE YOU TWO ARE FALLING???????? 😰

Jake Kim, the GOAT. HE’S SUCH A GOOD GUY, AHHHHHHH. WE DON’T DESERVE JAKE. 😭😭😭😭 God, he’s such a kind soul. ❤️

She’s pretty and all, but I still resent her for what she did when she was still with the Workers. 😤

E W. LMAAOOOOOOOO NO.

PTJ really drawing pretty panels out here.

EWWWWWWW x2 LMFAAAAOOOOOO. GET FUCKED.

THIS IS SUCH A PRETTY SCENE ASDHFKJASDHFHJSDHF. DISNEY PRINCESS, WHO???? (Even though, I wouldn’t consider her as one because... yk... Wow, I really have mixed feelings about this.)

I guess they have their own “happy ending” even though Vivi doesn’t really deserve it imo lol.

JAMES LEE ALWAYS BE POPPIN WITH STYLE. HE SERVIN!!! 💅🏽

BRUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. PTJ REALLY GIVING US THESE ANGLES MAN. WTFFFFFFFFFFF???? BRO I CAN’T IMAGINE HOW THE JAMES LEE FANS MUST HAVE FREAKED OUT OVER THIS PANEL. HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA IM SOBBIN. 💀💀💀💀💀💀 (like, “Yes sir, let me sit on your lap.”)

For the James Lee simps: If you were to be there watching, what would you do? 😈

LMFAAAAOOOOOOO HE LOOKS SO FUNNY SITTING THERE, LEANING ONTO THAT LOW ASS CHAIR. WHY IS HE LEANING BACK LIKE THAT? BRUH I’M DEAD. 😭😭😭💀💀💀💀💀 HE LOOKS LIKE HE NEEDS TO TAKE A SHIT DURING THIS MEETING WITH EUGENE, SO HE HAD TO LEAN BACK JUST TO HOLD IT IN HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ayo Eugene, you better tell him once he does his part of the deal. No games pls, bc you play too much. 😘

#lookism #lookismaddict #lookism webtoon #lookism spoilers #lookism spoiler #lookism memes #daniel park #zack lee #lookism vasco #jay hong #hudson ahn #samuel seo #johan seong #goo kim #xiaolung #lookism eugene #james lee

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randomgentlefolk · 4 months

Text

CPC CHAPTER 164

I'm crying on the ground. Sobbing with my cat yet again. I feel so peaceful and destroyed at the same time.

Lambcat really said we should start the year with a breakdown huh

I'm gonna hold my breakdown until I talk about the moment.

Lance to the rescue!! Man I love that guy. I also really love how he looks in the panel I put as my pfp. He looks so soft and gentle :')

The interaction between Lance and Lorena is rising my hope that they will still be friends after the chaos ends.

This did caught me off guard lmao 😭 I'm sorry for saying this but is he implying that he has a thick skull because nahh he did himself dirty

Y'ALL IT'S THE MOMENT WE'VE (or at least me haha) ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Lance!!! Fighting against his kingdom!!! I'm so proud of him YOU GO LANCE!!!

Huge respect for Lance and his friends tho for CARRYING THAT HUGE PILLAR LIKE WHAT. Remember when I said something along the line of "if Frederick say he's weak while he can carry an entire llama, then I'm terrified of what Lance can do"? Yea this just proved my point.

Also I'm going to keep saying that Lance is going to have a sick scar with that x mark.

I once again wonder what is the legal age for alcohol in cpc? In US and the country I live in, the legal age is 21. But I think it's 18 in UK right? If it's 18 in cpc then that makes sense because Lance is 19 and Blaine is 20 (i'm saying this because of the beer pong comment by Lance's friend)

Sheesh, I hope Leland will be defeated from the king position soon. I don't want anyone to be executed. That would be disturbing.

Oooh!! Syrah and Saffron probably showing their fighting skill in the future episodes??? I hope so!!

Thank you Maria! It's nice to see that The pastel siblings now believe that Frederick truly loves Gwen.

Feeling like your legs are paralyzed whenever you're gonna face something you're terrified of is so real :( you can do it, Frederick! I believe in you!!

