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starry-eyes-love · 16 days

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Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (One-shot, AU, No Outbreak). One-shot but in the same universe as Marriage Dynamics. This happens way later than the storyline within that series though. Can be read as a stand-alone or within the series.

Summary | Joel feels a little self conscious that he has to admit to you, his wife, that he has erectile dysfunction, and that he’s out of his little blue pills. You, being the understanding and loving woman that you are, remind him just how sexy he is, even with his little problem and that love doesn’t come with conditions.

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut.

Age gap (58/40s), language, husband/wife dynamics, got some angst in this one (but it ends where they are ok and happy), smut, f! (fingering), m! (hand job), mentions of f! (oral), slight body descriptions (she states she’s 30 lbs heavier), mentions of erectile dysfunction and Joel having to take Viagra, Joel being out of Viagra (that poor man), sweet and tender moments, comfort, terms of endearment, you teasing Joel that he’s old and him showing you that he’s not. This is basically half story and half smut, so enjoy :)

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The longer your husband snapped his powerful hips and ground into you, the more worked up you were getting. Joel knew how to work you up, get you so riled up that you’d beg him to fuck you. You were trying to bite back your moans and whimpers, not wanting to give in right away. But when you heard Joel speak filthy things into your ear, you turned into a needy, whimpering little mess.

Joel stood in the bathroom, looking up at himself in the mirror while sighing. He didn’t know how it happened. How did he become an old man where his body required medication to function normally. Here he was, 58, with a worn out body that he no longer recognized. He had spent his entire life working construction, and now he was feeling it. He had aches and pains in places that he didn’t even know existed. He took blood pressure and cholesterol medication everyday just to keep his body somewhat on the right track. But worst of all, he had to start taking a small blue pill to help him obtain and sustain an erection. Yup, Joel Miller was diagnosed about six months ago with erectile dysfunction, something that he thought only old men got. But here he was, 58, and having to take Viagra just so he could properly fuck his wife. Joel didn’t know what was worse, having to take the little blue pill or the fact that you knew nothing about it. To make matters worse, he ran out of his special little pills, and he couldn't get any more until about six weeks. His doctor was on vacation and wanted to see Joel upon his return before re-filling his prescription. Joel didn't know how, but he had to figure out a way to keep you happy, without embarrassing himself any further. As he ran a hand down his face, he exhaled loudly, mumbling to himself ‘goddamn, when the hell did I get old?’

“What's that scowl for, old man, especially so early in the morning?” You teased, walking up to the other sink in the bathroom to wash your face. Your master bathroom now had two sinks, his and hers. It was a side project that Joel had completed last summer with the help from Tommy. He got tired of your constant nagging of finding his facial hair trimmings in the sink. So he decided to knock out a few walls and build you your very own sink with counter space. A his and hers master bathroom off from your bedroom. It only took a few weekends, but eventually his little side project was done. Now you both had enough counter space, where the two of you weren't bickering about where everything went in the bathroom anymore. Joel no longer grumbled about you taking up his side of the counter with your serums and ointments for your face. And you no longer nagged him about finding his beard trimmings in the sink.

“Quit it,” he had huffed, giving you a dirty look in the mirror as he finished trimming his beard.

“Woah, what's that look for?” You asked, taking a few steps towards him to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Good morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?”

Joel exhaled and shook his head, mumbling to you, “mornin,’” as you went over to your sink to wash your face. You knew Joel enough to know that this scowl on his face was only reserved for when he was upset about something or someone. You had hoped that someone wasn't you.

“Did I piss you off or something?” You asked while looking at him in the mirror, trying to figure out where his sour mood was coming from. “You're awfully grumpy this morning.” When he didn't respond, you replied again with a little more bite to your words. “Well, for someone who got laid last night, you don't seem very happy about it today.”

Joel huffed at you while rolling his eyes and mumbling, “yeah, well, I'm paying for it this morning now ain't I? M’back is fucking killing me.”

Oh, so that's why he was grumpy.

A part of you instantly became frustrated at his statement, but you bit your lip and tried not to say something inappropriate back. You enjoyed last night a lot with your husband, especially when you begged him to go harder. His answer to that request was to hold your head against the mattress as he fucked you hard from behind. It had been a long time since Joel Miller became unhinged like that in the bedroom, and if you were being honest with yourself, it felt fucking fantastic. It was something that you desperately missed. However, according to Joel’s comments and current mood, apparently he didn't feel the same way today as you did. He was now hurting, wincing as he twisted to grab the scissors to trim his mustache. You didn't want Joel to regret doing what he did with you, nor did you want him to be in any pain. His obvious lack of enthusiasm this morning about your midnight activities made you feel self-conscious. Nodding your head you said “ok,” as you attempted to wash your face. But when you stood there you felt yourself get anxious and self conscious about last night.

Did he not enjoy it with me? Maybe it’s because I’m not as thin as I used to be anymore? I did put on about 30 pounds over the years, so maybe I hurt him with my weight? You knew your body had changed a lot over the years, you no longer had a flat stomach or a tight ass. You had what people called a mom body. A slightly curvy, unattractive, stretch-mark laced body that carried three kids. Your later adult years were more about raising your kids than it was about going to the gym and looking sexy like a model or a porn star.

As you stood there, allowing your mind to run wild at the reasons why Joel may have not enjoyed himself last night, your hands started to tremble slightly and your eyes started to sting from the tears that were threatening to form. You quickly splashed water over them to try to stop the emotional reaction that you were getting. You were very hormonal recently, especially since your doctor said that you needed to stop your birth control. She told you several months ago that it wasn't healthy for a woman in her forties to continue to take birth control. So you stopped last month, two months after Joel got a vasectomy. Joel and you were done having kids. With Sarah finishing college, and with three kids that you had with him still at home, you had agreed that the only other future babies that would be in your house would be future grandchildren. What you didn't realize was that when you stopped birth control you would become more sensitive with your emotions again as your body adjusted.

Usually any type of grumpy behavior or comments from Joel like this wouldn't bother you under normal circumstances, but today you were extra sensitive and emotional. It didn't help that you had been super horny for your husband for the past two weeks while he was gone on a business trip. With the lack of kids for the weekend, Joel had taken his last blue pill right before he got home. When he got home, he barely made it through the door before he was thrusting himself deep inside of you, claiming you once again as his.

Now as Joel stood there, watching you through the mirror, he knew something was up. You kept alternating between splashing water on your face and then drying it. When he saw you do it a fourth time, he had to say something to you.

“Babe,” he said, trying to get your attention. When you didn't answer, but kept up your routine of splashing water onto your face, he knew something was wrong. He also noticed that you untied and retied your robe several times, mumbling to yourself that you hated your mom-type body.

Fuck, Joel thought. He could see that you were reading too much into his mood and that you probably were coming to the wrong conclusion yet again with his attitude. Joel wasn't upset or grumpy from the sex he had last night, because damn he loved your body so much. He was so turned on by it last night. He loved pounding his wife��s tight little pussy and hearing all those filthy little noises that you made for him. The reason for his sour mood this morning was because he was out of those damn blue pills, the ones that allowed him to be buried deep inside of you as he heard you moan his name.

When you didn't answer him, he tried again. “Honey, will ya look at me for a second?” When you finally looked up at him, he saw your lip quiver and the tears begin to fall. He immediately let out an exaggerated sigh, mumbling ‘fuck’ under his breath.

As soon as you turned to leave, Joel spoke up saying, “baby, I didn't mean anything by it. Fuck, c’mere will ya.” You had only gotten about three steps out of the door before Joel grabbed you by the waist and pulled you hard against his chest.

“Baby c’mon, I didn’t mean it like that. No, shh, it’s okay, don’t cry,” Joel said, holding you close. He had one arm around your waist holding you firm to his body, while his other hand was gently wiping the tears from your eyes. You wouldn't turn to look at him, so he just held you against his chest while trying to console you. “Baby, come on now. Shhh, don't cry sugar. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I'm not cryin’,” you mumbled, trying to sound stern, but failing miserably at your attempt. Joel cupped your cheek, and gently turned your head back towards him, kissing you tenderly while continuing to softly tell you that he was sorry for his mood and that he loved you.

Joel Miller may be several things in life. He may be grumpy and not very communicative from time to time. Often he’s described by others as being an asshole, especially when people piss him off. Usually he doesn't apologize for his grumpiness or gruffness, unless it's dealing with family. And it fucking kills him to see you, his wife, someone that he desperately loves and cares for cry because of his behavior. Joel never likes seeing you cry, in fact, it’s his least favorite thing to see.

After a few moments of tender kisses, Joel slowly started to deepen them into more passionate ones. He was walking a fine line here. He was trying to make up for being an asshole to you this morning, but also trying not to progress it too far where his lack of ability in performance would be seen. But with those little whimpers that you were doing, along with how you were gently nipping his neck, Joel found his resolve quickly crumbling.

“Baby, we gotta slow down,” he said, nipping at your collarbone and then giving you a hot and messy kiss to your lips.

God, it felt so good kissing his wife like this. Joel didn't remember the last time you two made out like this; all lips, tongue and teeth. He slowly backed you up to the wall and then hoisted you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. After another needy whimper from your mouth, Joel's resolve completely crumbled and he found himself thrusting hard up into you and grinding his hips against your clothed core.

“Is this what my baby wants, huh? Does she want her husband to show her who’s boss? To show her how a real man fucks, hmm?

“Yes. Please baby, f-fuck me. Show me how a real man does it, I need it,” you panted, reaching down to unbuckle and unbutton his pants. Your cunt was practically throbbing. So desperate to feel your husband’s stretch, to feel so full of him. Joel was a big man, he was long and thick. You always enjoyed the sting of his stretch, and the heaviness of his cock inside of you.

As soon as you touched Joel’s belt, he remembered the big problem that he had. He was only half hard with the inability to get fully hard for you. Goddamn fucking pills. Joel, feeling embarrassed at the situation, gently set you back down while placing a hand on top of yours. He was trying to stop you from reaching inside his pants.

“Baby, fuck, we can't” he said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours, breathing slow, trying to find a way out of this embarrassing situation.

“What? Why? I don't understand,” you said with disbelief. You were trying to understand why your husband, who had been gone several weeks on a work trip, didn't want to have sex with you when the kids were gone. “Is it your back, honey?” You asked somewhat perplexed. “If it is, I can be on top and do all the work for you if you want. I don't mind, really.” You said, trying to reason with Joel to let you touch him more. When he didn't respond you reached forward and palmed him, feeling him only half hard.

“Please stop.” Joel said in a stern voice, grabbing your hand and gently removing it. “I- uh, I can't- fuck- we can’t, ok.” He said, voice shaking as he slowly backed away from you, running a hand down his face. He was disgusted with himself and the fact that he couldn’t give his wife the proper attention that she deserved.

You stood there bewildered, unable to make sense of what was happening. Did Joel Miller just turn down sex? In all the years you two have been having sex together, he has never once stopped sex from progressing. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out why all of a sudden he’d stop you. And the only solution that you could think of was that maybe you weren’t the only person he was seeing like this. Maybe he, just like your father, had found a new favorite toy on the sideline. You looked at your husband with mortified eyes, fighting with the firm possibility that maybe he was no different than your dad; a lying, cheating, bastard. “Wow mom, I guess you were right, all men do fucking cheat.”

Joel snapped his head up in your direction at your statement. What did you mean that all men cheat? What the hell were you even talking about?

As you started to walk past Joel he grabbed your arm and said, “what the fuck do you mean all men cheat?”

“Joel, please” you said, struggling to keep your voice even.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and grabbing both of your arms, slightly shaking you in his grasp. “You think I’m cheatin’ on you, is that it? That I’m fucking another woman. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he growled.

“Joel, please don’t do this. I-I-”

Joel saw your eyes in that moment, saw that you thought he was fucking someone else. That wasn't the case. He didn't want to admit his problem, but goddamn it, he wasn’t going to have you think that he was no different than your father. Joel had no idea all those years that his best friend, your father, was using him as a goddamn babysitter so that piece of shit could go out and ball half of Austin as your mother recovered from her cancer treatments before she died of cancer. No. Joel wasn’t a piece of shit like that, and goddamn, it killed him to have his wife think so low of him.

“Baby, ya gotta believe me. I ain’t fucking around on you, ok? Please sugar, ya gotta believe me. I’d never do that.” He said, clenching his jaw, battling with the anger and rage that was rising up inside of his mind. He didn’t want to explode at you over this. He wasn’t mad at you, he was disgusted with himself of why he wasn’t honest with you when all of this shit started for him.

Joel’s problem of not getting or being able to sustain an erection didn’t happen right away. It was a slow process. At first he thought that maybe it was because things in the bedroom had gotten a little stale. But when Joel struggled to keep an erection even when he was alone, he knew that something was wrong. He didn’t want you to worry, so he didn’t say anything to you. After a lot of embarrassing situations at home, and with himself, he decided that he needed to bring it up to his doctor. After a few tests, his doctor had diagnosed him with erectile dysfunction, and then had given him a prescription of Viagra to try. At first Joel was nervous about taking them, wondered if he’d feel different. But once he did, holy shit, it felt amazing. Those little blue pills were like a magic drug. He could last longer and was harder than he’d been in years. When he noticed your increase in sex drive because of it, he felt like he won the lottery, especially when he could give you two orgasms with just his dick alone.

But slowly, his secret was getting harder and harder to keep from you. He quickly realized that those pills took anywhere between 15 to 60 minutes before they started working, which created a problem when you were trying to be spontaneous with him in the bedroom. At first he played it off at being tired, needing to rest for a little bit. Sometimes he’d also tell you that he needed to take a shower first, to freshen up for you. But when you’d wake him up on a Sunday morning, rested and freshly showered the night before, he struggled keeping his secret. He started using blindfolds in the bedroom when the two of you would have sex, so he could hide the fact that he had to take a pill quick. Sometimes when he waited for it to work, he’d give you oral sex and edge you. On days when he couldn’t do that, he’d just lie and tell you that he had a really bad headache and he couldn’t have sex right now.

He hated lying to you. He always wanted to tell you the truth, but every time he got the nerve to tell you something would happen or it just wasn’t the right time. If he was being honest, he didn’t tell you because he felt embarrassed and ashamed at the situation.

As you took another step to go around him, he yelled out “I got erectile dysfunction, ok. And as much as I'd love to fuck ya right now, my dick won't- fuck- it doesn’t get hard like it used to and I ran out of my prescription pills. I ain’t cheatin’, I never have, and I’ve never wanted to. You got to believe me. I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been honest. But baby, I can’t do it anymore with you like we used to.” He said, voice cracking at the end. Joel covered his eyes for a moment with his hand, wiping the tears away.

“I want to fuck you so much right now, so much. But I can’t, ya hear me. It ain’t a different reason, baby. My body, it just won’t let me do it anymore. It won’t let me be the man that I’m supposed to be for you.”

You stood there shocked at his admittance. When you went to open your mouth to console him, Joel quickly cut you off by saying, “I don't need your pity right now. I know I can't perform up to my wife's satisfaction anymore without help. And before you ask, no, I can’t take a pill right now. I have to wait until my doctor is back from vacation in six weeks. And I get it, you can’t wait that long and-”

“Joel” you said, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. “Honey, I'm so sorry that this has happened.” He scowled at you with your reply, shaking his head and trying to step away. “Baby, please let me finish,” you said, forcing him to stay near you.

After taking a big breath you said, “I wish you would have told me about this when it happened instead of hiding it. Can you get an erection at all or?”

“Sometimes I can,” he said with a sigh, “but it ain't anything to write home about.” Joel let out a long exacerbated sigh. “Fuck, I can't fuck my wife when it's only half hard like this ok, and I’d appreciate it if you didn't think less of me for it and-”

“Joel Allen Miller,” you said in a commanding tone. “I would never think less of you for this. Baby, I love you, and everything about you. Yeah it does cause a little bit of an adjustment for us, but honey, I don’t care. You’re my husband and you should never feel like you can’t tell me something like this, ok?” You then gently cupped your husband with your hand, slowly palming him, feeling him slightly stiffen.

“Baby I-” Joel said, straining, trying to stay level with his voice and not break down with his words again. He didn't feel like a worthy man right now, and he was so embarrassed to feel or admit it.

“Please, Joel” you softly spoke, “let me try baby, please?”

“Darlin', it ain't gonna-”

“It doesn't have to get fully hard. Just please, please let your wife show her husband how fucking sexy he is, even with this little problem.”

“It ain't a little problem darlin’.” He said, slowly leaning his hips into your touch. He desperately wanted to feel his wife, to be inside her, to fuck her and hear her moan his name.

“I know it ain’t a little problem honey,” you whispered, gently nipping Joel’s neck. You slowly started to unfasten his belt and unzipped his pants, lowering them with his boxers down to the floor. You encouraged him to step out of them, trying to get him as comfortable as possible. As you stood up, you slowly licked your hand, and then gently wrapped it around his half hardened cock, slowly stroking him the way he liked. You were also nipping, kissing, and lightly sucking on his neck, on the places that you knew drove your husband wild. As you continued, you whispered loving messages to him, things that you hoped would remind Joel of how much you loved him.

“You are so sexy baby, and so big and strong. I feel so safe with you. I've missed you so much. I missed hearing you snore,” Joel let out a little grunt at that statement. “I've missed hearing you play your guitar, humming in the morning while you make your coffee. I've missed kissing you goodnight, and waking up next to you in the morning with you holding me.”

Joel leaned forward more, pushing your back against the wall as he tapped one of your legs to open wider for him. He quickly placed his hand down your sleep shorts and started playing with your clit as you talked.

“I-ah-I also missed your, your-”

“You missed my what darlin'?” He growled, thrusting his hips into your hand as he started moving two of his large fingers in and out of your wet, throbbing core.

“Shit Joel, I'm-”

“Did ya miss this baby? Did ya miss your husband's fat fingers fucking you dumb?” He said, nipping at your sensitive spot on your shoulder.

“Mmhmm” you said, tightening your grip around his half hardened cock. Joel wasn't lying, he really did have erectile dysfunction. But at this moment, you didn't care. Your husband was curling those fingers perfectly inside of you, to where you were almost seeing stars while he continued to snap his hips back and forth hard, helping you stroke him the way he liked.

Even though he wasn't buried deep inside of you. Something about the lewd noises the two of you were making, in combination with not being able to see your husband for the past two weeks, was rapidly propelling you towards the edge with your orgasm.

Joel could feel your breaths becoming more erratic, and could feel your walls tightening around his fingers. He was also getting closer to finishing himself. Your hand was the perfect tight fit around his cock. He kept rocking his hips back and forth, fucking your hand, feeling himself leak precum everywhere. He wanted to bury himself so badly inside of you, but he knew that he couldn't. Just as he started to feel self conscious again about the situation, your filthy mouth forced him to stay in the moment.

“God, baby, I fucked myself so hard with my fingers when you were gone. But nothing ever felt as good as yours do right now. Fuck, next time I want to fuck myself with my fingers, I'm just gonna use yours-oh fuck.”

“Oh, you dirty fucking girl. Shit- You were fucking those- yeah baby- those small little fingers inside of you pretending- fuck- pretending that they were mine, huh?” He said, speeding up his thrusts with his hips and with his fingers.

“Yes Joel, fuck, don’t stop baby, please don’t-”

“I won’t stop, not until you gush around me.”

The two of you continued to pleasure each other, bringing each other towards the edge, but neither one tipping over just yet. “Joel, I need more, baby. P-please, give me more,” you moaned. You were desperately snapping your hips back and forth, wishing it was your husband’s cock that was inside of you.

“Aw baby, look at you, riding my fingers like the dirty little girl that y’are.”

“Joel, baby, please-”

“Say it,” Joel growled, “say I'm the only one who makes you feel this good.”

“You are Joel, you are.”

“Say I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little pussy whenever I want.”

“Fuck- You do Joel, you do. It's yours, she's all yours.”

“She's all mine, huh?” Joel said, feeling your walls put his fingers in a choke hold with how tight you were squeezing him. “If she's all mine, then do it. Fucking come for me. Show me who's pussy this really belongs to. Ya heard me, I said come, now,” Joel growled. That coil that had wound itself so tight in your belly snapped hard at Joel’s command. You screamed your husband's name as you coated his fingers with your juices. Joel tightened his grip around your hand that was stroking him, while continuing to work you through your orgasm. After a few more hard thrusts himself, he came all over your hand.

You both slowly came down from your highs, and you couldn't help but giggle at the acts that the two of you just did. It brought back memories of when Joel and you dated. As Joel’s giggles eased he slowly ran his hand that was coated with your juices through your hair.

“Hey you,” he said, smiling fondly down at you. God he loved you so much, in every way possible. You were his soulmate, his better half.

“Wow, where the heck did that come from?” You said, giggling to yourself again. When you looked up you saw how Joel was looking at you, like he could see your soul.

“I love you so much, you know that right?” He said, slowly running his nose along your jaw.

“I know,” you said, sighing at his affection.

He then grabbed your hair hard in the back of your head, pulling down slightly to force you to look up at him. It didn't hurt, just surprised you a bit, which forced you to listen to the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Then never, ever, hint at the possibility of me wanting to fuck another woman again, ok. Baby, you are the only one for me. I ain't your father, and I sure as fuck ain't my ex-wife.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of Joel's ex-wife, he never told you the in-depth story of what happened, just the highlights that they drifted apart. “Joel, I-”

“No, sweetheart, I ain't talkin’ about her. What's done is done. Just, don't ever say that to me again, hinting that I'd cheat on you. Cause baby, I'd never, haven't ever, won't-”

“Ok Joel, I promise. No more fussin’.” You gently kissed your husband, giving him the slow intimate affection he was just giving you. After a few more passionate and tender kisses, Joel sighed and rested his head against your forehead, while rubbing his nose slowly against your nose.

“I reckon we both need a shower,” he said after a moment, exhaling and laughing slightly to himself. “Come on, I'll get the shower started.”

When Joel got to the bathroom doorway you said, “wait a sec,” and then walked up to him as he turned around to look at you.

“Next time, please tell me this stuff ok? No more secrets.” He nodded his head in understanding as you leaned up and placed another tender kiss to his lips. When you pulled back you added, “good, cause I hate to break it to you. You’re officially now an old man.” Then with another small peck to his cheek, you sauntered off into the bathroom, giggling at the nickname that you gave him back when he was in his thirties. After starting the shower and getting in, you yelled back “are you coming old man, or do I need to help you with your wheelchair?”

“No wiseass, ya don't,” he yelled, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head at your smartass remark.

When he looked down he saw himself in the mirror once again. Yes, he did have gray in his beard, in his hair, and on his chest. He also could see that he wasn’t as physically fit as he once was in his 30s, but he still looked good. He needed glasses to read most of the time now, and you and Sarah constantly harassed him about it. But that was ok. He liked it, and he loved you both dearly. He also creaked worse than the old board on the stairs, along with feeling his age every time he tried to do something that he knew he shouldn't.

Sure, he had to take medication for his high blood pressure and high cholesterol. And now he got to add a little blue pill to the regimen, just so he could have sex with his wife. He was also at that age where he needed a colonoscopy done, something that was scheduled next week for him.

With all of these things going on, Joel did have to admit that he was older than when he first started dating you. But even with this admission, he knew from the moments before that he’s never made you come so hard in your life from just his fingers alone. So you could say getting old did have its advantages.

With a small smirk on his face, and a slight puff to his chest, Joel quickly entered the shower with you. When you turned around he said, “old my ass. I'll show you who's old, ya little shit.” Joel then dropped down to his knees and ate you out like a starved man. After he gave you another two orgasms, one of which he heard you screaming his name off the shower walls. He eventually found himself lying next to you, cuddling you in the bed. You were exhausted from all of your extracurricular activities the past two days, and were curled up and ready for a nap. After catching your breath, Joel slowly whispered in your ear, “who's old now darlin’?”

Before you could answer, Joel made his way down back your body and gave you one more Earth shattering orgasm. He wanted to prove a point. That he, in fact, wasn't too damn old.

End Story

444 notes · View notes

chaedomi · 8 months

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JEWEL OF OBELIA

SUMMARY . to them you were a jewel, precious and highly valuable. they, in turn, will express their strong emotions toward you, even if it means resorting to... more hostile methods.

CHARACTERS . ATHANASIA / CLAUDE DE ALGER OBELIA

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, suicide, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.7k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . why have all the readers in my manhwa fics originally died so far... anyway, can you tell where i started losing motivation?

IN THE novel, Lovely Princess, the story went like this. True to its title, the book contained Lovely Princesses. There was The First Princess, akin to the moon, who held a gloomy and foggy disposition. Then came The Second Princess, resembling the sun, bright and cheery. And finally, The Third Princess, similar to the stars, was reserved but gentle and a source of comfort.

You were… The First Princess’s younger half-sister. Although your mother was unknown (you were found inside a basket in the gardens crying) those jeweled eyes and your uncanny appearance close to The Emperor were solid proof that you were in fact of royal blood. It was… certainly strange to learn that the book entailed you as an 'unimportant' character. While The Second Princess was adored by the whole continent, the love the people harbored for you, The Third Princess, could put The Second Princess to shame. They treated you as though you were some supreme gift bestowed from the heavens, to be treasured and pampered. And among those who glorified you… was your father, The Cold-Hearted Emperor. You were like The Protagonist more than The Second Princess could ever be.

You were also… the best sister anyone could ask for to The First Princess. Because The First Princess was deprived of affection in her life, she mostly relied on you to fill the gaps in her heart. And you endearingly did so, trying your best to shine a light inside her darkness. It soon became that you both were inseparable, attached by the hip.

…So, obviously, you will spiral down into despair over The First Princess's death. You knew The First Princess was innocent of The Second Princess's poisoning. She was simply too sweet to commit a vile act, especially when she too took a liking to The Second Princess. But, alas, your reasoning went through one ear and out the other, and without proper evidence, your father executed The First Princess.

However, just as The Emperor's wrath was not to be underestimated, so was the extent of your grief as you promptly took away your life hours after The First Princess's execution. And that was the sad ending of your story, The Third Princess.

HOW WAS THAT ANY FAIR??? The confusion of the roles and the cheesy plotline were already bad enough on their own, but your unnecessary death pretty much destroyed the chances of her leaving a positive review. Was it done to reestablish the fact you were an unimportant character, or to remind everyone that The Second Princess is the original best girl in the story…? No amount of copious explanations can ever make ATHANASIA understand the validation for your death.

What she can come to understand however is that you, out of all people, did NOT deserve to die. You had all the rights to receive a happy ending just like The Second Princess… and that is what she aspired to make a reality as she was tossed into the fantasy world of the novel. It was obvious that it all went to hell when The First Princess was executed at the hands of The Emperor. So, in order to avoid your death, she will have to avoid hers first.

A genius plan, she dubbed it, stealing various riches from the Ruby Palace to live the rest of her life on as she escapes. She also thought of the brilliant idea of taking you along with her, after all, being inside the palace is kind of… the reason for your death, was it not!? Why not avoid the source altogether!? Or… that is what was supposed to happen before she accidentally stumbled across The Emperor four years early. Now, she will have to scrap that genius plan. Damn…

On a bright note, as time passed, using an alternative plan, Athanasia eventually evaded all chances of earning death at the hands of her father. This means that you too won’t have a pitiful ending as you originally did! Yay!

You truly didn’t deserve to die, and Athanasia will keep on saying it as much as needed. The years she spent beside you as your sister, further strengthened her motivation to keep you alive. She also understood why The First Princess had a strong attachment toward you. Innocent, Pure, Patient, Merciful, and Kind… who wouldn’t swoon over a person with such admirable traits? What struck her heart the way it did, was your affection. In her previous life, Athanasia… didn’t have people around her to provide her with love.

So, it surprised her a lot when it happened. Sure, she had love from her Nanny and the rest of the maids, but yours had her heart pumping, energy rushing through her veins. It was warm… a feeling she wanted to cling to for an eternity. Was it silly that she felt envious of a fictional character? To think that The First Princess was subjected to this kind of treatment from you… How did it feel to live her dream? Not that it matters anymore. Now, she can have you to all herself! You wouldn’t mind if she got a little… greedy, right? Of course, you won’t! After all, if you learned of her tremendous effort to keep you safe, why wouldn’t you reward her with more of your presence? What she does is in your favor. So, don’t get too upset if what she does seems a bit extreme, alright? It’s all for your benefit.

Betrayal can hurt. But, betrayal stings when it comes from the person you trusted and loved the most. You didn’t understand why it had upset her more than it upsetted you. More so, if she was so against the idea, why hadn’t she said so first? She was supportive about it too, choosing to help pick out a perfect disguise for your outing in the town. So why was it that on the day you were about to leave, lo and behold, there was your father by your doorway, inclusive of his knight… and your sister beside him, smiling triumphantly? Maybe if you had paid attention to how the shine left your sister’s eyes as you told her of your plan, you could have avoided such a dreadful punishment.

What bugged you the most was how Athanasia carried out her day normally, and acted sweetly to you, as if she didn’t partially contribute to the punishment of breaking your legs. Today was no different, as she sat on the chair beside your bed rambling on about her day. “You know, that’s the most I’ve seen Daddy upset.” She laughed, tracing her finger down your legs. “Usually, he would never dream of even hurting a strand of your hair. What you’ve done was really bad…”

She smiled at you, her jeweled eyes looking all the more terrifying under the dark lighting in your room. “I don’t understand. I should feel despaired seeing my sister in so much pain. Why does it bring me so much relief?” She sighed, holding one of your hands in hers. “...You scared me terribly with what you told me earlier. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the many possibilities that would arise with you out there. Even worse, what if they learned of your true identity, and an enemy nearby attacks you?”

“I agreed with your plan, solely to avoid trouble. If I said no, you would have avoided me, right? I… don’t ever want to see you in danger, or place you in it, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Not like anything like that will happen anytime soon!” She gently poked your injured legs. “I will help ensure that too.” You didn’t realize that the tears building in your eyes began to fall, your sister’s fingers quickly working to wipe them away.

In the novel, CLAUDE naturally favored you more than The First Princess. Upon your first encounter during the festival on The First Princess’s ninth birthday, with an outstretched hand, he escorted you back to the party, leaving your older sister in the dust. You lived a rather lavish life after that, him spoiling you with exquisite goods. So, it’s not like you had to form some extreme plan like Athanasia to protect yourself from the dangers that lurked inside the palace. Everyone here adored you…

Yet, not only did Athanasia’s interference with the plotline create many changes for her, but it also resulted in triggering unsettling events for you. Now that The Cold-Hearted Emperor has learned to display affection for the firstborn he originally detested, where would that place you, the daughter he always loved?

…His methods were very much frightening, even traumatizing, you may add. The numerous times you witnessed something gruesome to the eye, for the littlest offenses toward you. He would imprison, he would murder, he would execute, all in your name. His presence too, was very much suffocating, more than Athanasia, and that spoke volumes.

You hated how they both attached themselves to you, but, if you had to choose, you would pick Athanasia in a heartbeat. For the cold jeweled eyes that scrutinized every movement you made were too much for your poor heart to endure. It was as though he was waiting, waiting for your slip-up, to gain a perfect reason to permanently confine you behind the walls of your bedroom. And you fear… that the day you kissed your freedom goodbye was approaching quicker than you initially anticipated.

“What will it take for you to treat me as normally as the rest?” the (h.c) haired girl wept, clutching on tightly her father’s robes. “Shall I become like my sister, Athanasia? If I do… will I become like a free bird, and be granted more privileges?” grief-stricken jeweled eyes peered up at her father. “Will you finally release me from the shackles you trapped me in?”

“Do what you want,” her father smirked. but, as quickly as her hope came so was it shattered. the piercing concept. his voice in her ears was the cruelest of them all. “Such a thing won’t happen till the day I perish.” what a terrible vow. she knew he would do anything in his power to maintain his promise. and so, the deepest of despair like never before flooded her eyes. what have you done to receive this…?

you were very precious. nothing, not even the rarest pieces in the world could be compared to you; you were the highest value among them all. for all, it was a high requirement to treat you with the utmost importance and respect. yes, to them, to everyone, you were, the jewel of obelia.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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eve-dawntower · 3 months

Text

Treasure (Rafayel x MC)

Rafayel used to have all your attention, but now a rival has arrived. Who would have thought that the most formidable rival he'll ever get is his own flesh and blood?

Warning: None

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Tags: Fluff

Rafayel was truly happy when he found out he was going to be a father. I mean, a child is a combination of a small bit of him and a small bit of you, right? He was genuinely ready to become a father despite whatever nonsense Thomas was spouting. But what he wasn't ready for was you focusing all your attention on the half-merman toddler the two of you had created.

Rafayel glared at the small being splashing in the swimming pool in the middle of the baby room. The water in the pool was actually seawater and at the same temperature as the deep waters. Normally, Lemurian children could withstand the temperature above the sea, but babies and toddlers can't. It was all thanks to the protocore technology that they were able to create a baby room appropriate for a half-Lemurian and half-human brat. Brat. That's right. That's what he called his own spawn.

The toddler giggled as you tickled him, making Rafayel pout more. Why was he getting all your attention? The first few months after the baby was born were fine, but he's already eight months old! Isn't it about time for you to turn all your attention back to him, the father?

"At what age will he be able to learn to change his tails to legs?" you asked, not taking your eyes off your son. See? You can't even spare him a small glance, even though you're asking him questions!

"Around three or four. I still need to teach him how. But it's still up to him if he'll be able to master it or not. Not every Lemurian is capable of doing it. Only the talented ones," he replied sullenly.

Noticing that familiar tone, you turned to look at him, and for the first time, you realized he was pouting.

"What's the matter?" you asked him.

"Nothing," he turned away and stomped out of the room.

You look back to your son who was playing around the pool, oblivious to his father's mood.

Days turned into weeks, and Rafayel's frustration lingered. His days were now filled with a mix of responsibilities and longing for the attention he once had. The house echoed with the occasional splash from the baby room, where your son continued to explore his aquatic abilities under your devoted guidance.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found Rafayel brooding in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow revealed the depth of his emotions, and you couldn't ignore the strain on the relationship.

"Rafayel, we need to talk," you said, settling beside him. He sighed, reluctantly turning to face you.

"It's just... I feel like I've become a background character in my own story. Our story," he confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

You took his hand, reassuringly squeezing it. "I understand it's been an adjustment, but our son needs our attention. We can find a balance."

He nodded, but the ache in his eyes lingered. The following days, you made a conscious effort to involve Rafayel in the daily routines with your son, trying to bridge the emotional gap that had grown.

However, the problem with Rafayel was that he's very stubborn, and no matter how hard he tried, it was difficult for him not to be salty about how much attention his son was getting from you.

One day, you were suddenly called into a mission. Normally, Thomas takes care of your son when you're away, but Thomas is away for now, and calling a babysitter is obviously not an option. After all, you can't let anyone know about your half-Lemurian child. Left with no choice, you have to leave the child in Rafayel's care.

"Rafayel, please take very good care of him," you said, looking at him with a comically desperate expression.

Rafayel gave you a very offended look. "What do you think of me?! Incapable of taking care of my own child?!"

The conversation you had regarding what he was feeling about your child having all your attention lingers in your mind, but you decide to shake it off. Rafayel dislikes cats, but he took good care of one for you back then. What more if it's his flesh and blood? Despite what he was feeling, he wouldn't be irresponsible, right?

You nodded and planted a small kiss on the child's temple before leaving.

Rafayel stared at the doorway with an offended and exaggerated expression of shock.

"She didn't kiss me goodbye!"

The toddler giggled, making Rafayel turn to glare at him.

As Rafayel continued to glare at the toddler, the little mischief-maker seized the opportunity and splashed a handful of water in Rafayel's direction, prompting an unexpected reaction.

Rafayel dramatically recoiled, clutching his heart with mock horror. "Assaulted by a baby! This is outrageous!"

The toddler found this uproarious and burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the water-based escapade. Rafayel, however, continued his theatrics, staggering around the room as if gravely wounded.

"You've wounded me, my aquatic progeny! I'm a victim of watery aggression!" Rafayel declared, sinking to his knees in a theatrical display of defeat.

Your son, finding this turn of events entertaining, crawled over to Rafayel and patted him on the head. Rafayel seized the opportunity to cradle the toddler in his arms, feigning weakness.

"Ah, the betrayer himself consoles the wounded party. What a world!" Rafayel exclaimed dramatically, earning more giggles from the toddler.

The baby room transformed into a stage for this impromptu comedy, with Rafayel playing the role of the aggrieved victim. Despite the initial frustration, the absurdity of the situation broke the tension, and laughter echoed through the house.

Rafayel sighed after a few moments. "I wonder if your mommy still loves me. It's unfair! I'm the first! Why does it seem that she loves you more?" He whined as he poked the baby's nose, making him laugh. "Yeah, keep laughing at me. Pour more salt on your father's wound." He sighed. "I don't really hate you or anything. I mean, how can I? You're my son. Your mommy's and mine's son. But it really makes me sad how I ended up being shoved aside when you arrive in our life."

Just then, the child dragged himself off his father and slowly pulled himself towards the drawer. Rafayel watched him and mentally compare him to a seal.

The baby then looked at Rafayel, then back to the drawer, babbling.

"What is it?" Rafayel approached his son questioningly.

The child babbled as if trying to communicate with him.

Rafayel sighed. "I really don't have any idea what you're trying to say."

Pouting with a pout that resembles his, the child tried to reach and pulled lower the drawer handle.

"Hey, don't!"

Rafayel grabbed him away from it, making the child look at him in displeasure.

Rafayel groaned. "I guess Thomas is right. You really do look like a spitting image of me, especially when you're unhappy. Fine. You want to open this?"

Rafayel pulled the bottom drawer open, where he saw a book. He took it out and inspected it.

"What's this?" he muttered as he sat on the couch with the baby on his lap. He flipped the first page and realized it's like a diary. Only, it was a diary of your pregnancy.

When you were pregnant, you decided to write all your thoughts in it and how you felt at that time. Rafayel was unaware of it.

He started to read what you wrote.

"Rafayel is always childish and insufferable. He always annoys me, and sometimes I really want to choke him..."

"What the heck?! Is this all about her complaints about me?!"

The baby chuckled as if understanding what his father was saying.

Rafayel glanced at him. "Your mother... Seriously..." He shook his head and flipped to the next page, reading the contents.

More complaints about him were written. The farther he got, the harsher her words became. By the time he was halfway, he was more than ready to burn the diary. But then...

"Rafayel might not be the most mature guy out there, but he is really trying. Despite my mood swings and weird cravings, he was there, never leaving my side. Even if he always ends up receiving my anger, he never retaliated. Well, after I cried when he talked back once, he stop with his sassy remarks. I guess my cries traumatized him. Haha. If you gave me a chance to exchange him with someone else, I'll never do it. Because he's the only man I ever loved and will always love. He is also the one who gave me my treasure. My child."

As Rafayel read the diary, the realization dawned on him that, during your pregnancy, you had poured your heart onto those pages. The entries spoke volumes about the emotional journey you went through, and he found himself becoming a central figure in the narrative.

In the heartfelt words, you described how Rafayel was your pillar of support, always there to ease your fears and celebrate every milestone. The diary chronicled his late-night runs to satisfy your sudden cravings, the countless moments of reassurance, and the joy he brought into the preparations for the baby's arrival.

As Rafayel continued reading, a mix of emotions played on his face—astonishment, gratitude, and a touch of humility. It was a revelation that he had been a vital part of your pregnancy, more than he had realized.

He glanced at the baby in his lap, who seemed fascinated by the unfolding drama. Rafayel couldn't help but smile, a newfound warmth settling in his heart.

"I had no idea," he murmured, a genuine appreciation for the role he played during those months.

The entries continued to paint a picture of a loving partnership, with Rafayel actively participating in creating a nurturing environment for the upcoming addition to the family. He discovered how, despite his initial grumblings, he had been a source of strength for you.