LELAND CHILL???? MAN YOUR HANDS ARE BLEEDING. Eat a snickers damnit. You're not you when you're going through a heart break xd

Oh. Okay. Ouch. Massive ow. Y'know when I said how the Monika's room episode and Frederick's monologue about what he wants really hits for me? Well add this to the list because wtfff.

Aww Gwegg :( She kept blaming herself even though it really isn't her fault. What Gwen said is pretty comforting though. Them apologizing to each other </3 It really is the shit when you realize you haven't treat yourself kindly. Like when you keep wondering why everything is wrong then you look at your inner self and go "oh. That's why".

GWEN SAYING "No matter what happens, I'll never let go of you again!" HAJWHSIWBS

INTOOOOO LEELATHAE'S BACKSTORY!!

*cue 1996 batman transition*

Aww the births of The Pastel Siblings! Though Leelathae's thought during each of the births...it breaks my heart :( it seems that she view the births of The Pastel Siblings as a way to apologize for her "mistake" (in which she didn't make any mistake at all), even though it shouldn't be like that at all...

I'm surprised no animals appear at Maria's birth lol. I was really expecting for a deer or birds to suddenly appear haha.

This IS making me a bit worried though. I don't know much about child births and stuff but while it is normal to still feel pain after giving birth, is it possible that there were some complications leading to Leelathae's dead 3 years after giving birth to Gwen and Jamie? I'll let someone more knowledgeable to figure out what is happening with Leelathae since I have no idea at all.

Anyway! Finally, a close up on Pastel Siblings as babies!! I know we've seen them before in the portraits beside Jack's bed, but it's nice to see them clearer.

Initially, I was worried how Leelathae would react to Gwen, but nevermind that

I'm so happy about this scene :') Leelathae realizing how beautiful Gwen is, even calling her the most beautiful in all the land. Also her saying as long as Gwen thinks she's beautiful, then what other people think doesn't matter makes me sob. Mother love is always something so touching.

On the other hand though, it made me a little confused now on why she asked Jack to lock up the children and never let them out. Looking at one of the fast pass episode's thumbnail, maybe it's because of the witch? We're nearing the end and there are still so many questions.

And now, INTO THE PRESENT! And the moment....

*cue 1996 batman transition*

I'M. I'M GONNA CRY. The fact that Gwen doesn't recognize Leelathae?? The fact that they're wearing the same robe???

WHEN LAMBCAT SAID THERE WASN'T ENOUGH GUT PUNCHES, SHE WAS BEING FR. I don't have anything to say about this scene, but at the same time I want to say a lot about this scene. Gwen's mom telling her that she's beautiful, Gwen crying without knowing why, I'm going to cry.

But hey, Gwegg is finally whole again! True love kiss is real after all ^_^ i love how Lambcat does a little spin at the classic true love kiss. But now that Gwen is finally awake...Well, let's just wish her, Frederick, Aurelia, and Celso good luck at dealing with the officially confirmed big bad wolf/serpent, Leland.

We kinda should thank Leland a bit, though. If he wasn't there ripping off all of the thorny veins, Gwen would get pretty hurt if she still wakes up while sitting up

Yooo the newest fast pass being the final chapter of Leelathae's diary? I hope we will have our questions answered!! And the fact that there's a witch in the thumbnail...hm.

That's it for now!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts)

#cursed princess club #cpc

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starqueensthings · 1 month

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WARNINGS: elusions to a traumatic past and an accompanying verbalized dislike for the opposite sex (June). Medical anxiety (Howzer). Moderately graphic descriptions of medical injuries, corrective procedures (incl what a cauterization might look/smell like), needles, the beginnings of an anxiety attack (June). RATING: 16+ for mature themes, mild to moderate whump, mild angst (and a heavy dash of fluff because why the heck not lol). WC: 3500ish. (This chapter and the previous were never intended to be separated but they accumulated to nearly 8k words, and snipping certain aspects of this encounter in the name of brevity would only do a disservice to the story, so I apologize for how abruptly this chapter transitions from the last). PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD BEFORE PROCEEDING FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY.

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Howzer’s eyes had thankfully done away with that ablaze and piercing stare in her temporary absence, though for how much of the intensity they’d lost, that twinkling set of amber had retained all of the warmth they seemed unable to entirely shed.