Closing the diary, Rafayel looked at his son with a newfound understanding. The baby, sensing his father's softened demeanor, reached out and touched Rafayel's cheek, as if acknowledging the unspoken connection.

He hugged the baby. "If she consider you a treasure that I gave her, it makes sense how much she cares about you." He kissed his son's temple. "I also care about you but I guess I just felt so left out, I started seeing you as a rival. I promise it will never happen again."

With the diary in his hands, Rafayel felt a newfound appreciation for the bond he shared with you and the significance of his role in your life. As he embraced his son, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, dissolving the remnants of frustration that had lingered.

In that moment, the past frustrations and perceived rivalries faded away. The baby room became a sanctuary of reflection and realization. Rafayel embraced the depth of his role, not just as a father in the present but as a constant support throughout the journey of bringing their child into the world.

_____

After the particularly challenging mission, you returned home, exhausted yet relieved to be back. Opening the door, you realized it was too quiet.

"Rafayel?" You called out, worried about your husband and child.

You receive no reply and so, you went to the baby room.

Just then, you were greeted by a scene that melted away any residual weariness.

In the dim light of the baby room, you saw Rafayel peacefully sleeping on the pool, the baby nestled on his chest, both in a serene slumber. The sight was heartwarming – a testament to the newfound understanding and unity that had blossomed in your absence.

You couldn't help but smile at the peaceful tableau. Gently, you approached the sleeping duo and planted a soft kiss on Rafayel's kiss. He stirred, slowly waking up with a dazed expression.

"Welcome back," he whispered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You nodded, savoring the tranquility of the moment. "What happened while I was away?"

Rafayel grinned, gesturing to the peacefully sleeping baby on his chest. "Well, we had a little water-based escapade, a dramatic showdown, and a realization that we're all in this together. Oh, and I read your pregnancy diary. Turns out, I played a more significant role than I thought."

"What?! Where do you find it?!" Your cheek reddened in embarrassment. You almost forgot about that diary.

"Well, a little fishy showed it to me," Rafayel gently shifted, allowing you to join them on the poolside. You gave him a look, annoyed that you wanted to get in the pool and have your hunter outfit get wet.

Sighing, you got in the pool.

"It's my real feelings, by the way," you said, referring to the diary's content.

"Yeah. Sorry for being so childish. I guess I just got used to having all your attention. I mean, I'm used to having everyone's attention. As a child, everyone fawned on me, and even when I became an adult, being the artist that I am, everyone looks up to me. So now, having another being get the attention of the person that I love the most made me anxious. I promise I'll never try to compete with my own son for attention."

"I also want to apologize, Rafayel. I guess I really did neglect you." You kissed his lips, as if apologizing for the times he felt neglected.

"It's fine. But promise me, once our child is old enough, I'll be the number one again."

You chuckled at that and snuggled to him.

"I promise."

"And I'm sorry for being a bit of a drama king," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, "Well, I wouldn't have it any other way. Our story may be a bit dramatic, but it's uniquely ours."

The three of you shared a moment of quiet happiness, basking in the love that bound your unconventional family.

With your son sleeping peacefully between you, the challenges of the past were replaced by a sense of unity and understanding. As you leaned in to share a tender moment with Rafayel, you knew that every twist and turn in your story had led to this beautiful chapter of shared laughter, love, and the promise of a bright future together.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey that had brought you to this moment.

END

MASTERLIST

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #rafayel x reader

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talaok · 6 months

Note

hi bestie, I've been thinking about your incredible writing and I thought of something, if it's okay for you, it would be an interesting fic, thank you very much for the dedication and love you put into your works, they are perfect.

We always see fic scenarios out there where Pedro is insecure about the age difference, exposure and privacy, but what about a totally different scenario where Pedro tries to convince the reader that none of that really matters because they are in love? and that they will be able to get through this? (In this case, I don't think the reader would have a problem with the age gap, but she would like to have a "normal" relationship and not one where they can't hold hands, kiss or be seen together because of the paparazzi...

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: thank you soso much love💖, and im sorry if this isn't exactly what you had pictured

it's stupid how you got here.

How you ended up sobbing on the couch as your boyfriend tried to understand what was going on.

It was just a stupid couple, a stupid couple kissing on the subway... in public.

And all you could think about as you came home was how unfair it was, that you and Pedro couldn't do that, that you had to hide your relationship in the confines of your apartment, that you couldn't kiss, hold hands, or hug him in the street like you longed for.

it made you think, but it also did something else, it made you realize.

It made you realize just how tired you were, just how exhausting having to pretend like you didn't love someone more than life was, and to have to watch that person, the man who's the object of said love, pretend the same thing.

It was exhausting, and you were exhausted, and as much as you loved him, you'd started to realize that maybe you couldn't, that maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

"sweetheart..." he murmured, softly caressing your right arm, as you hid your face in your own hands "What are you saying?"

You'd only half explained yourself before the tears started, so he hadn't understood completely, he had gotten a part- and he didn't like what he got, it was destroying him actually, but he still had hope... maybe he had simply misinterpreted it all.

"I-I'm saying" you sniffled, peeking up at him, "I'm saying that I don't know if I can do this anymore"

"What?" he breathed, his heart breaking into a million pieces with a simple sentence "Y-you can't do what?" he asked

Hope, hope, he needed to have hope.

This couldn't be it.

No, not like this, not now- fuck, not ever.

"this- us" you explained, tears falling from your eyes without a break "The hiding, the secrecy, not being able to kiss you whenever I want to, I-"

No.

He couldn't give up

"then let's tell everyone!" he begged, taking your hands in his, ignoring the void in his stomach, the sickness in his throat "we-we can do that, we could just-"

"you know I can't" you stopped him "My career is still at the beginning, if this got out it would destroy my image, they'd start saying that I'm with you for the fame and then no one would hire me anymore"

"but you're not" he murmured "You're not like that"

"I know" you shrugged "but how would they?"

"I-I'll tell them" He spoke, trying to sound more confident than he felt "I'll tell everyone how much I love you, how important you are for me, how amazing you are, I'll-"

it was your turn to beg now

"stop" a sob crept up your throat "stop, I just- I can't"

"Sugar, please" he whispered "I love you" he promised " I love you so fucking much, and I can't lose you- not like this, I just can't"

Your eyes were focused on where your hands were intertwining, not able to meet his gaze.

Guilt was eating at you from within, filling up your lungs with smoke until you couldn't breathe.

"I know you do" you spoke, your voice a faint thread "And I love you too, but that's not what this is about, it's about how exhausting this is- I mean, don't you feel it too, aren't you tired too?"

Your eyes were melting with his now

"yeah I am" he nodded "but if it's what I need to do to be with you, then I gladly do it. I'd do anything for you sweetheart- I'd jump off a bridge if you asked me to"

A soft, silly smile pulled unconsciously at your lips.

And he saw it as a victory, a small one, but still something, a crack he'd created.

"Please sugar" he squeezed your hands "Please don't do this, I'm begging you."

"I love you. I love you more than anything, more than myself, more than life itself, so please, for the love of god, don't do this"

"Baby I-"

"Please-" his eyes were shimmering "we'll get through this, we'll find a way"

"what way?"

"I-I don't know yet" he admitted, his voice lower "but what I do know it's that I can't lose you, not over something like this, and that I'm gonna work my ass off to find a solution"

"yeah?" a snort bubbled from your nose

"yeah" he smiled, leaning closer so his hot breath was fanning over your mouth "So what do you say," he asked, "you trust me?"

And at that, you couldn't help but smile

"I do," you said "I trust you"

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reevesdriver · 5 months

Text

Mr. Dutton (NSFW)

Summary: You're recently single and living in hotels so when you get talking to your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, she invites you to stay at the Dutton ranch where you suddenly become close to the man you crushed on as you grew up, John Dutton.

Word count: 2535

Reader: Female reader

Character(s): John Dutton

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Age-Gap (Reader is of legal age) / Best Friends Dad / Save a horse you know the rest / Oral Sex (M & F Receiving) / Dickhead Ex-boyfriend / John is a strong man I just know it /

Support Me: Kofi

Part 2

(AN: This man, well, this series has me in a chokehold at the minute and there's a serious lack of Yellowstone fics so here you go have some daddy Dutton🥵.)

Splitting from your useless excuse of an ex was proving to be the best thing you ever did. Even if you didn't have a place to stay and a boot full of your belongings your happiness was improving already. Your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, had invited you out for dinner and when she heard of your current hotel-staying situation she invited you back to her family ranch to stay.

You declined at first, not wanting to be in the way, but when she asked you for a ride back to the ranch and made you come inside for another drink you conveniently got talking to her father about the situation and when John Dutton said you could stay who were you to refuse?

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr Dutton."

“You can call me John, darlin’. We’ve known each other long enough to keep up the formalities.”

“Told you he wouldn’t mind.” Beth smiled as she looked up from her food. Gator had prepared a meal for the three of you since Jamie was working and Kayce and his family wanted to spend some time to themselves so John let you take his youngest sons seat next to him.

“It should only be for a few weeks. Until I can sort out a place of my own, if there’s anything that needs doing please let me know. I don’t wanna be wandering around doing nothing whilst everyone else is working.”

“We could probably use some help keeping the place tidy but I’ll see if Rip needs any help too.”

“Thanks Beth.”

Later in the day Beth showed you to your room and after John insisted on helping you bring the boxes of your belongings up you got settled for the night. The room that had been given to you was large, definitely the largest room you'd ever stayed in, and as you hung your clothes up in the double-wardrobe you peered out of the window and across the ranch taking in the sights.

It had been a few years or so since you'd had the chance to come back to the Dutton ranch. Between working and dealing with your ex it became almost impossible to have any time to yourself let alone with your friends. Fortunately you remained in touch with Beth and despite you not being able to meet up like you used to you were thankful that she was understanding.

You sighed. You hadn't thought about your ex since walking out of the relationship after you found out he was cheating and you were annoyed that after a few weeks he decided to plague your mind now when you were trying to start fresh. As if on queue your phone pinged with a text from said ex and you felt the tears start to well up in your eyes as you saw the brief begging message he'd said. A gentle knock on the open bedroom door brought your attention away from your phone screen.

"You alright?" Johns soft voice filled the room as he stood cautiously in the doorway.

You sniffled a little bit and wiped the corners of your eyes before nodding. "Yeah I will be." You turn to face him. "Thank you for letting me stay John, it really means a lot to me."

"You don't need to thank me darlin', you're welcome here anytime. I'm headin' to bed but if you need anything then come and wake me alright?" He says and you nod in understanding. "Make sure you get some rest."

John turned and left the doorway, closing the door behind him he left you in peace as you continued to put your clothes away. When you finished you picked up your phone, blocked your ex and climbed under the sheets after turning the light off.

The following morning the Duttons woke before you did and made their way downstairs. Beth made herself a drink and then sat at the dining table immediately digging in to the food that Gator had put out for them. Soon after, her father followed and took his seat at the head of the table with his own drink.

“Is she still asleep?” John asks, referring to you and Beth nods. “I was thinking of getting her set up in the stables, she was always good with grooming the horses so figured that’s a good place to start.”

Beth agreed and soon they fell into silence, silence that was soon interrupted by Beths phone pinging. When she checked it a smile crossed her face and soon she was standing up and excusing herself for the rest of the morning. Shortly after Beth had left you'd woke and quickly got dressed after checking the time. It was still early morning but you didn't want to start sleeping in especially since you offered to help around the ranch.

Exiting the bedroom you made your way through the house and eventually to the dining room where you saw John sat at the table on his own. "I was wondering when you would be making an appearance." He greeted you with a smile. Gator was bringing more plates of food to the table, toast, bacon, eggs etc and you felt like you were in heaven.

"That was probably the best night sleep I've had in a while." You smiled and took the seat that you had sat in the night before. "I hope I didn't get up too late."

John laughed. "Darlin' you're up earlier than I thought you would be anyway so it's fine."

"You got any jobs for me today?"

"Actually yes, i want you to groom the horses if you're up to it, they haven't been bathed in a while and even though the men in the bunkhouse are capable they never get them looking like you did."

You happily agree and think back to all the times you spent with Johns horses, brushing their mains and fur, bathing them and just overall paying as much attention to them as possible. John always watched you from a distance since he had other things to be taking care of but when you stopped coming around he started to notice that the horses looked dirtier and never seemed to be as clean as they used to be.

Finishing off your breakfast you started the day with choosing a horse and hosing them down before washing and drying them. You brushed their fur, main and platted their tail before mucking out their stable and then moving on to the next one. By the end of the week you'd cleaned up a handful of the horses and had been introduced to the new workers like Jimmy and reacquainted with the old ones like Lloyd and Rip who you'd come to miss. You helped out where you could but when Friday night hit you were glad to have been told to rest over the weekend by John.

Your old cowboy boots had rubbed your feet raw as it had been so long since you'd last worn them. When you entered the house you kicked off your boots and carried them upstairs to your room sitting on the edge of the bed you removed your socks and frowned at the redness of your feet. As the sun set you undressed and showered before returning to the bedroom and climbing into bed. Not a minute or so after your head hit the pillow your phone pinged.

Sitting up you were curious as to who could be texting you, that was until you saw the 13 missed calls and around 50 texts from an unknown number. Your stomach dropped, it was your ex and the messages ranged from "I miss you" to "Go fuck yourself" as well as. few others thrown in here and there for good measure. You skimmed the messages quickly when another one came through "I can see that you've read my messages, fucking reply to me." and with that you blocked the number and turned off your phone.

All the work you'd done over the past few days didn't seem to have affected you anymore since you'd gone from being on the verge of falling asleep to wide awake in a matter of minutes. You tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep but after 2 hours had passed you gave up.

Leaving the bedroom you stepped into the surprisingly warm hallway and made your way to the staircase. Peering over the bannister you saw John who looked comfortable for once, normally any time you'd seen him he was tense but now, sat in front of the lit fire with a tumbler of Whiskey on the side table and his feet up on the coffee table he looked relaxed. “What’re you doing up?” You ask after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies looking up from his book as you descended the staircase.

“Can’t sleep, mind if I grab a book and join you?”

“Help yourself.” He replies and you smile. John watches from his position on the couch as you turn and head towards the bookcases. He watches you skim the leather bound books for a title that piqued your interest. Reaching up for a familiar title and raising up onto your tip-toes makes your oversized t-shirt rise up your thighs and stop just under your ass. John struggles not to choke on his drink as he drags his eyes up your thighs and catches a glimpse of your laced underwear peaking from underneath the baggy t-shirt.

After grabbing a book you quietly made yourself a drink from the bar and took a seat on the couch next to John as he topped up his glass with the opened bottle of Whiskey next to him. “Whatcha reading?” He asks with genuine curiosity. You flashed him the cover of the book and he recognised the title. “Good choice.” He smiles and you smile back.

Sitting down on the couch next to him you made sure to leave some room between the both of you. Your legs were bent at the knee and tucked up next to you and it didn’t take long until you started rubbing at the sore areas of your feet. The action didn’t go unnoticed and soon John broke the silence. “Your feet hurting you?”

“Yeah, been a while since I’ve worn my boots. Think they need breaking in again or I need a new pair.” You laugh.

“Here, let me.” He says extending his hand out to you and you knew better than to argue with him. Lifting your feet you drop them into his lap gently, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of your legs. Suddenly it took you much longer to finish a page as your mind kept wandering to Johns calloused hand rubbing your feet as he continued to read his book, stopping occasionally to take a sip of his drink.

His lap was warm, his jeans felt nice and rough and as his hand traced the bottom of your foot up to your ankle you felt the growing rigid length of his cock press against the side of your foot. Your eyes were no longer focused on the book and instead you peered over the pages to look at your best friends dad as you gently tilted your foot towards his crotch. Johns breath caught in his throat, his rough hand grabbed your ankle and he looked over to you. "Be careful darlin', I don't want you doing something you'll regret." He spoke before moving your feet off of his lap so he could stand up.

You watched as John grabbed the now empty bottle of Whiskey and passed round the back of the couch, leaving the room and entering the kitchen. Thoughts raced around your head and after deciding on what to do you opted to go with the idea that would hopefully release the pulsing between your legs. Standing from the couch you shimmied your lacy underwear down your hips and let them drop to your feet before picking them up and walking over to the book that John was reading.

You dropped the flimsy fabric on-top of the closed book, grabbed your glass and walked past John to the kitchen as he made his way back to the couch. You poured another drink and barely had time to take a sip when heavy footsteps stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “You forget something sweetheart?” John says and you smirk. Turning to face him you see your underwear gripped in one of his calloused hands.

“I didn’t forget anything sir.” You reply. He lets out a hoarse laugh and closes the distance between the pair of you. Your back is pressed against the counter and John is pressed up against your front peering down at you with a smirk.

"You're a little tease aren't you."

"Only for you." You reply and he laughs again.

"Beth'll kill you if she finds out, hell I think she'd kill the both of us."

"We best hurry up then whilst we have an empty house."

Lifting you up onto the counter John parts your legs and kisses the inside of your thighs before devouring your cunt. One of your hands found the back of his head and you ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to lap and suck at your clit, his rough hands that were delicately rubbing your feet moments ago now roughy grabbing at your thighs to keep you steady.

Your thighs threatened to trap his face as he made you cum with his tongue and soon you were jumping down off the counter and dragging John back to the couch. Shoving him down you dropped to your knees with a crack and made quick work at unbuttoning his jeans freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. You licked the tip before drawing it into your mouth and using your spit to soak his shaft.

His hand is resting on the back of your head as it bobbed whilst you sucked his cock. You always assumed that since John was a tall man he would have the cock to match and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was true. When your jaw started hurting from shoving his girth between your lips you stood and straddled his thighs wasting no time in lowering yourself down on his cock.

John lifted up your t-shirt and took a nipple into his mouth roughly sucking it as you bounced on his lap, his hands moved to grip your hips as your cunt swallowed his thick cock with every rise and fall of your body. Cumming on his cock John wasn't far behind you, his laboured breathing urged you to push through the burning sensation in your thighs to bring him to his high. Pushing you roughly against his thighs John held you in place as he came, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Looks like you still have it in you old man." You laugh trying to catch your breath.

"I'll show you more of what an old man can do."

#mine #mywriting #yellowstone #Yellowstone imagine #John dutton #John Dutton x reader #John Dutton x female reader #female reader #kevin costner #daddy dutton #John Dutton imagine #yellowstone x reader #yellowstone fanfic #Kevin Costner smut

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sttoru · 16 days

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER II: you smuggle the wounded man into your dorm room and nurse him back to health in secret. a fragile bond forms between you and the stranger - whose name you learn is toji - as you spend your first night together.

word count. 6.6k-ish

tags. assassin!toji fushiguro x college student!female reader. sfw. bits of angst. mentions of blood, knives, murder. reader gets called 'woman'. general warnings: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's). chapter one here

Three. Two. One.

You accept your miserable fate with a gulp. You prepare yourself for the unbearable pain that awaits your body until the last breath leaves your lungs. You hope the anguish lasts for a second or two before your vision turns pitch black. Before your soul meets its maker. Or before it gets lost somewhere more peaceful than this life you've led.

Closing your eyes, waiting for the impact, and uttering your final words in your head felt like eternity. Maybe the man is playing with your emotions before he decides to make an end to your life. Perhaps he is such a nasty psycho. And you can’t believe that out of all people who could’ve met him tonight on the street, you did.

You sniff. Life is unfair. Even at your final moments, you couldn’t help but feel you got the short end of the stick. You wait and wait, but your death doesn’t arrive. You sigh and ask whoever can hear your thoughts to make it quick.

“Shit,” Your ‘murderer’ coughs. It sounds like a painful cough, one that came out the back of his throat. You hear metal clattering on wet concrete not a second later. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise, your vision instantly filling with a frightening sight. You watch as the injured man starts to cough up blood. He’s unable to lift a finger in that state of his.

This is your chance to make a run for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you to move and get yourself to safety. It’s a perfect opportunity to get help. But something inside of you is urging you to stay.

Any normal person would have escaped by now.

‘I must be out of my mind,’ you silently think. You don’t loosen the grip you have on your scarf, the one pressed against the man’s open wound. Your body is yelling at you—begging you to move away—yet your heart is pleading to stay put. There is no way your body wins over the strong will of your heart. Your soul, that’s strangely connected to his, a man that threatened to kill you without hesitation.

You surely have lost your mind.

“Sir, oh my god,” you panic. You chose to stay, however have no clue what to do. You’re trying your best to think of a solution to all of this. Your eyes catch a glimpse of your now wet phone laying in a puddle of rain. You hope it still works. Well, even if it does, you surely can’t call an ambulance for the man. He had stated that he didn’t want any help.

If you consider the possibility of him being a murderer, you’d understand that he wouldn’t want an ambulance to be involved. You shake your head as your body desperately tries to continue fighting against your heart’s desires. ‘Sympathizing with a possible murderer. God I really must have gone insane,’ you curse yourself out in your head.

The sound of heavy breathing brings you back into the current moment. You catch the way the bloodied man is trying to regain his strength. You try to coax him into staying still, “sir, please don’t move. It could worsen your injury.”

You voicing your worries only causes the man to try and push you away. Despite his weakened state, the little push he gives you is enough to make you lose the grip on your crimson stained scarf. You watch in pure horror as more blood pours down his black shirt, onto his white pants.

“No, please. Please listen to me,” you don’t know why you’re begging a grown man, a killer, to listen to you for his own sake. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in your dorm room, in your cozy bed, watching a series while it pours outside. You shouldn’t be playing the hero to a stranger.

You think quickly. The only option you have aside from an ambulance, is to try and help him out to your best ability. You don’t have anything with you that could help, but you do have some rubbing alcohol in your dorm. That could work as a disinfectant. Stitching his wound up is the real challenge.

“Okay, uhm,” you try to think of a way to do this as smoothly as possible. You quickly grab the knife from the ground and shiver at the sight of the blood on the handle. Time is ticking and it won’t be long until the man in front of you loses his consciousness and possibly… dies.

You take off your coat, making haste to do so. Your hands are trembling, and your heart is stammering. You hiss as you tear apart the material of your coat using the sharp knife. The leather should help slow down the bleeding. Even if it’s only for a little bit. That’s all you really need.

“Here,” you quickly replace the scarf with the cut piece of your coat. You wrap it around his waist and fasten it, making sure it doesn’t slip off. The man does not say a word nor does he fight you off. All the resistance is gone from his weary body. That should tell you enough; he’s barely holding on. His heavy yet faint breathing is the only sign that reassures you that he’s not fallen unconscious.

You collect your bag and all the other things scattered on the dirty ground of the alleyway. You don’t want to leave any evidence of you being here, helping an alleged killer with getting away. Your heart tells you it’s fine, but your body is telling you that you’ll regret all of it. Time will tell which is the truth.

You stand up. Barely. Your knees are nearly giving out on you because of the stress and anxiety, though the adrenaline pumping through your blood is helping you stay composed. Your eyes follow the flow of the man’s blood as it mixes with the rainwater on the concrete. You can’t clean that up. The only thing you can do about it is pray—pray that the rain will wash all of it away. Down the drains.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, checking in on the stranger. He doesn’t answer. You crouch down in front of him, a worried expression on your face as you carefully move the hair from his eyes. They’re closed. You freak out and your initial reaction is to gently tap his cheek for any sign of life, “sir? Sir? Don’t tell me he’s—"

“Shut up,” his gruff voice echoes in your ears. It seems like he still wants you gone, though is not trying to actively shoo you away anymore. Not like he can in the awful state he is in.

The stranger coughs again, his eyelids opening just halfway before closing again. You sigh in relief and move next to him. You lift his arm so that it loosely sits on your shoulders. You grunt softly—the muscles in them makes it a tough job. You try asking him for his compliance, “I’ll help you stand up, okay?”

As expected, you’re met with silence. You take it as an agreement and use all the strength left in your limbs to get up on your feet. It’s a struggle, with you nearly toppling over thrice, but you eventually get the co-operation you’re looking for. The bloodied stranger slowly but surely manages to stand up straight with your aid.

You’re shocked by his large stature. He was intimidating enough when seated, but now that he’s towering over you, his aura is reaching high levels of unsettling. You hope he’s got enough drive left to move his feet. You can’t expect your frail arms to half carry a six-foot-something man.

“Hang in there,” you mutter, trying to cover the anxiety you’re internally facing. You look ahead and move forward in small strides, the steps you’re making are wobbly, as are his. You look up and try to gauge the man’s reactions, though his eyes are once again covered by his wet bangs. All you can make out is the slight twitch of his scarred lips. He’s in pain.

You manage to escape that damned back alley. Your bag is soaked, as are your clothes. You take one quick glance back before you turn the corner and once again pray that the rain washes the blood away. You take the quietest and fastest route back to your dorm.

A couple people pass you by. They don’t look at you funny nor do they bat an eye to the man you’re helping keep balance. They have their own lives that they need to take care of first. The pouring rain makes it harder for them to concentrate on anything else as well. Besides, the material of your coat wrapped around the man’s waist covers up most of the blood. It’s not visible to others.

If someone were to describe the image of the stranger and you from an outsider’s perspective, they’d think you’re just helping your drunk partner back home. It’s not an uncommon sight in the busy streets of Tokyo, especially in the evening.

“Where...” The stranger speaks up, his deep voice hoarser than before. He unexpectedly grips your shoulder. His meaty fingers digging into your flesh makes you wince. He’s only using a small bit of his actual strength and you’re already in pain. You push through and continue helping him forward. “Fuck,” He cusses. He’s starting to become deluded due to the blood loss and pain, “where ‘re—”

The tall man coughs, interrupting himself. You cringe at the sound of that excruciating sound. You could see the lights in the distance. The ones you’re used to seeing when coming back to campus after a night out with your friend. Now, you’re coming back with an unknown man. An alleged killer that you’re bringing into the building. You don’t even want to think about all the lives you could potentially put in danger.

You try to avert your attention. Now is not the time for that. Your gut feeling says so. You need to figure out a way to sneak this man inside your room without anyone finding out. Not the security guards, hall monitors or students: No one can know. You answer his question with clear doubt in your voice, not knowing if you’ll both even make it, “safety. To safety.”

All the thoughts about your poor life decisions get pushed to the side. You grunt and try to increase your speed, having difficulty dragging the man with you. You’re sweating. The amount of strength you need to put in to take only one step is severely draining. You remember that there is one path that doesn’t have much surveillance cameras hanging around. It’s the one you and a couple others use to sneak back into your dorms very late at night.

“Almost,” you try to encourage the stranger, who’s silent is quite eerie. You hope he’s holding on. The way he’s dragging his feet over the bricks tells you that he’s trying to keep conscious. You hurry up and get to the hidden exit at the back.

It’s locked on some days, so you let out a breath of relief when you manage to push it open. That spares you the trouble of having to go through the main entrance and risk getting caught. Plus, you don’t have to use and show your student card now that you’ve infiltrated the building. You hope that there aren’t many people around this side, praying that they’re all eating dinner somewhere.

The creaking of the door is ten times louder than it is usually. Or it could be the fear in your body restructuring your thoughts. Luckily, your dorm room is only one flight of stairs up. You can’t take the elevator because of the cameras in it. You look over at the man leaning against your shoulder, his head tilting to the side in exhaustion.

“Christ,” The stranger grunts. His head sways a little closer to yours unintentionally and your breath hitches. For a split second, he rests the side of his head against yours, too tired to move away. It makes your heart stammer for a moment. To have this coldhearted man lean on you, depend on you, and lay his life in your hands.

You’re filled with another rush of adrenaline. “Are you still holding up okay?” your quiet voice snaps the man out of his disoriented state. He only then realizes that he’s leaning his heavy weight on your small stature. He grumbles and tilts his head the other way again, away from yours. He clearly hates to be vulnerable. Especially around a random girl he does not have any business with.

Without getting an answer back, you carefully make haste to your dorm room. Your room is the first one in the entire row, located the surveillance camera's dead zone, which works out in your favor again.

You hold in your breath and try to fish the keys out of your pocket. Your fingers move the old and now wet receipts and garbage to the sides, pulling the desired object out from between them. You fumble with the keys, your fingers trembling as you try to grab the right one.

The intimidating stranger looks down at your hand through a blurry vision. You’re in a hurry to open the door and avoid being caught. Someone could turn the corner right now and you’d be busted. He huffs in annoyance, though voices no audible complaints. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows you’re helping him and that you have zero ill intent.

“Sorry,” you whimper before finally unlocking your door. You hurriedly get in an shut it behind you. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Figuratively in this case, since you still have a whole man leaning on you. You help him over to your bed and carefully assist him down.

You’re ignoring your own boundaries for the nth time. The ones you are so adamant to follow in any other situation. You would never let someone sit on your bed with their outside clothes still on, especially not if they’re dirtied and wet. You’re tolerating it for now. All for this man that you have a sudden, unfathomable attraction to.

You don’t have time to think. You rush to your wardrobe and pull the drawer open. You search for a first aid kit. You had it laying somewhere—though never used. Your parents had given you it in case of an emergency. Which is right now.

You find a whole bunch of gauze rolls and a bottle of antiseptic liquid along with bandages, scissors, and pain killers. You have zero clue on how to treat a wound. You only saw such stuff in action movies and cartoons. You grab a needle and thread that you had laying around. A towel and a tissue box as well. Just anything that’s redeemed relevant for the situation.

You drop everything on your bed and fiddle around on what to use first. You’re tempted to grab your phone and look up some instructions on the internet, but you quickly get interrupted by a bloody hand reaching out for the disinfectant. You watch with worry as the man gets to work—not expecting any help from an oblivious girl like you. He’s gone through this before.

“Get some water.” The man huffs, undoing the coat around his waist slowly. You only have a few seconds to act. You look around frantically and find an old water bottle on your nightstand. You hand it to him, and he nearly yanks it from your hand, still showing that stubborn reluctance around you. There’s not a thank you in sight as he gets to work.

You can tell that the stranger has stitched up his own wounds many times before. It makes you think back to your initial thoughts. The thoughts about his occupation. His skills would be self-explanatory if he were to be an actual murderer. Having to deal with these types of wounds would be an everyday experience.

Yet, instead of being alarmed at the possibility, you manage to feel bad for his situation. You helplessly watch as he pours nearly the entire bottle on his wound, getting rid of any debris that’s got on it. He clearly does not care about the wet stains it’s created on your sheets. They’re messy anyway. “Give me that,” the injured man comments and nods at the needle and thread with his head.

You do as told, staying silent as you let the professional do what he knows is best. He cleans the needle with the antiseptic fluid and prepares the wound some more. You want to advise him to at least use some pain killers before he goes to work on it, however they’d take too long to take effect. There is no time to do all of that.

“Ah,” you hiss, like you’re the one experiencing the pain, as you notice how he’s starting the suture near the edge of his wound. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, not wanting to witness the gruesome scene. A few occasional grunts and groans sounding from the man leave you nauseous. You can’t imagine what he’s going through at the moment, cleaning and stitching up his own injury. He seemed to know what he was doing, so you don’t comment on it any further.

After a couple seconds pass, you hear another pained hiss. You can’t stand it. You’re just sitting at the edge of your bed, hoping for the best. Hoping that he could make use of all that you provided him with. “Can I help somehow?” You breathlessly ask, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Yeah, by shutting up,” The older man answers bluntly. He’s fixated on healing his wound the best he could, and your voice is disrupting that focus. He’s made some progress with the suture. It isn’t done under perfect circumstances, but he’s used to it. His body has been through enough since childhood to have built up a resilience to most things. The pain and discomfort are nothing he isn’t familiar with.

You bite your lip and apologize for asking him something, “sorry.” His deep voice makes you shiver. It only reminds you of the fact that you have a grown man in your room. A possible killer on the loose. You don’t push your luck and just remain silent. You don’t want to end up as another victim.

Though you have a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. Where that feeling came from, you have no idea. It could be your delusions, however you’re sure he wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. Maybe it’s due to that little moment of vulnerability he showed in the halls moments ago. Your body warms up at the memory of how his head laid against yours for a split second.

The man finishes off the suture with a firm surgeon knot. He cleans the remaining blood with the tissues he’s drowned in disinfectant. You look his way again when you hear him shifting in his place. Your baffled as you notice how he’s trying to stand up. You don’t know much about wounds, but you know for certain that someone cannot stand up after getting an injury stitched. It could reopen the wound.

Your hand moves on its own. You firmly grab the man’s wrist and tug him back down on your bed. The stranger lets out a surprised grunt and instinctively slaps your hand away. He wants to leave.

To him, it’s nothing serious. This is just another day in his life. He’s used to ignoring his body’s pleas for rest. Vulnerability does not look good on him. He hates it.

The older man parts his lips to defend himself, yet quickly decides on the opposite. He shuts his mouth once his eyes met your pretty ones. They’re glimmering with tears. He does not realize why you’re suddenly so upset. Nor does he actually care... He thinks.

He just wants to leave before you ask too many questions. It’s best to act like you two have never met. For his sake and yours.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. The silence creates an undeniable tension between you both. You don’t exchange words, though you think he knows what you mean with that look you’re giving him. You’re indirectly begging him to stay still and rest. You know he needs it. He secretly knows he needs it as well, though does not want to acknowledge that weakness.

The stranger sighs in frustration. He looks down at the wound he’s worked hard to patch up. His head hurts. His eyelids are heavy. His limbs are unresponsive. He has no other choice but to lay back. He promises himself that he’d leave after an hour or two. He wants to have nothing to do with you.

A college girl helping him. Who would’ve thought that day would come. Did he become that weak? He has always refused the help of others, so what would make this any different? He can leave and deal with the consequences of that poor decision on his own. However, his body doesn’t move an inch.

The man frowns as he realizes that his cold and distant attitude would get him nowhere this time. His body is actively resisting the urges to leave.

You cautiously ascertain his reactions. You notice the way he slumps back against your pillows with a curse word leaving his lips. You can’t help but feel relieved. You don’t know why, but you’re happy that he’s staying with you. Even if it’s just for a little longer. You want to make sure he’s going to be fine.

You nod silently and don’t say a word for a good while. You don’t want to annoy the man more than you already have. You get up, knees buckling as the adrenaline wears you down. You’re glad you haven’t been caught and that the man you saved didn’t die. You’re tired from everything that went down in the last hour or so.

Though, you cannot rest.

You clean up the mess around your bed. The used, bloody tissues. The rain that’s dripped down your clothes and onto the floor, making small puddles on the surface. The piece of leather you had used as a temporary solution for the stranger’s bleeding. After you’ve gotten rid of all that, you finally take off your coat and shoes. You want to take a bath as soon as possible. And dry your hair.

You don’t take your eyes off the man on your bed. He’s starting to stir again, which could mean one of two things. He’s either trying to escape or trying to change his position. To your surprise, you catch him pull his shirt over his head. The older man’s ripped physique comes into view. Faint veins run down his beefy arms, his abs are perfectly defined, and his waist compliments his bulky stature.

You’re staring. You only realize it when your eyes catch the way he’s attempting to wrap some gauze around his lower abdomen. You can tell that he’s struggling, but he does not ask for help. Nor does he even look your way—acting like it’s just him in the room. It’s easy to conclude that he’s never depended on anyone in his life. It saddens you.

You walk over to your bed and sit down at the edge. You wordlessly reach out to grab the roll of gauze from his hand. Your fingers brush against his palm while you do so, and you can feel the rough calluses on his skin. You don’t comment on it but make a mental note of your discovery.

You carefully wrap the gauze around his waist once. You’re as cautious as you could be, not wanting to inflict any more discomfort on the stranger. He doesn’t resist. He’s too tired to do so. Alhough, that doesn’t stop him from showing his complaints about the situation through his distant body language. His eyes are staring at the nearby wall, his expression as stoic as ever.

You go around with the roll of gauze once more. You lean a bit closer to his torso to properly do your job. You can’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed by your proximity. Neither of you says anything about it. He doesn’t move away, and you take that as a sign to continue tending to him.

The older man can’t help but feel that urging desire to push you away and leave. He doesn’t want to be involved in any of this. You weren’t supposed to find him. You weren’t supposed to help him. You weren’t supposed to bring him back here. He hates the idea of letting someone – you - get close to him. He hates letting others in his personal space.

“What’s your name, sir?” Your soothing voice breaks the silence. You’re still visibly nervous, but also a lot less panicky. He finally looks down at you, seeing you put the gauze in place before grabbing a roll of bandages. He hates your touch.

The stranger clenches his jaw. He had to have scared you away in that back alley. He couldn’t and that’s what got him in such a predicament. One that triggers his many internal issues and struggles. He hates having to talk about himself to others. That’s how most bonds form.

“None of your damn business, girl,” The older man growls. His tone is harsh and cold, but you don’t back away nor even flinch. That only serves to irk him more. You’re meant to cower in fear, leave him alone and never turn back, but you do the complete opposite. You don’t know him and yet still choose to take care of him.

You nod, not pushing the matter any further. The injured stranger narrows his eyes for a second. Nothing seems to work on you. His intention is to scare you off, though the more he tries, the more you seem to get closer. It’s got the total opposite effect and he despises it.

He hates it all. Your closeness, your need to help him, your eyes that stare up at him with such worry, your hands bandaging him up. He promised himself, the day his wife died a couple years ago, that he’ll never involve himself with people if it isn’t for business related matters.

He’s managed to live all by himself for all those years and reached a level of independence that others could only dream of. Now it’s shattered. It feels like he’s back to square one because of your choice today. The choice to help a total random stranger.

The older man closes his eyes for a second and sighs deeply. It’s foolish of him to think of such unimportant matters. He’ll just use this to his advantage. He’ll use you, your kindness and everything you have to offer for his own sake. He’ll exploit you like he’s done to many other women before. That’s the way he’s used to treating others.

He’ll indulge your need to help him and try to act nice to satisfy those innocent wishes of yours. Just for his sake and his sake only, he promises himself.

The older man eventually speaks up again after you managed to bandage him up properly, “…Toji.”

You raise your eyebrows. You guess that that’s his name. Your lips curl up into a faint smile, feeling thankful that Toji decided to reveal that little detail about him. You grab his bloodied shirt and put it with the rest of your clothes that you need to wash. Your eyes wander over his exposed upper body for a split second, looking for any other possible injuries, only to find none. You nod in satisfaction as you grab a washcloth and wet it with some water, “that’s a nice name.”

That’s a first. Toji didn’t see the significance of complimenting someone’s name. Everyone has one, it’s not special, so why would you tell him it’s nice? Maybe he just doesn’t understand sentimental stuff like that. He’s not made out for such things. “Hm,” he lets out a small hum in acknowledgement and that’s all you get.

You walk towards him again and brush his bangs to the side. Toji holds himself back from moving away from your touch, but then remembers the decision he made mentally just moments ago. He’ll use that kindness of yours to his advantage until he’s all healed up. Then he’ll leave for good.

You place the cold cloth on his forehead. You know he’ll have a fever throughout the night because of the wound he’s suffered. You’re simply preparing him for that. You grab the painkillers that are scattered around the bed and place them on your nightstand, along with the water bottle. If he needs it, he’ll grab it, you think.

“Ah, sorry,” You snap out of it and realise that you haven’t introduced yourself properly. You might as well, considering you’ll be having Toji as your roommate for a couple days. Or at least you hope he stays that long until he’s all healed up. You continue, “my name is..”

“I already know.” Toji cuts you off before you’re able to reveal your name. You’re dumbfounded for a second. What does he mean by ‘he knows’? You tilt your head in confusion. You try to figure out how he could’ve possibly learnt your name but are unable to make any assumptions.

Toji easily notices your bewilderment. He admits that that could’ve come over as extremely creepy. He looks at the nearby wall and points at the decorations with his chin. You follow his gaze and instantly recognize what he’s staring at. It’s a picture with your friends that you have framed. They gifted it to you some time back and had engraved your name in the frame.

Toji must have cautiously examined his new surroundings whilst you were busy finalizing the treatment for his injury. You understand the need for that. Anyone would be wary in a new environment. “Hehe. Right,” he’s quite observant, you think to yourself.