“Don’t know if I like the look of those,” he jested, though the way his eyes darted between her purple hands grossly betrayed the relentless facade of that feigned poise.

“Doesn’t warm them up, unfortunately, but at least you won’t catch my cooties,” June chuckled, hoping a dash of humour and a quirky wiggle of the fingers might soften the emotional toll she knew would accompany her next assertion. “Captain… I need to give you a pain injection.”

The sfotness of his expression hardened near-instantly, jaw tensing and forcing his lips into a frown that nowhere near-suited him as well as its round cheeked counterpart, and June could only grimace apologetically as he cocked an embittered eyebrow at her.

“We can’t use topical numbant on broken skin,” she beseeched in response to his silent disapproval. “The risk of trapping bacteria in the bloodstream is too high when the wound is as… open… as yours is. We can rawdog this if that’s really what you want, but you’ll have to try and sit still while I'm working. Or you can let me give you an in—”

“I can sit still,” he argued instantly, offering a shrug of the shoulders that was simply too passive for him to have understood the severity of the imminent procedure. “I’m great at sitting still.”

“While someone burns your skin back together with a kriffing hot needle?!”

Watching her words disintegrate that iron-clad intransigence would have been near-comical had his eyes not widened to something that too-closely resembled a trauma response, and despite knowing her brutal honesty was likely the quickest method to ensuring the full comprehension she needed from him before proceeding, her heart sank to lay with her stomach as she watched her words initiate an arrant downturn in his demeanour.

“Well geez, doc,” he grumbled, shirking from her pleading gaze by hanging his chin to his chest. “Why don’t you just give it to me straight…”

“I’m sorry,” she spoke quietly after swallowing the snort that near-followed his unexpected sardonicism. “Would it maybe help if I showed you the injector? You can see how it works and how tiny it actually is?”

“Maybe.” His response was near-silent, eyes flickering upward to hers only long enough to betray the decorum to which he still ardently clung.

Finally acceding to that inexplicable need to comfort him, and forsaking her better professional judgment, June clambered backward onto the bed beside him, that hovering cot momentarily swaying under the addition of her weight as she shimmied backward until they sat shoulder to shoulder.

“This is the actual USI tool,” she advised him, pulling the Universal Serum Injector from the previously collected pile of tools behind her and a small, orange-capped, crystal vial from her breast pocket. “And this lil guy is the Nociceptor Blocking Agent, or NBA serum. The vial clicks into the injector like this—” she snapped that tiny clear tube into place and pulled a small trigger to eject the cap, “—and the little orange top protecting the needle just kinda pops off. After that, it's as simple as poking it gently into the supraclavicular space right here at the base of your neck and waiting a moment for it to work.”

“And that’s it?” he asked, jaw shifting under the duress of how aggressively he continued to grind those teeth while his eyes remained affixed on the dinky little pin that would allegedly bring forth an excruciating death. “That’s all?”

“I promise.”

“Alright,” he finally conceded, shifting his attention upward to her eyes. “I trust you.”

Her stomach lurched at the way his gaze bore into hers, softly… acceptingly… unassertively… granting her the gifts of both his agency in that moment, and the degree of trust to which these always-suspecting soldiers notoriously only offered each other. Bottom lip nestling itself between her teeth to bridle the atypically bashful smile threatening to emerge, she simply nodded her gratitude and turned away from him.

“I’ll count down from three,” she cautioned, sneakers slapping atop the steel floor as she leaped somewhat ungracefully from the bed and oriented herself in front of him. “Three—” she kept the injector hidden at her side. “Two—” a gentle hand placed on his shoulder to brace his skin for impact. “One.”

The span of a tense blink over those amber eyes saw her expertly plunge the tiny needle home and release the entire vial of that magical serum. By the time his gaze returned to hers, one eye at a time, she’d deftly retracted the empty container and chucked it into the “sharps” bin beside the bed.

“Are you kidding me?” he demanded, the grin peeling across his lips surprising her enough to still her hands as they reached for the bottle of disinfectant. “That’s all?!”

“That’s all,” she answered with a small shrug.

“Maker, I am going to murder Gauge when I see him.”

“Who?” June asked, as she unscrewed the lid and peeled back the sanitary foil sticker put in place over the mouth of the bottle to prevent any unwanted microbes from contaminating its contents.