You look outside of your window and close the tiny gap between your curtains. Even if you’re on the second floor, you don’t want to risk anyone finding out about what you did tonight. It still hasn’t properly processed in your brain; the fact that you have smuggled an alleged killer into your dorm. Maybe it will hit once you sleep and wake up tomorrow.

You look down at Toji with great concern. Even if the wound has been taken care of, you’re unsure if it’s even enough. A doctor would’ve been the safest option. But seeing how great Toji is handling the pain, you guess that it’ll be just fine. You glance at your hands. They have some dried blood on them. You also reek of the rain since you’re still uncomfortably soaked from before.

You decide to go take a shower. Before that, you make sure Toji has everything he needs. You give him a towel to dry himself off and make sure he can reach the first aid kit if needed. You stare at the pile of bloodied and wet clothes in the corner of your room. Both his and yours. You’ll take them to the laundry mat tomorrow.

You avert your attention back to Toji. He’s lying on his back, head turned away to the wall so he wouldn’t have to see you or look you in the eyes. It’s like he’s in his own world. You speak up again, this time a little louder, “are you gonna be alright now?”

Silence again. Toji doesn’t face you and keeps his eyes closed for some peace of mind. He sounds indifferent and distant as he answers you, “who knows.”

The ambiguous answer certainly doesn’t help ease your anxiety. You don’t want the older man to regress back to a state of near unconsciousness again. Despite your wishes, you can’t do much about it. Calling an ambulance or asking for help from others is a big no-no. For you as well, since you’ll be dragged into a big mess if anyone were to find out you gave shelter to a murderer.

“Uhm, all right. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You announce quietly, not expecting a response. You would’ve preferred it if Toji did respond so you could leave your room for a couple minutes in peace. Without worrying about his condition. You know that you’re annoying him with the constant questions and comments, but you can’t help it. You’re worried. Even if he hates the attention and would love to have as less interaction with you as possible.

“D-Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll be back.” You add quickly. You take a few steps towards the exit and place your hand on the door handle. Your limbs won’t take another step forward. You’re worried sick that Toji’s going to grab his chance and leave the moment you’re gone. You don’t want him to go. On one hand, it’s selfish of you, but on the other hand, it’s out of consideration for his situation.

You turn your head and glance at his still figure on your bed. His bulky stature nearly took up the entirety of it. You can’t help but ramble about your worries to him, hoping it’d convince him to stay, “If they find you, I’ll get in trouble and god knows what will happen to yo—”

“Just go, woman.” Toji’s deep voice rings through your ears. It’s the second time he’s cut you off. You’re pissing him off, clearly. You immediately zip it and do as told. You decide to put your trust in him and believe that he won’t take the opportunity to leave behind your back.

Without another word, you sneak out of your dorm room, making sure to close your door behind you. You act normal in case anyone walks by and finds your behaviour suspicious. You make a beeline towards the communal showers with your toiletry bag and pyjamas in hand.

Meanwhile, Toji is finally experiencing some real peace. He empties his mind, though cannot seem to get rid of your voice. He still can’t comprehend why somebody would be this worried for him. A college student who’d be at risk of being expelled if found out. You’re taking such great risks for a man like him? He doesn’t understand.

Toji rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands and groans in aggravation, “unbelievable.” Why he’s thinking it through is also something he cannot grasp. The man decides to enjoy the quiet atmosphere for now. He’s still somewhat disheveled from the entire ordeal and if he were to keep his brain running, he’d lose his mind completely. He drapes an arm over his eyes and lies there silently on the soft mattress.

A couple minutes pass. You feel like you’ve taken the quickest shower ever. You avoid as many students as possible while you make your way back to your dorm. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. You open the door and peek through the crack. It’s pitch dark in the room. The sun had fully set a while back and your curtains cover any light from outside.

You lock your door and step forward carefully. You squint and wait for your vision to accommodate to the darkness. You approach your bed and finally let out that breath you’ve been holding in. He’s still there. Toji’s still where you left him. His chest is slowly moving up and down, his breathing steady as he rests.

You quietly turn on the nightlamp in your room. It casts a faint shadow over Toji’s face. He seems to be asleep. You can’t quite tell for sure since his bicep is nearly covering the entirety of his face, but you judge based on his breathing patterns. You sit on the edge of your bed and feel tired yourself after that eventful evening. You’re sleepy. The adrenaline has worn off and exhausted you to no end.

You glance down at the bandage around his torso. You’d have to change that for him tomorrow. For now, you’re content with the outcome of it all. You shift in your seat, which causes your hand to brush against Toji’s on the bed. You feel the warmth creep up to your head. His veiny hands still had stains of blood on the skin.

Now that Toji’s asleep, he won’t refuse your help. You grab a spare washcloth from your wardrobe and wet it with some water. You carefully lift Toji’s left hand. His palm touches yours and you find yourself enjoying the physical contact. His hand is heavy—bigger and rougher than yours. There are faint scars on his fingers which reminds you of his unknown identity.

All you’ve discovered until now is his name. His background is a mystery, and you have the feeling that it’s going to stay a mystery. You’ve realized by now that Toji does not open up to just anyone. You diligently clean the crimson stains from his left hand and move to do the same for the right one. You’re as careful as you can be, not wanting to wake the injured man from his well-deserved rest.

Once done, you put the washcloth away. You yawn and look at the clock. It’s nearly midnight already. You can’t sleep on your bed since it’s occupied, and it doesn’t fit two people. You look down at the soft carpet below your feet. That’ll have to do.

You grab an available pillow and a spare blanket, setting up your own little sleeping bag on the carpet right next to the bed. You lay down and stare at the ceiling. The ticking of your clock and the occasional sound of traffic outside of the building are the only loud sounds that distract your mind from any turbulent thoughts.

All you want is to sleep. What’ll happen tomorrow or the day after that is a problem for later. You’re safe for now. For today, you can relax. Your door is locked and the man you saved hadn’t left just yet. You feel a strange form of comfort having him with you. Even if he may be a bad person, his presence somehow soothes your tired body and mind. You feel like you’re safe with him. No harm shall come your way tonight.

And with that decisive thought, you close your eyes and give in to the slumber. You turn to lay on your side, facing the frame of your bed. Facing Toji.

You smile and utter your final words for the day, “good night, Toji. Sleep well.”

You drift into the land of dreams and discard your eventful reality. Little did you know that the man on your bed had been wide awake the entire time and is now left unable to sleep. . .

to be continued !

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk angst #toji angst #please give it lots of love :)

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lucyrose191 · 5 months

Note

Oh oh, can you write a pt2 of your kimi raikkonen fic? The date 🥰

SPOKEN ADMIRATION| K.RÄIKKÖNEN

Author’s note; not too sure how I feel about this, it’s not my best work.

Pairing; Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary; Whilst the rest of the grid are out partying and celebrating Kimi and Y/N spend some time alone getting to know each other in his hotel room together

Warning; Implied age gap but not specified.

F1 Master List , Part 1

Y/N didn’t know if she understood Kimi correctly when he had invited her to his room for ‘a drink’. These days that could mean anything, if it was anyone else she’d assume they were asking her out as a sort of relaxed date to get to know each other but this was Kimi Raikkonen, possibly one of the hardest people in the world to understand.

Did he want to get to know her better?

She had never really payed much attention to men, she had most definitely been approached and asked out before but with a goal as ambitious as hers growing up she found it best to focus on racing rather than any other aspects of her life, racing was just more important to her.

She also wasn’t really a fan of how immature guys her age could be but Kimi wasn’t her age, their conversations had been pretty limited but she couldn’t deny that he was charming in his own way.

His ‘iciness’ had never deterred her in any way because she herself was like that too, in fact now that she thought about it she seemed to enjoy the press conferences much more when Kimi was there with her, their personalities, as blunt or ‘harsh’ as they could be, fit well together and she knew the journalists hated interviewing them together but Y/N found herself enjoying those interviews more than any others.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, she hadn’t put much effort in her outfit, she thought if she was simply going to be spending the evening with Kimi in his room then comfort was the way to go and settled on a jogger and hoodie set, even if Kimi did want it to be a sort of date she doubted he’d have put in much effort as well.

Her hair looked great though and she had minimal makeup on and deemed it enough for the night.

Arriving at his hotel room, her nerves had skyrocketed, something she wasn’t familiar with as she was usually confident but it seemed all that confidence had left her tonight.

Not wanting to stand in the hallway of the hotel all night, she knocked on the door, it only took a few seconds for him to answer.

She was taken by surprise.

He was wearing a grey top with matching sweats but it was the glasses on his face that had caught her attention.

He looked hot.

"I didn’t know you wore glasses," she commented lightly as she walked past him into his room, taking notice of how uncannily tidy it was, she didn’t imagine him as a near freak but he surely wouldn’t have cleaned his room just because she was coming, would he?

"Just at night," he shrugged, gesturing to his bed for bed to sit whilst he walked round the other side where there was a bottle of wine and two glasses waiting.

Y/N gave him a funny look. "Since when did you drink wine? I thought you were into the hard stuff."

Kimi looked at her before looking towards the floor as though trying to hide a smile knowing she was right. "You prefer wine," he simply stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/N stood for a moment and stared, letting his words sink in. "I do-but, well, I thought you invited me here to try and get me drunk? I was expecting whiskey and jäger bombs."

Kimi sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed, popping open the bottle of wine and filling the glasses half way. "I didn’t invite you here to get drunk," he muttered, turning himself around to hand over her glass before lying his body against the headboard, his own glass in hand resting against his stomach.

She took the glass and mimicked his movements, both lying next to each other as she thought about his words and what to say in return. "Why did you invite me here?" She eventually settled on asking, not really wanting to beat around the bush.

Kimi pursed his lips at her question, eyes trained on the ceiling as he tried to find the words, he couldn’t just blurt it out, that would be wrong.

Y/N turned her head and looked at him curiously, "Do you like me, like, are you attracted to me?" She asked bluntly.

She watched as a subtle pink tinge blossomed on his cheeks and tried to press down the smile that was trying to appear on her face.

"S’ppose so," he responded, his voice that usual Finnish gruff that seems to be more prominent when he tried to be nonchalant or brush a topic to the side.

"You suppose so?" Y/N asked, biting down on her bottom lip, feeling he mouth threatening to stretch wider into a smile.

She wanted to laugh when he simply shrugged in response, knowing that if this was going to go anywhere then it was up to her because getting this far was probably way out of his comfort zone and it seemed he was really trying. "Did you ask me here as a date?"

"It was just a thought- Sebastian thought it would be a good idea-"

"-This was Sebastian’s idea?" The smile fell from her face.

Kimi rubbed a palm over his face as he saw the look on her face, he raised the glass to his mouth and downed its entirety before sitting up and facing her properly.

"I wanted it, he pushed me. I’m glad he did. I hoped you’d be open to the idea but I know you aren’t interested in finding- I just thought-"

"You really aren’t good with words, are you?" Y/N smiled at him, finding his rambling quite adorable.

"You’re right though, I’m not really interested in finding someone, or well- I wasn’t but then you asked which took me by surprise and if you wanted to then I’d give it a go, us two. I’d rather keep it on the down low though, for now at least, until it’s something."

A half a smile had grown on Kimi’s face as Y/N had rambled, relief filling his chest at her words. He was honestly more than fine with keeping it quiet, whatever it was, it would be nice to figure out things without people prying and he wouldn’t want to be the cause of her receiving backlash.

He couldn’t give a shit about anything that’s said about him but Y/N has worked so hard to get to where she is and he didn’t want to affect that, besides he was planning on retiring in the next few year so after that then there’d really be no issue.

"Are you okay with that?" She asked, not knowing what his silence meant.

Kimi looked at her in the eye and nodded, revelling in the pure joy on her face.

"So, what does Kimi Räikkönen do when he’s not busy with his hobby?" Y/N tried to get to know him.

"Bwoah, I don’t know," he blew out a large puff of air as he thought before shrugging "Sleep."

Y/N rolled her eyes "Of course you do, that’s all I ever see you doing," she teased.

"I don’t want to talk about me, I want to know about you," he told her strongly which she relented to knowing that there was time for her to get to know him.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Everything," he immediately responded as though he didn’t even need to think about it.

Y/N looked down to hide her smile before looking back up into his eyes that were sitting intently on her, his eyes held a soft gaze that she had never seen him have before; not realising that it actually appeared quite often whenever she was around.

"Well," she began. "When I was younger, I used to be quite bothered about what the boys in karting would say about me but then my dad told me that it was stupid that I even listened when I was easily beating them on the track and would be able to beat them with my fists too if he allowed me to, ever since then I just imagined myself punching everyone whenever they said something about me, I still do it now, the amount of times I’ve imagined punching Will Buxton in the face is ridiculous." She laughed melodically causing Kimi to smirk.

"My favourite colour is light blue, it has been since I was born because my parents got told I was a boy and had gotten me a blue stuffed rabbit that I still have to this day. I’ve always wanted to drive for RedBull because Sebastian drove for the team and he was my favourite driver, I loved how ruthless he was."

Kimi was never going to tell Sebastian that because if he found out the woman Kimi liked had seen Seb as an idol then the German would never let him live it down.

"Something you might not like is that I actually hate partying and getting drunk because I got alcohol poisoning as a teenager and I love that you’re always yourself in front of the cameras and show exactly who you are and where you’re here, to race, you couldn’t care less about the fame and I admire that."

As she finished speaking she looked him in the eyes, appreciating the thoughtful look on his face and the soft curve of his lips.

They simply stared at each other for a while, shoulders touching and wine glasses long forgotten, Y/N still half filled.

It was a subconscious move in the way Kimi’s face inched closer to hers, he hadn’t even noticed but she did and mimicked him until their noses were lightly brushing against each other.

Eventually, it was Y/N that inched forward and pressed her lips against his. She had never experienced a fluttering stomach from a kiss before, right now was a first. There were butterflies flying around crazily in her abdomen and every thought had disappeared, leaving her a cloudy mind.

When they pulled apart for air, they kept their bodies close, not really wanting to lose their connection entirely, both searching the others eyes for any sign of regret but pleasantly found none.

Kimi lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, silently pulling her into his embrace.

Not much needed to be said between the two, there was now a clear unspoken agreement between the two that it was now the start of something that would potentially be great, if not the start of what could be their entire lives,

Both were looking forward to it, grateful that a simple night together could’ve made so much progress.

#formula one x you #f1 fanfiction #fluff #formula one x reader #formula one #iceman x reader #kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen x reader #kr7 #iceman #motorsport #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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k0juki · 11 days

Note

omg hi!

Can I request a Kimi one-shot where the reader isn't Finnish or northern in the slightest (I was thinking about Mediterranean, like Italian or something like that) and she feels bad that whenever she's around, her bf and all his mates and family speak English so she can understand what they're saying. So one day she decides to learn Finnish on her own withouth telling anyone and fast forward to a year or so, she's gotten to a pretty good level although the language is completely different from her own and one day she surprises Kimi by speaking to him in Finnish while they're cuddling. I wanna see what he does to that lol.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for reading all of this!!! 💝

Hey @cliosunshine!! Thank you for request!!🩷

Kimi Räikkönen x fem!reader

A/N: And for everyone that are still waiting for their request, I'm trying to make them ASAP, because I was ill and I couldn't do them, but now I'm on it!

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

Warnings: translated Finnish! mention of y/n and fluff.

Words: 373

---

The warmth of the warm sun streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom where Kimi and the Y/n lay together in a cozy embrace. Kimi's steady breathing filled the air, his arm draped protectively over her as they basked in a rare moment of quiet.

For months now, Y/n had been secretly teaching herself Finnish, determined to bridge the gap that had always stood between her and Kimi's world. She always felt a bit aside because of their language barrier, but she was determined to change that.

She had spent countless hours pouring over textbooks, wrestling with the unfamiliar sounds and structures of the language, all without a word to anyone. But today was different. Today, she was ready to reveal her secret. "Kimi," she murmured, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "I have something to tell you."

His blue eyes, usually so calm and unreadable, blinked in surprise. "What is it?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. Taking a deep breath, Y/n summoned her courage. "I've been learning Finnish for some time now," she confessed, her heart pounding in her chest. Kimi's brow furrowed in confusion. "Finnish?" he repeated, clearly taken aback.

"Yeah.." that nervous feeling could be heard in her voice and she knew that. "I wanted to surprise you, so I've been studying, every day, in secret." There was a beat of silence as Kimi processed her words, his eyes searching hers as if trying to gauge her sincerity. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Se on erittäin söpöä sinulta" Kimi slowly said, to know, she could understand every single word. /That's very sweet of you/

"You didn't have to do that, you know?"

"I know but I wanted" Y/n could feel the tension melting away, replaced by a warm, fluttering feeling in her chest. She had been so nervous, unsure of how he would react, but now, seeing the genuine happiness in his eyes, she knew it had been worth it.

Kimi's gaze softened, his hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "Ja nyt voit" he replied, his voice filled with a quiet awe. /And now you can/

---

Requests are open!

Picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

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gigabyte-flare · 7 months

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: The townsfolk decide to hold the annual Harvest Festival despite the police chief's son being found dead. Meanwhile, Leon acts on his instinctual desires.

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

You’re somewhere in the middle of asleep and awake as you listen to Leon descend the stairs to answer the door, hearing him call out as you hear the squeak of the front door opening. You can’t understand what they’re saying but you immediately recognize the voice as Chief Bob, causing your anxiety to immediately spike.

Had your Dad actually called the police on Leon?

You decide it’s best to get up and look for yourself, so you climb out of bed, your eyes widening at the literal bloody mess that’s on Leon’s sheets. You’re mortified but you’ll deal with that later. Not wanting to put yesterday’s clothes back on just yet, you walk up to what you assume is Leon’s closet, opening it to see if you can find a t-shirt you can throw on. You spot a navy blue t-shirt, grabbing it and slipping it on over your head. It just barely covers everything, but it’ll work.

You go downstairs, following the sounds of Leon and Chief Bob’s voices to the front door. You walk up from behind Leon to stand next to him rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Everything ok, Leon?”

Leon turns to you, his eyes widening subtly upon seeing your attire before he replies, “everything’s fine, angel, Chief Dion was just telling me about the emergency town meeting later tonight.”

“Oh?”

“With the closure of the hiking trails up in the Notch, we need to decide if it’s safe to have the Harvest Festival,” Chief Bob explains, “I hope to see you both there tonight. It’s at 7:00.”

“Of course, we’ll try to be there,” Leon replies, giving Chief Bob a warm smile.

“Perfect, take care, you two,” Chief Bob says, giving the two of you a subtle wave before walking back over to his police cruiser.

Leon shuts the front door, looking over at you. His eyes scan up and down your body, a subtle smirk forming on his lips.

“I never thought you’d look so breathtaking in one of my old Raccoon City Police t-shirts.”

“Oh--” you reply, looking down at the faded R.P.D. logo before shifting your attention back to him, “I just threw on the first t-shirt I saw in your closet. I hope you don’t mind…”

“Of course not, angel. Now then, I’m sure you're starving, let’s get you some breakfast, hm?”

You reply to Leon with a nod as you follow him into the kitchen and watch him make breakfast for the two of you; the smell of bacon and eggs soon filling the room.

“Thank you, by the way,” Leon suddenly says as he continues to cook breakfast.

You raise an eyebrow, “for… what?”

You watch Leon plate the bacon and eggs before turning to you, handing you the plate, “for letting me be your first.”

“Oh…” you say, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks, causing your cheeks to turn pink, “n-no, thank you. You were amazing… and sorry that I’m on my period… I can’t imagine that was pleasant…”

“On the contrary, angel,” he says, plating his own breakfast before leading you to the dining table, “I very much enjoyed myself, regardless.”

If your cheeks weren’t red before, they certainly are now as you slowly eat away at your breakfast, glancing over occasionally to see Leon doing the same. After a few minutes of eating in silence, you speak up.

“Do you think they’ll cancel the festival?” you ask, mid-chew on a piece of bacon.

“Only one way to find out.”

The rest of the day had gone by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s time to go to the town meeting. You and Leon get into his Jeep and drive into town. You are taken aback by how crowded it is; Leon had to park in the grocery store parking lot, forcing the two of you to walk about 10 minutes to the town hall. You gather that almost everyone is here; there weren’t even any chairs left in the meeting hall; you and Leon stood in the back of the room, his arms wrapping around you.

You lean into his embrace as your eyes scan the crowd for your parents. Sure enough, your eyes settle on your father’s. The look on his face as he stares back at the two of you could have set something on fire. You watch as your mother suddenly turns to you, smiling before turning to your father and smacking him in the shoulder, forcing him to look away from the two of you.

You watch as Chief Bob walks out to the podium, tapping on the microphone to get everyone’s attention. The idle chatter immediately ceased, the room so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Chief Bob begins, “We honestly did not expect this large of a turnout but it warms my heart to see that the festival is something that our town clearly cares about.”

He clears his throat before continuing, “as many of you know, Oakvale has held this festival since 1947, this year marking its 40th anniversary. We’re about two weeks out but the festival committee has been keeping a close eye on the situation with hikers getting attacked and killed on the Franconia Notch trails. With Nate’s untimely death, that hit close to home for many of us, especially for my wife and I.”

You feel Leon give you a reassuring squeeze in his arms upon the mention of Nate.

The Chief continues, “and with the closure of the Notch trails, the committee has gone back and forth on whether or not we cancel the festival for the safety of not just our citizens, but of the tourists that will come here for the festival. However, it was decided that we will discuss this as a town; I’d like to open the floor for questions, concerns and comments.”

You and Leon listen as compelling arguments are tossed back and forth both for and against canceling the festival, the main concern being the loss of revenue for the town. There is no doubt that the festival is a huge money maker for Oakvale. Another concern, one that your father unsurprisingly brought up, is that with the trails now closed, that there’s a risk of the animal wandering into town, drawn by the large crowds.

“That can be avoided with enough police presence, Lincoln and Woodstock have already stated they’d lend us officers in the event we decide to hold the festival,” Chief Bob replies to your father.

For agonizing minutes, the room bursts into chatter while you and Leon stand in the back of the room, observing the spectacle. Chief Bob taps on the mic once more, the room going completely silent once more.

“Alright, let’s hold a vote. All in favor of canceling the festival, raise your hand.”

You watch as about a dozen hands go up, including your parents’.

“All in favor of holding the festival, raise your hand.”

This time, almost everyone’s hands go up, including yours and Leon’s. You lock eyes with your father once more, his look of disdain going straight into you, causing your blood to turn cold.

“Well…” Chief Bob says, looking around the room full of raised hands, “I guess that answers that question.”

It’s late; Leon doesn’t know what time it is. What he does know, however, is how perfect his angel looks beneath him, passed out from the string of orgasms he gave her some time ago. It’s been a week since she started staying here with him; Leon couldn’t believe his good fortune. He finds his gaze focused on her exposed neck, his hunger becoming ravenous.

No. He made a promise to himself he wouldn’t feed on her until it was time to give her his gift. Climbing off her, he sits at the edge of the bed as he peels the condom he used off. He lifts the condom up to eye level to inspect it, watching as a single larva wriggles around inside his seed trapped in the condom. Letting out a sigh, he stands up, walking into the bathroom, grabbing some toilet paper to wrap the used condom in, giving it a firm squeeze in his hand to ensure the larva is dead before tossing it into the trash.

Walking back into the bedroom, he grabs his boxers and jeans off the floor, putting them on. He walks over, checking to make sure she’s sleeping before he leaves the bedroom, descending the stairs to the padlocked basement door. Digging his keys out from his pocket, he unlocks the padlock and descends the stairs, turning the light on at the bottom. What he finds troubles him.

The young man he had brought back from his hunt over a week ago is clearly dead, his body slumped forward; the only thing keeping him upright is his restrained hands tied behind him around the support beam. Leon walks up to him, grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head and lifting his head up, letting go. He watches as the young man’s head immediately drops forward, confirming that he is very much dead. Judging by how white the man’s skin is, Leon wouldn’t have gotten much out of him anyway if he was still alive.

“Shit…” Leon mutters to himself.

Leon walks over to a workbench against the basement wall, grabbing a large knife from it. He walks back over to the dead young man, cutting his restraints. The body falls forward onto the floor with a loud thud. Leon walks back over to the workbench, putting the knife down and picking up a large tarp to wrap the man’s body in. Once the body is thoroughly wrapped, Leon slings the body over his shoulder, carrying it up the stairs, shutting the light off on his way up. He sets the body down onto the floor, turning around to lock the basement door back up.

He then turns to go up the stairs, stopping in the bedroom threshold to admire his angel’s sleeping form for a moment before he walks around to her side of the bed, bending down to give her a soft kiss on the lips. She stirs in her sleep.

“Leon…?”

“Hey angel,” Leon starts with a soft smile, “I have some traps on the hiking trails I need to check for the B.O.W.. I’ll be back, ok?”

“O-Ok… be careful…” she says softly, closing her eyes.

“I will. I promise,” Leon replies, giving her another kiss on the lips before he turns, leaving the bedroom.

He goes into the living room, putting his socks and work boots on before he walks back over to the body to pick it up off the floor, walking outside with it. He walks up to his Jeep, opening the tailgate and tossing the body inside, shutting it. He walks over to the drivers side, putting his keys into the ignition and driving off.

It must be really late because there isn’t a single soul on the road as Leon drives to the trailhead where he originally found the two poor hikers unfortunate enough to cross his path on his hunt. The fact that they were the same two men that gawked at him and his angel as he was courting her was just an added bonus. Coming upon the trailhead, Leon kills the headlights on his Jeep and turns in to park. He wastes no time grabbing the body from the back, unwrapping it from the tarp and heading deep into the woods with it. He finds a good spot to dispose of it, about a half mile from the body of the other hiker he killed that same night. He’s honestly surprised Fish and Game hadn’t found it yet.

After disposing of the body, Leon goes on the hunt, sniffing the air for any signs of anyone on the trails. He knew it was a long shot now that the trails are closed, but he is hoping there would be someone stupid enough to come anyway despite the ordinance. Leon must have walked several miles but can’t find a single scent of human life in the forest. He does stumble upon a deer. He technically can survive on animal blood but Leon is a picky man.

Human blood tastes so much better.

After several hours, Leon can see that the sun is about to come up, so he calls off his search, returning to his Jeep to drive home while it’s still dark. His timing is perfect, because the sun is just starting to rise as he pulls up to his house, parking his Jeep to go inside. He’s surprised to be hit with the smell of eggs and bacon as soon as he walks in; his angel must have gotten up to make breakfast.

“I’m back!” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen, confirming his suspicions upon finding her in front of the stove.

She turns, smiling at Leon as he walks into the kitchen, “you went out without a jacket or anything? Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah I’m fine, the cold air is good for burning calories,” Leon replies with a chuckle as he walks up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “thank you for breakfast, angel.”

Leon kisses the top of her head as he watches her cook. He appreciates the gesture, even if the food will do nothing to sate his hunger.

“Any sign of the B.O.W.?” she asks, leaning into his embrace as she cooks.

Leon shakes his head, “nope. Nothing.”

While the town is busy getting ready for the Harvest Festival, you and Leon are hard at work on his house. Over the last couple of weeks since you practically moved in with him, you two managed to get the living room and entryway redone and decided to work on the master bathroom upstairs. It’s small, so most of the time it was just Leon working on it while you keep him company. Currently he’s laying under the bathroom sink, redoing the plumbing from the sink while you sit on the edge of the bed.

Over the last day or so, you notice that Leon is looking exceptionally pale and today, you can see some of his veins are dark and prominent, especially on his arms. He also seems to tire more easily, his breaths heavy as he works to wrench off one of the pipes under the sink.

“Leon,” you finally speak up, “have you been feeling ok?”

Leon stops what he’s doing, sitting up and looking at you with a quizzical look on his face, “what makes you ask, angel?”

“You just look… I dunno… sick…”

Leon looks down at his bare arms, seemingly acknowledging how pale he looks as he nods his head before standing up from the floor.

“I suppose I have been pushing myself pretty hard, lately,” he says, walking up to you before sitting next to you on the bed.

“Maybe you should take a break. The Harvest Festival starts tomorrow and goes until this Saturday, Halloween; let’s pick a day and go!”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, angel,” he says, wrapping his arm around you.

You notice immediately that his skin is cold and clammy, but you chalk that up to his exhaustion from working on the house nonstop.

The two of you decide to go Wednesday in hopes that it wouldn’t be as crowded. Unfortunately, you were wrong, very wrong. Parking was next to impossible until Leon finally found a spot way in the back of the lot by the forest. It’s late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky. The Oakvale fairground is teeming with life, the sounds of people laughing and screaming on carnival rides filling the air. The star attraction, a large ferris wheel, lights up the entire area like a lighthouse, drawing everyone to it like moths to a flame.

Leon is wearing one of his dark leather jackets, but even with that on you could see that Leon looks even more pale than he had the other day, noting dark veins spreading over his muscular neck.

“Leon, are you sure you’re feeling ok, you look worse than you did the other day.”

“I promise, I’m fine, angel. I just need some fresh air, which I’m sure we’ll get plenty of here.”

“Alright… but if you look worse tomorrow, promise you'll go to a doctor.”

"I will, angel," Leon replies, giving you a reassuring smile before he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

He suddenly leans down to you, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling deep. You let out a playful giggle at his gesture.

“Leon! What are you doing?”

“You smell irresistible, angel,” he replies, giving you a kiss on the top of your head before he pries his nose from your hair.

It takes several minutes to walk the length of the parking area to the fairground, the setting sun turning everything a brilliant orange as it makes its descent behind the mountains.

“How about we watch the sunset from up there?” Leon suggests, nodding his head towards the ferris wheel.

You feel your cheeks tingle at the idea, “we’ll have to get tickets first, there’s a ticket booth right there next to it.”

“Wait here,” Leon says, planting a kiss on the top of your head before you watch him walk up to the ticket booth.

You watch them exchange words, unable to hear anything they’re saying over the sounds of the crowd and the rides. With tickets in hand, Leon walks back over to you, reaching to take your hand and leading you over to the ferris wheel line. It’s long, but it goes fast; the two of you are next to board before you even know it. Getting into the cart, the two of you sit on one side as the wheel slowly begins to move up. Leon wastes no time pulling you into his embrace.

“So…” you begin resting your head on his chest, “once the B.O.W. is taken care of, you’ll have to leave, won’t you?”

You feel his chin rest on the top of your head, “I should be able to pull some strings to be able to stay here, I wouldn’t be fixing the house up otherwise.”

As the cart makes its ascent to the top, the two of you sit there in silence, but Leon’s gentle rubbing of your upper arm and the occasional kiss he places on the top of your head speaks more than words ever could. The love you feel for him is overwhelming, although for some reason you were hesitant to say it out loud. The cart finally reaches the top, stopping for a few minutes.

“Wow…” you say under your breath.

The sunset is the most beautiful you have ever seen. It looks like the whole sky is set ablaze as the sun slowly creeps behind the mountains. You feel Leon’s nose bury itself back in your hair, feeling him inhale deeply once more.

“Someday soon… I hope to give you something really special,” Leon says suddenly, “a gift.”

You shift in his embrace, looking up at him into his blue eyes, “what kind of gift?”

You can barely contain your excitement at the implication of his words. The first thing that immediately comes to mind is an engagement ring. You watch a smirk cross Leon’s lips as he stares back at you.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, you’ll have to wait and see.”

“You’re such a tease,” you say as you playfully punch his shoulder.

“God, I love you,” Leon replies before he pushes you into the side of the cart, kissing you deeply.

His words give you whiplash, you aren’t even given enough time to process them when his tongue dips into your mouth as he practically devours you. He breaks off the kiss for a moment, his lustful gaze locked on yours.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I fucked you up here?” he says with a smug look.

“Pretty sure they’d notice one of the carts moving erratically,” you reply, unable to contain your bashful giggling.

“Damn,” he replies, the disappointment evident in his voice as he leans back so that you can sit back up in the cart as it begins to make its descent.

You watch his eyes scan the fairgrounds for a moment before you shift back over to him, his arm draping across your shoulders. After a few minutes, your cart descends back to the ground and you’re let off the ride.

“I need to use the bathroom real quick, I think I saw it over there while we were up on the ferris wheel, I’ll meet you back here, ok?” Leon says, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

You reply with a quick nod as you watch Leon head into the crowd. You take this opportunity to look around at some of the vendors in the immediate area. A lot of them were selling cheap knockoffs of popular cartoon characters, funny hats and toys, but there are some homemade soaps and other homemade crafts and foods as well.

15 minutes go by and Leon still hasn’t come back yet. You do your best not to worry, you figure there is probably a large line to use the bathrooms; there always seems to be a line at the festival. You’re at a stall belonging to a lady that made handcrafted signs when all of a sudden you hear a very distinct sound.

Bang. Bang, Bang. Bang…

“Is that gunfire?!” you hear someone say as you hear more banging sounds ring out.

You quickly realize the sound is coming from the direction of the bathrooms.

“Leon!” you call out as you make a run to the bathrooms.

As you run closer, you can still hear the gunfire, and as you come upon the bathrooms, you realize the gunfire is coming from the woods behind them. You don’t hesitate and run into them, noting that there are several police officers following behind you with their guns drawn. You run about a quarter of a mile when you find Leon standing over a young man; his gun drawn and pointing to the depths of the woods.

“Leon!” you call out to him, the officers quickly catching up to you, “are you ok?! What happened?!”

Leon turns to you and you’re shocked to find his jacket, shirt and face are covered in blood, “when I got over here to use the bathroom, I heard someone calling for help, so I came to investigate. Something was on top of him. I managed to drive the creature off him but it bolted into the woods. I tried to resuscitate him but…”

You watch Leon’s gaze shift to the young man splayed out on the ground. The man had a large gaping wound in his neck, blood still coming out of it and his mouth. That at least explains why Leon has blood all over him, he had tried to perform CPR.

“Sir we’re going to need to see some identification,” one of the officers states, approaching him.

“Of course,” Leon says, pulling his wallet out and flipping it open to show a federal ID, “I’m agent Leon S. Kennedy, Division of Security Operations. I’m stationed here on official classified business.”

The officer nods, looking down at the dead young man, seemingly satisfied with Leon’s response. Chief Bob suddenly approaches, running his hand through his hair, staring down at the dead young man in disbelief.

“Son of a bitch…” Chief Bob says under his breath as he gently kicks the body with his foot before turning to the other officers, “evacuate the fairground, we need to shut down the festival.”

The ride home is solemn, you zone out looking out the window into the night as Leon drives. All you can smell is the man’s blood that is all over Leon’s clothes; he thankfully managed to clean off his face in the bathroom before leaving the fairground. You suddenly feel Leon’s hand caress your thigh, making you jump a little as you come out of your daze.

“You ok, angel?” Leon asks softly as he glances over at you.

“Yeah… I guess I’m just shaken. What was that guy even doing out there?”

“From what I saw when I first found him, he went out there to smoke a cigarette. Poor guy…”

“Did you see the B.O.W. at all?”

Leon shakes his head, “not really, it was dark, but I could see it had these back claw things and a long tail before it bolted into the forest. I’d never imagined it’d try attacking so close to town like that.”

“We’re never going to hear the end of it from my Dad…”

“Your father can kiss my ass,” Leon says, his voice full of malice.

“Leon… please don’t…”

“He treats you like shit, tries to control everything you do. It’s a miracle he’s even married to be honest.”

“Leon, he's still my Dad.”

“And you’re my mate. So long as I’m around, your father has no power over you.”

You blink a few times, your brain trying to figure out if you heard him correctly, “I’m your… what?”

You see Leon shake his head quickly, correcting himself, “sorry… city slang. My girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend.”

Hearing him refer to you as his girlfriend makes your nerves spark, you lean your head against the passenger side window in an attempt to calm yourself. The Jeep finally pulls into the driveway; Leon parks it on the side of the house and the two of you head inside. Leon makes sure the front door is locked.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a shower,” Leon says, peeling off his blood soaked jacket and shirt, walking over to the washing machine adjacent to the kitchen and tossing them inside.

“I like that idea a lot, actually, “ you reply as your eyes move up and down his naked torso, admiring his physique.

Leon smirks at you, seeing you gawk at him, “I knew you would, angel.”

You watch as Leon goes upstairs, you soon follow close behind him. He goes into the master bathroom, turning on the shower to warm it up before he discards the rest of his clothes. Even from where you stand in the master bathroom threshold, you can see that he’s already starting to get hard, meaning the two of you clearly had the same thing on your minds. The second thing you notice is that his skin looks a thousand times better than it had when you first got to the fairground; full of color and life. He was right; he had just needed the fresh air.

You begin to undress as Leon steps into the shower, joining him once you’re fully unclothed. Leon’s hands are immediately on you once you’re inside the shower with him, pushing you against the shower wall as he leans down to kiss the crook of your neck. You feel his hands grasp at your hips as you feel him kiss, suck and gently bite your neck; there will surely be marks later but in that moment, you don’t care; the only thing on your mind is him and how much you want him.

A soft moan escapes your lips as his own begin to trail down from your neck, to your shoulder, then to the front of your chest where his mouth latches onto one of your breasts. You feel his tongue lap the sensitive nipple, causing shivers to travel down your spine and throughout your entire body. With one of your hands, you caress down his toned chest until you’re greeted by his rock hard member, your hand grasping around it to give him slow, but firm strokes.

“Oh… fuck…” Leon moans, taking his mouth off your breasts to lean down and kiss you.

His kiss is deep and hungry, his tongue invading your mouth as he has your hips in his vice-like grip. You manage to break away, suddenly getting on your knees, gently holding his throbbing cock by the base as your tongue gently runs up the bottom to the tip. It’s a lovely shade of dark pink, crying pre-cum as you take him into your mouth.

“I get to fuck your pretty mouth?” you hear Leon growl as he thrusts into your mouth, his hand grasping the hair on the back of your head.

You gag as the tip of his cock pushes into the back of your throat at an increasingly fast pace; the sounds coming out of your mouth are borderline pornographic. You feel tears tease the corners of your eyes as Leon relentlessly fucks your mouth and just when it's becoming too much, his hand that’s on the back of your head yanks your mouth free, pulling you up to force you to stand.

Leon pushes the shower door open, aggressively pushing you against the bathroom counter. You manage to catch yourself with your hands, looking up into the mirror to see Leon looming behind you. One of his hands is placed on your back, pushing you forward as you feel his cock prod at your soaked hole. He quickly sheathes himself inside you, eliciting a loud moan out of you when he bottoms out inside you, your walls instinctively squeezing around him as he fills you.

He wastes no time thrusting into you. The thrusts are slow, but powerful, with purpose. A combination of his name and ‘oh my god’ spilling from your lips as you are fucked dumb on his cock.

“That’s it, taking me so well my pretty angel,” Leon purrs as he picks up the pace on his thrusts.

You lean your head forward, your arms shaking as they struggle to prop you up on the bathroom counter. Suddenly, you once again feel Leon’s hand grasp the hair on the back of your head, pulling you up so that your back is against his chest.

“This pussy is all mine, you hear me, angel?” Leon growls in your ear, “I want you to watch yourself as I breed you.”

His thrusts become aggressive, your mind too cock drunk to protest him cumming inside you. Your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head as the head of his cock abuses your cervix. A wave of pleasure washes over you as you cum on his length, your walls squeezing him tight as you moan loudly. Letting out an animalistic growl, Leon pushes himself as hard and as deep into you as he possibly can. You suddenly feel a sharp, excruciating pain from deep within your core followed by the warmth of his cum filling you as he pushes himself inside you; you watch as your face contorts in the mirror. Tears stream down your face as Leon’s arms wrap possessively around you while still pushing his throbbing cock inside you.

“L-Leon… it hurts!” you sob out in agony, your body violently trembling.