“Gauge. He’s my medic,” Howzer explained with eyes crinkled to near-closed, shoulders shaking beneath each huff of his amusement. “He’s in for it, now. Kriffing sadist jabs that thing into us like it's a spoon.”

“A sadist combat medic?” June snorted, screwing the cap back into place. “That’s a very worrying combination. You better try and stay on his good side.”

“He better stay on mine,” Howzer asserted, shaking his head.

The all-consuming (and mouth watering) recognition of his partial nudity did not make an appearance in her awareness until she sat back on her heels, eyes quickly scanning the position she’d meticulously positioned him in after climbing onto the cot beside him. By leaning him on an incline away from her and resting his arm innocuously atop his head, she’d unknowingly provided herself with both optimal wound access, and an unobstructed view of his remarkable physique. The only thing darker than the smattering of hair south of his navel was the brown of nipples near-perfectly perched on either side of the most divinely-crafted chest she’d ever seen. And rivaling every ridge, every contour of that muscular torso, were arms so immaculately sculpted that the only fight she could wage against the heat boiling below her skin was to strip off her now smothering labcoat and toss it onto the chair next to his armour.

And though she continued to cling to that necessary professionalism as fervently as he’d initially clung to his own stubborn refusal for pain control, there was absolutely no preventing her eyes from hungrily roaming atop the ripples of his ribcage as she scooched into position behind him, and attempting to stay focused as she squeezed that plastic bottle of saline overtop his wound was near impossible as those defined ridges of muscles continued to revolt against every drop of cold liquid trickling down his abdomen.

Something near relief pulled a sigh from her lips when that bottle finally emptied. Patting the wound dry with clean gauze in her right hand, she deftly pulled the medscanner from her pocket with her left and spun the dial on the front to reach the Hematology menu. Once that tiny infrared beam had confirmed there were no lingering signs of any foreign cells or bacteria, she stowed that invaluable tool on the bed beside her and reached, instead, for the cauterizing pen now emitting tiny puffs of white smoke.

“So what happened to you?” she probed moments later, ensuring Howzer’s eyes had deviated from that smoking needle before carefully touching it to his skin. “Get in a fight with a vibroblade wielding droid?”

“I wish,” he snorted. “It was… well, pretty stupid. The guys and I were transferring possession of our base to the relieving battalion. I gave the okay for the gunships to take off and then got distracted catching up with a buddy I haven’t seen since graduating. One of my men saw me getting left behind and decided shooting a grappling hook at me would be the best way to get me on board.”

“Maker have mercy,” she scoffed, brows furrowing in concentration as methodically guided the white hot tool atop that separated skin. “That’s idiotic.”

“Might have been cool if it worked,” Howzer answered. “Geo’s a smart guy, but doesn’t always think things through before he acts. He’s on my list after Gauge for the next time I feel— what's that smell?!”

She barely had time to disengage that red hot pin before every muscle in his abdomen contracted under the urgent and desperate effort of sitting up.

“Don’t look!” she snapped at him as he hastened to peer under his arm in her direction. Clamping one gloved hand atop that crisp and darkened line of fused skin she knew would likely make his stomach turn, she attempted to block his view with the palm of the other. “Trust me, it’s a sore sight right now, especially if you’re squeamish.”

She peeked around her palm, lips pursing to keep from smiling at the sight of him perched up on his free elbow, nose scrunched in utter repugnance as the putrid smell of burnt flesh continued to waft upward into his nose.

“Is… is that the smell of—?”

“Sure is,” she answered curtly. “And it smells as crispy as it looks so while you’re working on not looking, maybe try not breathing too.”