“Shhhhh… I know, angel, I know. You’re taking my seed so well, baby. I have to make sure it takes. It’s almost over, I promise,” he softly coos in your ear.

It feels like an eternity before Leon’s member finally stops throbbing inside you. He gives you a gentle kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out. You let out a pathetic whimper as you collapse against the bathroom counter, your body still shaking from both the pleasure and the pain. You can feel some of his cum leak out as it runs down the inner side of your leg. You feel Leon’s fingers spread your pussy lips open; you glance up in the mirror to see the look of pure admiration on his face as he stares at your leaking hole.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

Saturday morning, Mick’s favorite. His eyes slowly open to see the clock read 7:47am back at him. He rolls onto his back, stretching his arms out to find the space next to him is empty; Sandi is already up. Mick climbs out of bed, sliding his feet into his slippers before he walks into the master bathroom to relieve himself. Afterwards, he goes downstairs into the kitchen, the smell of bacon filling the air as he spots Sandi over the stove making breakfast.

“I grabbed the paper, hun. It’s on the table,” she says as she begins plating their breakfast.

Mick sits down at his chair, unfolding the newspaper to be greeted with large bold text reading:

Trick or Treating Canceled in Oakvale

Wild animal attack during annual Harvest Festival prompts town officials to cancel trick or treating.

Mick doesn’t bother reading the rest of the article. He flips the page, shaking his head.

“Did you see they canceled trick or treating tonight?” Mick asks Sandi as he reads through the paper.

“I did,” Sandi says as she brings two plates of bacon and pancakes over to the table, setting one down in front of Mick while she sits in a chair next to him, “what a shame.”

“Why does no one listen to me? I told them having the festival was a bad idea and look what happened.”

Not even mentioning Leon was there when it happened…

On one hand, it makes sense that Leon was there given what Leon had made him privy to when his daughter moved in with him, but there is still a part of him that thinks that Leon is somehow involved; he just can’t prove it.

“Honey, I know, but the festival is a huge part of this town, you know that.”

“I know…”

“Fish and Game found those two hikers from Plymouth State yesterday, both dead,” Sandi says, eating her breakfast.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh as he sets the newspaper down on the table, digging into his breakfast in silence, his mind wandering. He calls back to the first hiker that went missing, which wasn’t unusual around here. People went hiking in the Notch unprepared all the time. Now that he thought about it, he doesn’t think they ever found that person’s body.

The rest of the day is uneventful. Not getting trick or treaters is an adjustment. Mick spends his evening in his recliner, mindlessly scrolling through channels on TV. There’s a sudden rap on the door, startling Mick so much that he sits up in the recliner. He looks up at the clock, which reads just after 11:00pm. The knocking continues, insistent and forceful.

“Who the fuck could that be at this hour?” Mick asks himself under his breath as he walks over to the front door, opening it to find Leon, clearly out of breath as he leans up against the door frame with one arm.

“Leon!” Mick says, surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Mick,” Leon begins, “I have the B.O.W. cornered but not for long. I can’t take it down on my own.”

“Why come to me for help? Did you run here?” Mick asks, looking around behind Leon but not finding his Jeep.

“I did…” Leon replies, still winded as he stands up straight, “I came to you because you’re the only other person besides your daughter who knows about the B.O.W. and I am not putting her in danger.”

“Shit hold on, let me get my gun,” Mick says as he turns to walk into the house, but Leon grabs his arm to stop him.

“There’s no time, I have a gun for you right here,” Leon pats the holster strapped to his leg, “we need to go. Now.”

“I need to at least tell my wife--”

“No, don’t tell a soul, if it gets out there’s a B.O.W. here, there will be panic. I can’t let that happen.”

Mick is at war with himself, he doesn’t trust Leon, but on the chance that Leon is being truthful, this is his chance to put an end to this nightmare and things can finally go back to normal around here.

He looks to Leon, giving him a quick nod in acknowledgement, “let’s go.”

Leon pulls the gun from his hip holster and a flashlight from his pocket, handing them to Mick before he gestures for him to follow him. Mick follows, quietly closing the front door behind him before both of them break out into a run. Mick struggles to keep up with Leon, who’s obviously in much better shape than he is being a government agent and all. Within 10 minutes, they’re at the fairground, unsurprisingly; this is where the creature got its latest meal, of course it would stick around.

Leon and Mick head into the forest, Leon leading the way as they continue to run deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually, they come upon a small clearing, Leon slowing himself to a stop as Mick runs slightly ahead into the clearing. Mick looks around, not seeing any sign of life in the immediate area.

“Where did it go? Did the fucker take off?” Mick scoffs in frustration as he continues to look around ahead of him into the darkness, the flashlight doing little to penetrate it.

“It’s right here.” Leon growls from behind Mick.

Mick turns around slowly, the flashlight confirming his deepest fears as his breaths become ragged with his racing heart. Leon is standing behind him, shirtless. Black veins sprawl across his skin as Leon stares at Mick with piercing red eyes. Leon’s mouth starts to morph into a sinister grin, revealing two long, sharp canine teeth.

“I fucking knew it! What are you, some kind of vampire?!”

“Oh Mick… I’m so much more than that,” Leon purrs, flexing his fists as he slowly approaches him.

Mick watches in horror as four long, claw-like black appendages burst from his back, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbles backwards away from Leon’s approach. Then, a long scorpion-like tail snakes out from behind him, curling to the front to reveal a sharp, blade-esque end.

“Jesus Christ!” Mick cries out, holding the gun up and pulling the trigger.

Click, click, click, says the empty chamber of the gun.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… you really think I’d be stupid enough to give you a loaded gun, Mick?” Leon taunts, continuing his advance.

In a last ditch effort to defend himself, he chucks the empty handgun at Leon, who catches it with lightning fast reflexes with his hand, putting it back into his hip holster.

“You certainly had me nervous, Mick, you seem to be the only one who caught on to the fact that there’s something very wrong about me,” Leon says, his voice dripping with venom before he licks his fangs with his tongue.

“What do you want?!”

“I want what any man wants, to breed with his mate and pass down his bloodline. I’m the last of my kind, you know. I have to do my part to ensure the survival of my species.”

“Your mate? You mean my fucking daughter?!”

Leon lets out a low chuckle, “yes I mean your daughter. You should be proud of her, she’s currently carrying my offspring. She doesn’t know that yet, but she will soon enough, I promise you.”

“You son of a bitch! You won’t get away with this!”

“Oh, but I will Mick,” Leon says, grinning, “you see, the only ones that know what I truly am are you and I. I am quite famished, Mick and lucky for you, I enjoy playing with my food.”

Mick continues to back away from Leon, the light of the flashlight shaking as Leon stalks closer.

Leon chuckles once more before continuing, “I’ll even give you a head start, so I hope you make it fun for me.”

“Shit…” Mick says under his breath as the reality of his situation sinks in, watching Leon grin even wider as he spreads his arms out in a taunting gesture.

“Run.”

Part 6

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he #comes alive

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xxspringmelodyxx · 2 months

Text

Why Her and Not Me?

Gojo Satoru x F.Reader x Geto Suguru (Angst) Part IV

Hello my lovely readers! I am back with part IV, so I’m just gonna cut to the chase and let you all read! Thank you all for the support, I really appreciate you all so much <3333 Now, without further ado…Enjoy~

Masterlist

A few more weeks had slipped by, each day bringing Toru closer to the edge of his sanity. The once familiar rhythm of his life had been disrupted, thrown into disarray by the growing distance between you and him. No matter how hard he tried to push aside his feelings, they continued to gnaw at him, a relentless reminder of what he had lost.

Every passing day seemed to deepen the void that had formed in his heart, leaving him feeling hollow and incomplete. The ache of longing grew more pronounced with each passing moment, a constant presence that refused to be ignored. And as much as he tried to distract himself with work and other activities, his thoughts inevitably circled back to you, to the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence.

But it wasn't just the absence of your friendship that tormented him; it was the way you seemed to be drifting further and further away, drawn to Suguru like a moth to a flame. Every shared laugh, every whispered conversation, served as a painful reminder of the bond you shared with Suguru, a connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

Toru's frustration boiled beneath the surface, simmering with a volatile intensity that threatened to consume him. He couldn't understand why you were pulling away from him, why you seemed to prefer Suguru's company over his own. Was it something he had done? Something he had said? The questions swirled in his mind, each one adding fuel to the fire of his insecurity and self-doubt.

And as time continued to move forward, Toru's relationship with Osaka began to move backwards. It was becoming evident that their relationship was starting to suffer under the weight of his internal turmoil. He found himself growing increasingly distant and aloof, unable to fully commit to their relationship. He couldn’t, not when he felt his heart quickly being tethered to you. Their once easy bond had been replaced by tension and unease, their conversations strained and stilted.

Osaka, sensing the growing distance between them, had tried to reach out to Toru, to bridge the gap that had formed between them. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to break through the wall he had erected around his heart. It was as if he was a million miles away, lost in a world of his own making. And Toru felt horrible for it.

His guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders, a constant companion that refused to be ignored. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying Osaka, the girl who had stood by his side through thick and thin during all of this. She didn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire of his internal struggle, yet he couldn't deny the growing chasm that had formed between them.

Every moment spent with Osaka was tinged with a sense of guilt and remorse, a nagging reminder of the pain he was causing her. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the confusion and frustration that mirrored his own. And despite his best efforts to reassure her, to convince her that everything was okay, he knew deep down that their relationship was crumbling beneath the weight of his unresolved feelings.

But try as he might, Toru couldn't bring himself to end things with Osaka, couldn't find the words to shatter her heart into a million pieces. The thought of hurting her, of breaking her trust, filled him with a profound sense of shame and self-loathing. He had promised to be there for her, to love and cherish her with all his heart, and yet here he was, torn between two worlds, unable to give her the love and devotion she deserved.

And as the guilt gnawed at him, Toru couldn't help but wonder if he was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Was he destined to hurt the people he cared about most, to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake? The thought filled him with a profound sense of despair, a fear that he would never be able to escape the cycle of pain and regret that seemed to define his life.

Yet, despite his fear and uncertainty, Toru knew that he couldn't continue to live in limbo, caught between the past and the present. He needed to make a choice, to either let go of his feelings for you and move forward with Osaka, or risk everything for a chance at true happiness.

But amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of light that refused to be extinguished. It was the memory of you, of the warmth of your smile and the kindness in your eyes. You were his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, the one constant in his ever-changing world.

Despite his best efforts to push you away, to bury his feelings beneath a facade of indifference, Toru couldn't help but be drawn back to you. It was as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you, a magnetic attraction that defied reason and logic. And as much as he tried to deny it, to convince himself that he could live without you, he knew deep down that he was fighting a losing battle.

With each passing day, his feelings for you grew stronger, more insistent, until they consumed his every thought and action. He found himself longing for the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence by his side. But it seemed like you were doing your best to avoid him at every turn, adding to his frustration and confusion.

No matter how hard he tried to close the growing divide between you, to repair the fractured bond that had once held you together, it felt like you were slipping further and further away. And as Toru grappled with the realization that he might be losing you for good, he couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation and despair creeping in.

For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he had pushed you away too far. And as he contemplated the daunting prospect of facing a future without you by his side, Toru knew that he would have to confront his demons head-on if he ever hoped to find the redemption he so desperately craved. And he needed to do something about it now before it actually is too late.

——

As Suguru reflected on the past few months, he couldn’t help but marvel at how swiftly his bond with you had transformed. What had begun as a casual friendship had bloomed into something far more profound, a connection that seemed to defy explanation.

He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, captivated by the melody of your laughter, the radiance of your smile, and the sparkle in your eyes that hinted at hidden depths. Each moment spent in your company felt like a stolen treasure, precious and fleeting yet infinitely valuable.

He absolutely cherished and loved the way you laughed at his jokes, the way you listened intently to his stories, hanging on to his every word as if it were the most important thing in the world. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a sense of belonging and connection that filled him with joy and contentment. It was one of the main things about you that was unique compared to everyone else he’s known.

Of course, Suguru had always known there was something special about you. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he felt a spark light up between you two. It was as if fate had brought you into his life, weaving your presence into the fabric of his very being.

In the past, he found himself often watching you from afar, admiring your grace, your kindness, and the way you lit up the room with just your smile. After that, it didn’t take too long before Suguru found himself falling head over heels for you, unable to shake the feeling that you were meant to be together.

However, Suguru kept his emotions carefully concealed, fearing that they would jeopardize the friendship he cherished so dearly. He had convinced himself that it was enough to simply be near you, to bask in the warmth of your presence without expecting anything more.

And despite his growing feelings for you, Suguru had always been aware of your connection with Toru. He had seen the way you looked at him, the spark of affection in your eyes whenever he was near. And knowing that you liked Toru, Suguru had chosen to keep his feelings to himself, burying them deep within his heart where they could never be discovered.

Before Toru shattered your heart with his confession about loving someone else, Suguru maintained a careful distance, knowing that being close to you would only intensify his own feelings of longing and heartache. He watched from afar as you navigated your feelings for Toru, silently suffering as he witnessed the love and admiration etched on your face whenever you spoke of Toru.

However, he wouldn’t just straight up ignore you. He could never do that to someone like you. Whenever you needed comforting, Suguru made a conscious effort to be there for you, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it. He knew that his own feelings had to take a backseat to your happiness, and he was willing to endure the agony of unrequited love if it meant easing your burden, even if just a little.

But when news of Toru's and your situation finally reached Suguru's ears, it was as if a floodgate had been opened, unleashing a torrent of emotions he had long kept buried. The sight of you, heartbroken and vulnerable, stirred something deep within him, igniting a fierce determination to protect you from further harm.

It was in that moment that Suguru made a silent vow to himself: to do whatever it took to help you heal, to be the rock you could lean on in your time of need. And as he took the initiative to reach out to you, offering his unwavering support and understanding, he couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the beginning of something more.

———

Suguru found himself unable to resist the urge to reach out to you. He knew that you had been pretty busy the past few days with work and all, but all he wanted to do was to see your face and hear your voice.

So, with a sense of determination burning in his chest, Suguru picked up his phone and sent you a message, inviting you to join him for a walk in the park. He knew that the tranquil beauty of nature had a way of soothing the soul, and he hoped that spending time together in such a serene setting would help distract you from your work.

As Suguru awaited your response, he felt a familiar tug of nerves fluttering in his chest. As he stood beneath the swaying branches of the park's trees, Suguru couldn't help but wonder how you would react to his invitation. Would you be intrigued by the idea of an impromptu outing, or would you see it as nothing more than a casual gesture between friends? Either way, he was determined to make the most of their time together, cherishing every moment spent in your company.

When your reply came, filled with warmth and gratitude, Suguru felt a surge of relief wash over him. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of eager anticipation as he prepared to meet you.

About 10 minutes had passed and not even a second later, Suguru read a message from you saying you were at the park. He texted you his exact location, showing you where he was.

When you arrived, Suguru was struck once again by just how breathtakingly beautiful you were, your smile lighting up the evening air like a beacon of hope. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he watched you approach, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement.

"Hey, you," he greeted you, his voice soft and warm as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm so glad you could make it."

As you fell into step beside him, Suguru felt a sense of peace settle over him, as if the world had suddenly slowed to a gentle rhythm just for the two of you. The park was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the air alive with the sound of birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

For a while, the two of you simply walked in companionable silence, content to lose yourselves in the beauty of the world around you. Though, it didn’t take long before you two decided to situate yourselves somewhere nice to relax.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, Suguru and you found yourselves seated on a weathered wooden bench, bathed in the warm glow of the fading daylight. The air was filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets, lending an air of tranquility to the bustling city around you.

"You know," Suguru began, his voice soft and gentle, "I've always loved coming to this park. It's like an oasis of calm in the middle of all this chaos."

You nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, it's definitely one of my favorite places to escape to when life gets a bit overwhelming."

Suguru agreed, taking in every second.

For Suguru, every moment spent with you felt like a precious gift, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in an otherwise ordinary world. He couldn't help but be drawn to you, captivated by the gentle curve of your smile and the sparkle in your eyes. And as you sat side by side, the distance between you seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the space you shared.

"I'm really glad you invited me to come here today," you said, your voice soft and sincere. "It's been a while since I've just sat and enjoyed the beauty of nature."

Suguru smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest at your words. "I'm glad you came too. It's always better when you're here."

You sighed contentedly, leaning back against the bench and closing your eyes for a moment, relishing in the peace and quiet of the park. Suguru glanced at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he saw the light outline your beautiful figure.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued to bask in your presence.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it really is.” You finished, clueless to the fact that he was actually talking about you and not the scenery around you two.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, lost in your own thoughts as the world continued to spin around you. But eventually, Suguru broke the silence, his voice hesitant as he spoke.

“You know,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About life, and where I’m headed, and… well, everything, really.”

You turned to look at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “Oh? And what kind of things have you been thinking about?”

Suguru shrugged, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. “Oh, you know, just… stuff. Like, where I see myself in five years, and what I want out of life, and… yeah.”

You nodded, sensing that there was more to Suguru’s words than he was letting on. “It sounds like you’ve been doing some serious soul-searching.”

Suguru chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you could say that. I guess I’ve just been feeling a bit lost lately, you know? Like I’m drifting aimlessly through life, without any real direction or purpose.”

You reached out and placed a comforting hand on Suguru’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes. Life can be so unpredictable, and it’s easy to feel like you’re just along for the ride.”

Suguru smiled and nodded at you, his eyes shimmering with love and admiration for you.

“Yeah, exactly. That was when I realized,” Suguru said, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation, “that maybe it’s okay to not have everything figured out. Maybe it’s okay to just take things one day at a time and see where life takes me.”

As Suguru finished speaking, his words lingered in the air, carrying with them a sense of introspection and hope. You took a moment to absorb his sentiments, letting them sink in before offering your response.

"You’re right," you replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Life can be overwhelming when we try to plan every step of the way. Sometimes, it's about embracing the uncertainty and trusting that things will fall into place in their own time."

Suguru's eyes lit up with understanding, his smile widening at your words. "Exactly," he agreed, a sense of relief washing over him. "It's like...learning to dance in the rain instead of waiting for the storm to pass. Finding joy in the journey, even when the destination is unclear." He finished, chuckling to himself at his metaphor.

You couldn't help but smile at Suguru's metaphor, touched by the wisdom in his words. "I like that analogy," you admitted, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "It's a reminder to appreciate the beauty in life's unexpected moments, to find happiness in the midst of chaos."

The two of you sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of Suguru’s and your words hanging in the air between you. But eventually, Suguru spoke again, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, too,” he admitted, his gaze flicking nervously to meet yours. “About our friendship, and how much it means to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at Suguru’s words, a warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity in his voice. “I feel the same way, Suguru. You mean a lot to me, too.”

Suguru smiled, a genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Because, honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you, Y/n. You’ve been such an important part of my life, and I don’t ever want to lose that.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached out and took Suguru’s hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You won’t, Suguru. I promise.”

There was a warmth in your gaze, a kindness in your smile, that made Suguru's heart swell with emotion. In that moment, he knew that he had found someone truly special, someone he could share his deepest thoughts and feelings with without fear of judgment or rejection.

As the air crackled with anticipation, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment washing over you. Slowly leaning in closer to Suguru, the distance between you seemed to vanish, melting away in the warmth of your shared breath. His proximity sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you, each exhale drawing you nearer to him.

In that fleeting moment, the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Your lips hovered mere inches apart, the tantalizing promise of a kiss hanging between you like a delicate thread. The anticipation built to a fever pitch, your heart pounding in your chest as you teetered on the edge of something monumental.

Caught in the throes of desire, neither of you dared to move, the magnetic pull between you holding you captive in its grasp. The electricity in the air crackled with unrestrained passion, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing second.

In that suspended moment, it felt as though the entire universe had conspired to bring you together, binding you to each other in a dance as old as time itself. And as you stood on the precipice of possibility, you couldn't help but wonder what lay on the other side, yearning to bridge the final gap that separated you from Suguru's waiting lips.

”Y/n…” Suguru said, his voice barely above a whisper as he felt heat rise to his face from the closeness.