“‘Try not breathing…’” he repeated in little more than a whisper, dropping carefully back onto his side, and June was relieved to hear a chuckle supporting his words. “I know you’re the doctor, but I feel like breathing might be helpful here…”

“My boss would absolutely lay an egg if he heard me offer such heinous medical advice.” Her eyes narrowed under the embrace of genuine amusement as laughter poured from her lips, the image of Challa’s newly introduced perma-scowl forming as clearly in her mind's eye as if he’d been standing at her elbow. “That and the daily reminder of all the cold-hand complaints he has to field from my patients…”

Flooded with a wave of foreboding, June remembered the meeting Challa had requested in his office upon completion of this procedure, and the implications of what his request undoubtedly meant had her eyes near-rolling and the smile yanked from her lips. Challa didn’t often demand a private audience… at least, not with her. The last adventure into the intimidating confines of his windowless space had included a harsh castigation for the excessive overtime she’d shouldered over the last few weeks, and to request that she start walking around between surgeries with her hands nestled into her armpits so he could get through a day without having to apologize on behalf of her poor circulation.

After permitting a sigh laden with repressed dread to pass through now frowning lips, she sat back and peered down at the result of her handiwork. Despite having to battle the distraction of the dimples teasing her from the base of his back, she’d managed to complete a remarkably clean repair job; the cauterized edges of what used to be that oozing laceration were both crisp and dark, indicating the ideal clinical end point for such a procedure. After powering off that trusty tool and placing it back beside the computer, she retrieved the tub of burn salve perched only inches from her hip.

“Can I tell you something now?” Howzer spoke suddenly as she uncapped that pot of that sulfur-smelling ointment.

“Sure,” she answered while scooping a generous amount of the orange paste from its container and beginning to smear it carefully atop his side.

“Your fingers are freakishly cold… but anyone who complains about the hands that saved their lives, maybe doesn’t deserve to have been saved in the first place.”

Whatever distant presumption she’d formulated in that microsecond between granting him that unnecessary permission and hearing his opinion voiced, it was nowhere-near matched the unexpectedly profound admonition that left those now-smiling lips.

She paused, hands stilling in their motion of reaffixing the lid back on the tub as she fought to wrangle the dozen or so fundamental reasons why she did not agree with him… and the one reason she did.

“Doesn’t everyone deserve to be saved?” she settled on asking, collecting one of the several bacta patches she’d grabbed earlier.

“Do you actually believe that? Or is that something they tell you to believe?”

His challenge came so simply… so earnestly, it was as if she’d somehow offered him the exact response that he’d expected, and despite the bold nature of his rebuttal, there was no sign of regret lingering in those charmingly superficial lines around his eyes; his gaze did not shift to timidly follow the movements of her hands as they proceeded to tear off the paper backing from that patch but, instead, remained intently searching her eyes for the truth.

”Well, there’s an exception to every rule,” June explained, feeling her cheeks begin to flush under the duress of the vulnerability he had suddenly requested from her. “But surely everyone deserves the same chance at life?”

He offered only a contemplative hum in response, watching her lower that clear polymer patch onto his skin, and ensuring its complete adhesion by pressing firmly around its perimeter.

“Who’s your exception?”

She’d barely begun to crumple the backing paper when he spoke again, pushing himself back to a seated position so quickly that his return to such close proximity nearly froze the breath in her lungs. Yet, more paralyzing in that moment was the audacious probes into her personal beliefs; his brazen yet polite demands for clues as to who she was beyond this already untraditional doctor-patient exchange. And as her gaze flickered upwards from her rubbish laden hand, attempting to find even a glimpse of derision or contempt between those dark, relaxed brows was a feat near impossible, as those honeyed eyes had upheld much of the same twinkle that had already proven held the power to dismantle her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she answered atop an artificial chuckle.

It was the most she could offer on the small waft of breath her lungs had managed to thaw, and how close she’d come to conceding his tacit request… to actually uttering her truth… to divulging that forbidden secret… unsettled her more thoroughly than any inexplicable degree of attraction had since stepping into 18-S.

“Yes. I would.”

He leaned ever closer, eyes dancing across her features, each lagging blink wordlessly communicating that he’d sit there for eternity if it promised him even a glimmer of her being behind the guise she upheld with a labcoat; that there was some unidentifiable quality about her that he found equally as enamoring; that perhaps if he poked carefully enough at certain spots in this facade of hers, he may actually truly see her.

“Another time, Captain,” she whispered, wrenching her eyes from his and climbing hurriedly off the bed.

“Will there be one?” he asked before she’d even taken a step.

She looked downward to her shoes and the floor firmly beneath them, eyes unfocussing, heart thumping heavily in her ears, lip twitching beneath the sudden urge to hide itself between her teeth lest she say more. She swallowed.

“Keep trying to grapple your way into a gunship and there might be.”

She didn’t turn to watch that grin peel across his lips, instead making a direct line for the Cleanser Tube to retrieve his long-forgotten shirt. Unable to meet his eyes again, she simply tossed it in his direction, muttering a “you can get dressed,” before hurrying to the safety of her near-hidden perch behind the holocomputer and jabbing it back to life.

A prickle erupted atop her skin entirely different from the series of others that had accompanied each bashful smile since the beginning of this somewhat atypical encounter. She was suddenly uncomfortable; suddenly sweating as if she’d just been thrown center stage and was attempting to hide from the beaming spotlight that she’d never asked to be in; suddenly yearning to have her labcoat back on; suddenly and horrifyingly unable to refute the fortuitous connection to this person that she had once tried to label as mere pity, and suddenly desperate to escape it.

Most dismaying was the nearly irrepressible urge to allow him. To tell him. To share. To accept. Blind and potent attraction to someone was one thing; pity was another… but this superseded all other aspects of this precariously flirtatious conversation despite having not been flirtatious in nature at all, and for the first time in a long time, she felt unequipped… unprepared…

‘You hate men,’ she reminded herself, hoping that long-chanted mantra may hold the power to simply erase Howzer from both this room and her awareness.

“Layer two subdermal laceration–” she typed near frantically as he stood to redress. “–Located quadrant 6... 18.4 cm in length… full thickness separation. Hematology shows no evidence of infection or foreign cells. Patient may experience slight hypertrophic scarring. Treated in situ with precision cauterization, Nifuran burn cream, and bacta patch. Escharotomy is not required at this time. Aftercare discussed. Patient discharged forthwith. Care to be continued by CM.”

Piece by piece, his armour clicked back into place, years of practicing those repetitive yet crucial motions had evidently rendered him a near-master at recladding that broad frame in record time, and chancing even the most fleeting glance in his direction saw her increasingly disappointed in herself; the image of his semi naked form now utterly eradicated by the sheer majesty of seeing his tall figure encompassed in that dominating kit.

She could delay no longer, and feigning ignorant of his perch by the door where he stood patiently waiting with her labcoat draped atop the cleanest section of his arm, dwindled in credibility with every extended second she took to type and retype those same treatment notes.

“There in one sec,” she told him without offering him the respect of eye contact, powering off the computer and stalking back toward the storage cupboard to collect a series of other necessities.

He smiled as she approached moments later, eyeing the assortment of supplies she’d clamped somewhat awkwardly in her still purple hands.

“These are for you,” she told him, the desperation to leave his presence and seek the respite of her office intensifying with every second that he cast a smile in her direction. “This little tub is burn cream— it smells like rotten eggs but it’ll help exacerbate the healing process. That patch needs changing every 24 hours, and sooner if the area gets wet so here’s a bunch more. Twist a corner to rip the paper on the back, and then press hard around the edges to activate the adhesive. It’s in a bit of an odd spot, so Gauge may have to help you. He can access my treatment notes using any MedBay computer if he needs them.”

He took each product with a nod of understanding, turning each over in his hands briefly before pocketing them in a cargo pouch nestled on his lower back. Unable to withstand another moment with the undulation in her stomach, she offered Howzer one last smile before turning toward the door.

“Don’t forget this,” he said as she prodded a button on the control panel to free her.

“Oh, right,” she scoffed, collecting her lab coat from his arm with her lip between her teeth and pulling it back over her shoulders.

“Uh– doc?” Howzer probed as she pivoted to enter the chaos awaiting her across the threshold.

“Yeah, Captain.”

“Er… thank you for– you know. It was really nice to meet you. And— and I’m happy you’re not a droid.”

Though his hands uselessly shifted that battered helmet tucked below his arm, he upheld the integrity of his gaze as she peered over her shoulder at him.

“It’s June.” She answered without thinking, the confession swinging a right hook in the direction of both her professional and personal judgment. “My name’s June.”

She left 18-S without another word, without lingering to digest his reaction, without bothering to offer the proper valediction that she should have. She needed her office, she needed to breathe air that wasn’t polluted with the undeniable connection to this random man, and she needed it now.

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