But just as the tension reached its peak, the sound of footsteps approaching shattered the spell, jolting you both back to reality. Startled, you pulled away from each other, turning to see Shoko and Hime emerging from the shadows with curious expressions on their faces.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shoko said with a mischievous grin, “but we couldn’t help but notice you two lost in your own little world over here.”

Hime nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, we thought we’d come over and see what all the fuss was about.”

Blushing furiously, you exchanged a sheepish glance with Suguru, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement at being caught in such a vulnerable moment. As Shoko and Hime joined you, the four of you fell into easy conversation, the interruption quickly forgotten as laughter filled the air.

Though the moment had been interrupted, the connection between you and Suguru remained palpable, lingering like an echo in the air.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, Suguru knew that there would be plenty of time for declarations of love and grand romantic gestures. For now, he was content to simply be in your presence, to bask in the warmth of your smile. His heart was still beating rapidly from the moment you two just shared not too long ago. Was it truly possible that you felt the same way about him as he did you? Or was all of that just simply due to the heat of the moment. The same question pondered in your own mind.

The both of you had no idea what the future held in store for the two of you, but one thing was certain: as long as you both had each other, you knew that everything would be okay…or at least you hope.

__________________

Taglist: (If you’d like to be added, just let me know with the username you’d like to be notified and Ill gladly get you added <3, again, thank you for all the support)

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partycatty · 3 months

Text

liu kang > not her

i wonder what liu kang would do if he chose you in the new era, but comes across his kitana when the timeline is in danger

warning: OW. liu kang is THE MOST tragic character in the entire franchise and i made sure you all see it too.

notes: take a shot every time i say "timeline" (you will die)

masterlist

• when liu kang created the new timeline, he was sure to lean you on the side of justice. you had never caught his eye before, but something about your... essence. it drew him in like no other. perhaps he was too enamored with kitana to not notice your own beauty. your ideals matched his and your conversations were endless if given the opportunity.

• falling in love is a hard thing to do when your life is infinite, but liu kang swore to be by your side until your body leaves the mortal realm. thankfully, you were edenian, so there was plenty of time to spend together.

• he would hold your hand as you two walked along the fire garden, but you noticed liu kang's eyes were... distant. his glowing eyes were noticeably dull as he seemed lost in thought.

• "my lord," you gently say, squeezing his hand. "is there something on your mind?"

• liu smiles down at you, a warmth filling his body at the use of his title. it sounded like honey dripping from your voice, at least to him.

• "your presence puts me at ease, my love," liu replies with an undertone of sadness. "but i am... worried. with titan shang tsung endangering the realms, a solution is lost to me. every force in this timeline would not stand a chance against him."

• "in this timeline," you trail off, trying to help. a mortal could only do so much to help a god. "the existence of a titan shang tsung implicates the existence of more possibilities, does it not?"

• liu kang stops walking, dropping your hand as he seems to process your suggestion.

• "how could i have not seen it sooner?" he asks, his tone wavering from his typical mannerism. "of course. there exists multiple timelines, one where each one of us is a titan. i could get their assistance..." he grins down at you. "i am not the only keeper of time in the universe. you are a genius, my dear."

• even still, his gaze is distant. the memories of his past life, before kronika, before being a revenant... they still ached deep within him. he had to say goodbye to all he knew for the betterment of the universe, and it's not something he prefers to talk about often. mourning a lost loved one is one thing, but losing eons worth of history in front of your eyes hurts far more than anything you could ever comprehend.

• he eagerly opens a portal to the hourglass, where you both step through arm in arm. he looks at you apologetically, releasing his grip on your arm and flourishing in front of the hourglass, the sand whirling behind the glass. he knew who to summon first. you step aside to give him room to work.

• kitana appears after being assembled by the sands of her time. she had the face of the outworld princess, but not the outfit. something about her felt different. this was the titan kitana. your jaw drops. panicked, she exclaims the name of the man before her, only glancing over at you, considering you two were not familiar in the previous timeline.

• "easy, kitana, you are among friends," liu kang reassures, holding his hands out to defuse her confusion. you're awestruck. "you're a long way from home, a different timeline to be precise."

• kitana can only ask more questions, wondering how exactly liu kang is a keeper of the hourglass like herself. her memories of kronika's disruption of time seem fuzzy.

• "the battle for the hourglass must have ripped apart time's fabric," you explain gently, not all too familiar with the incident but knowledgeable enough from the conversations you and liu would share in the gardens as his head rested on your lap, your fingers entangled in his hair.

• liu kang fills in the gaps, explaining everything necessary for her to understand. kitana turns to the hourglass, and then liu.

• "if many timelines sprung from one, and we were both part of it, then you are..." her voice breaks as she steps closer. "...you are my liu kang."

• your presence is completely ignored now as the realizations spawn in. liu kang stands, completely still as kitana assembles the puzzle pieces.

• "the same one that battled you in shang tsung's courtyard, who fought at your side at the koliseum," liu kang is now returning the gesture, stepping closer to the woman. you feel your stomach twist and turn. "who beamed with pride when you became outworld's kahn."

• she grabs his hand, squeezing the same way you do when you seek reassurance from your liu kang. your liu kang. your timeline. not hers. kitana leans into him, but liu kang steps back from the attempt at a kiss. he still holds her hand as a gesture of kindness, but twists his body to face you. you're pale, wringing your hands. the entire situation makes you uneasy. you wonder if your advice should have stayed in your throat.

• "and this is my (reader)," liu kang introduces you to her. "in our timeline, you two had only met briefly. now, she is by my side, just as you were." you feel a pang in your chest at his careful choice of words. never did he expect to see his kitana again, but he couldn't just drop everything to be with her. not when time itself is unstable. but even still, seeing her in the flesh now after being a mere memory for eons, he feels the undying urge to hold her close.

• kitana frowns, pulling away. "why does fate seem always to conspire against us?" she asks in a brokenhearted whisper, fists clenching and unclenching at the sight of you. "to deny us life's simple pleasures?"

• liu kang thinks back to before everything began. training alongside kung lao, taking in the wise words of raiden, and the little moments to be spared where he could hold onto kitana, for even just a moment. but now, he was forced to be the protector, to give raiden the life he should have had. the current kitana belongs to raiden now, just as liu kang once was. why he didn't keep her to himself, he'll never truly understand.

• "i don't know," he finally replies, eyes drinking in the sight of the woman he thought he'd lost forever. "perhaps, in one of the many timelines, they are ours."

• you honestly feel as if you could throw up at the sight. the man that dedicated his every moment to you was now deeply longing the touch of another. blaming him is something you can't even bring yourself to do, either. if you had lost it all, surely you would crave just one more taste of what could've been.

• the inner turmoil he's going through is evident on his expression. who to choose, if any? would the fate of the universe, and all timelines within it crumble should he choose titan kitana... his kitana? liu kang spins around to get a good look at you.

• "in this timeline, i choose to protect what i have," he says finally, stepping toward you and holding your hands in his. he analyzes every imperfection, every curve on your features. he seems... content. "i've seen everything i love be pulled from my grasp. never again."

• his words touch your heart, and you feel comforted knowing that he would not be whisked away from you as simply as that. however, despite his certainty, you cannot brush the observation that he misses what could've been aside. you were crafted by him, beautiful and charming, capturing his attention easily.

• but god, his kitana. she captured his heart eons ago, and liu kang isn't sure he could let go just yet.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #liu kang x reader #liu kang #i felt bad writing this im sorry

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nfr-girly · 3 months

Text

Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 1)

Bradley’s priority’s have always been the navy and his daughter, hope, but what happens when his daughter’s teacher comes into the mix?

a/n: literally never wrote a fic before let me know if it’s good

Ever since Bradley and his ex had split up, he had been his daughter’s main guardian. He doesn’t really speak to his ex, and he doesn’t want to. Balancing being a dad and the navy wasn’t easy, so when the time came for Hope to go to pre-school, he couldn’t complain.

“Hey have you got your bag?” Brad asked

“Yes!!”

“And did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course I’m not like you” she rolled her eyes jokingly, to which he smiled at

He strapped her in her seat and pulled out of the drive. Brad was feeling all types of emotions, relief that he could spend some more time in the navy while she learns, sad that she’s growing up, also happy for her to make friends. He didn’t like feeling emotions. He never thought it ended well, and in his case it never had.

Pulling into the car park of the school, he stops for a minute. The school is a good size; he sees kids running around, parents talking to each other. He feels a sense of hope that she’ll be okay, but the other half is telling him to take her back home.

“Daddy are we going in??” Hope asks, the gap where her tooth was showing clear, she sits cuddling her bear.

“Oh yeah honey sorry” he gets out and unstraps her out her seat; they walk hand in hand towards the school.

Walking along he feels some eyes on him, at first he thinks maybe they’re judging him, or worst, hope. But as he glances he realises some of the mums are checking him out. He looks away quickly, he had decided to wear a very tight shirt today.

He walked into classroom 2b, which was what classroom hope was apparently in. He looks around and sees the back of who he guesses is the teacher. He waits till she’s done talking to a student.

But as soon as she turned around, Bradley had completely zoned out everything around him but you. As you notice him, you give him a smile and start walking towards him. If he didn’t feel nervous already, he absolutely did now.

“Hi!! Im Miss L/N!! I assume you are hope?” You kneel down to match hopes height, while Bradley’s eyes are still on you. He would’ve thought he had landed in heaven seeing you.

“Yes!! This is my daddy!!!” Hope says, tugging at Bradley’s shirt. He snaps out of his trance as you get up again, trying to understand what just happened

your POV

Being in the presence of Hopes father could be classed as its own national holiday, because being able to meet a man that gorgeous should be celebrated.

“Hi! My names Miss L/N, but you can just call me Y/N” I whisper the last part

“Hi.. Im uh- im hopes dad, but my names Bradley” he says as he shakes my hand. I don’t even know if I can think the things I’m thinking about a students dad, but who gives a shit.

“Nice to meet you Bradley, I just know hope will have a great time here!” I smile at him, which he grins back at.

“Yeah I hope. She’s feeling excited so it should be alright. so uh I gotta get going now, but pick ups at 3:15 right?”

“Yeah!” I reply; feeling sudden disappointment from him having to leave

“Hey honey I’ll be back soon okay?” He has a little conversation with his daughter, I notice a lot of features they share, same nose, same eyes. It makes my heart fill with warmth even more

He gives her a peck on the cheek before getting up.

“Well I’ll uh, pick her up at 3:15 then” he says

“Yeah um see you then” I smile

He smiles back before turning around and heading out the door.

“So hope let’s get you to your desk and meet your classmates okay!” I say

“Okay!” She smiles as we walk towards the classroom. She talks about her teddy bear, and how she named him Rooster, I assume maybe she likes roosters? Half of the conversation I may have been thinking back to her dad. God, why is 3:15 so far away?

————————————————————————

#rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #top gun maverick

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thelastofhyde · 3 months

Text

ii. santorini.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. tensions are high as you and joel spend your first day together exploring the popular island of santorini. back on the boat, joel gets a glimpse at more than he bargained for. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, no apocalypse au, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, tour-guide!joel, unspecified age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. mild smut ( female masturbation, mentions of oral sex + piv sex ), bickering, alcohol, mild angst, so much cheese it'll turn you lactose intolerant!! btw joel hates santorini and he makes that known, but none of his opinions reflect my own ( please don't be mean to me over things characters say <33 ) word count. 7.9k hyde’s input. the majority of this chapter was written with a mixture of medicine flowing through my veins, it's a miracle it's even intelligible. apologies for the wait, the holidays and health issues got in the way <3 as always, i hope you enjoy, comments an dreblogs are always appreciated !! previous chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

It is a known fact that your name and late rarely exist within the same sentence.

The mere thought of being late fills you with a sickness you cannot cure. The extremes you’ll go to avoid it know no bounds. From arriving four hours before a flight, to waiting in your car a whole hour before entering a lecture hall, adulthood is a phase in which you’d sworn to repair the damage of a childhood worth of not arriving late.

Late to school, late to birthday parties, late to dentist appointments.

It wasn’t that you were a particularly difficult child, running rampant around the house as your mother tried to dress you, or your father tried to feed you. Quite the contrary, really. Often, it was little-you who chased around after them, and who waited by the door, school bag in hand, tapping your foot with every second that ticked by on the clock. You were too young and hadn’t the ability nor the empathy to understand that your parents were held up with sorting through things directly influenced by your existence, like cleaning up the messes you left at the breakfast table, or fixing the doorknob you and your sister broke in an intense game of hide and seek.

Nowadays, you can count on one hand the times you’ve been late.

First, you were late to your own surprise birthday party, but that was down to you getting stuck an extra hour at work. It was out of your control.

Then, there’d been your graduation ceremony. Your father missed an exit and ended up taking you on a mystery tour of the city, trying to find the next turn that led to your campus. Again, out of your control.

The third time is the one you remember panicking over the most, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves as you sat squeezed between two strangers on a plane. Your sister, barely halfway through her third trimester, had gone into labour, and where were you? Stumbling around drunk on a private beach in Cancún, mumbling along to the lyrics of some early 2000s classic you forget the name of. Your niece, all 4 and a half pounds of her, had decided now was her time to shine and there was nothing, not even the 4 weeks she had yet to grow in utero, that was going to stop her. By the time you arrived, mascara smudged eyes and with the stench of tequila still on your skin, she was laying peacefully in her incubator, the tiniest little fingers clenched into fists and a name tag around her wrist. This too was out of your control.

But the fourth time you’re late, as you stride urgently across the wooden decking of the ship, weaving in and out of lounge chairs and polo-neck wearing crew members, it’s completely within your control.

Yet, it’s not entirely your fault.

An alarm that never went off. A game of hide-and-seek with your purse. An unfortunate slip on bathroom tiles adding another bruise to your knees. An elevator that refused to travel faster than the speed of a snail. It’s as though Lady Luck had set out in favour of being against you, doing her utmost to ensure you arrive exactly seven minutes past your deadline. His deadline.

Best be on the deck by 7 am, darlin’, or I’m dockin’ without ya.

Your head whips from one side to another, eyes finding a familiar figure amongst the few passengers meeting their own private guides. It’s the same man from yesterday, out on the balcony, the memory of him cheering his champagne and shooting a tipsy smile your way replaying. Only now he’s clad in plaid, with a frown etched into his forehead as he stares at his watch. There’s another man, hanging off his arm, fusing with the collar of his shirt.

“She’s late,” you overhear him say, voice firm and leaking with annoyance.

“Maybe she just slept in!” The man next to him is cheerier, tired eyes full of optimism, even as he turns his head and stifles a yawn. “Give her a few minutes.”

“What kind of shitty tour guide sleeps in?” Balcony-Man huffs, and you can’t help but think of your niece and her pouty face whenever she fails to get her own way. “Does she think I’d not rather be asleep too? Lazy c-”

“See? This is why I told you to eat that damn croissant before we left.” The taller of them seems to snap, rolling his eyes. “Brighten up, Bill, or so help me God you’ll be leaving this boat a divorcee.”

Trying to tune their voices out, as the guilt of prying crawls its way into your bones, your gaze points down at your feet. The very same heels you’d worn last night, pretty as they may leave you, have you cursing at the Sun and the Moon. If you’d have just worn your sneakers, maybe you could have ran up the stairs instead of taking the snail-evator.

Joel, tour guide, Signore Miller’s voice- though your imagination can’t quite reach his level of arrogance- rears its irritating head through your mind, recalling his words from last night. Wear somethin’ a little more… practical. That had been enough to awaken that stubborn mule inside of you, hell-bent on proving him wrong.

But now, late, and with him nowhere in sight, your heels seem to have had the opposite effect. They’ve proved him right.

Which leaves you here, moping so pathetically you’re incapable of appreciating the shine of a rising sun over the horizon of aqua blue water.

Five minutes, you decide. That’s how long you’ll allow yourself to dwell in self-pity. Then, you’ll trek your way over to the Excelsior lounge, hit up the breakfast buffet, and await the general disembarking time.

Who knows, maybe you’ll get a call to say there’s a miraculous spot opened up on one of the tour groups.

If not, you’ll be fine! You’ve travelled alone before, you’ve got an all-inclusive data plan on your phone and you’re pretty well-acquainted with the less-than-accommodating features of Google Maps. You don’t need help, or a tour guide, much less one as blood-boiling, skin-prickling, irritating as Joel Mil-

“Wasn’t sure how ya like your coffee, but you look like a milk, two sugars kind of girl to me.”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Or, in this case, think of him.

Turning a little too fast, you stumble a step or two back, and, sure enough, there he is. A tight fitting, dark grey t-shirt stretched over the swell of his biceps, a pair of washed-out denims, and two well-worn running shoes, one on each foot. Trailing up the swell of his tanned neck, you count the freckles up to his eyes, and find there’s bags under them. The growth of hair on his face is just as unkempt as yesterday, yet already it seems to have grown longer, making the litter of greys stand out more. The hair that sits atop his head is damp, and the strands that have managed to dry are being messed around by the morning air. He’s still got that ever-present frown stamped into his forehead, yet his mouth doesn’t seem to curl into a snarl as he calls your name.

You must stare a moment or two past his comfort level, for he clears his throat and nods down at his hand. Two to-go cups, the smallest streams of steam floating out the hole in each lid.

He’s extending one out- the one in his right hand- towards you. “If you’d rather black, you can take min-”

“No!” You snap back into your own body, all too quickly and all too volatile. Clear your throat, and then try again, this time with a little less of that im being held at gunpoint shake in your voice. “No… Thank you. It’s fine- Milk is fine.”

It’s more than fine.

In fact, he’s gotten it spot on. Down to the number of sugars you take.

But, still stubborn, you yearn to not give him the satisfaction of being right so early in the day, and instead settle for accepting the coffee out his hand. You welcome the golden warmth eagerly, eyes unable to resist slipping shut as you take your first sip. When they reopen, you find Joel watching you, intently. Purposefully, as though you’re something to be studied.

Clearing your throat, you glance to the side and spot Balcony-Man and his partner greeting an apologetic woman.

“Thanks for the, uh,” his stare is intimidating your nerves, setting you on edge of something you’re all to eager to jump off. “Coffee. Yeah. You didn’t have to… I mean, I actually thought you’d, you know, uh-”

“You thought I left without ya.” He states. All you can do is nod. “I could’ve. I did warn you not to be late.”

“You did.”

“I also told you to wear somethin’ other than them heels.”

“I know.”

“Yet here you are, late and in heels. You’re not very good at following orders.” He exhales something akin to a chuckle, as devoid of humour as it may be, and you swear he’s suddenly closer than you remember, knuckles brushing against your own as he bumps his paper cup against yours. “Just what am I gonna do with ya, huh?”

For a moment, you swear your heart has leaped from your chest and up to your throat, threatening to choke you with the beat of it. There’s no sense you can make of it, this reaction he rouses, a heat you can’t control creeping down your loins as you drag in a whiff of some manly cologne, the kind you’d usually turn your nose up at for being too overbearing. Yet, on him, it’s not. On him it’s just right, like he was born with pine soaked skin, and a tobacco stained kiss, and-

Before you can think of pulling in another breath, Joel’s stepped back, allowing a cool breeze to pass between you and get a hold of your senses.

“C’mon, we’re slotted in for the first tender that leaves for shore.”

“Oh my God.”

You’re half certain Joel’s growing sick of hearing those three words roll off your tongue. He’s likely felt this way since it first left your mouth, feet struggling to safely step out onto the dock as your mind became enchanted by the picturesque view in front of you. Only the burn of his hand meeting your lower back, nudging you ahead to make space for himself and the other passengers to step off the tender boat, was capable of dragging you back into your own body, the wanderlust that had gripped your soul yearning to be free to explore every building that sits carved into rock, every water-taxi that flows idly on cristaline water, every step that winds up and up and up the island’s cliff where, at the top, civilisation seems to lie.

The port you’ve docked on is rather small, with naught more than two docking strips and a walkway of shops and confection stands, with boats that find no space along the docking strips tying themselves to any safety they may find over the expanse of the walkway. It is no wonder the cruise floats safely out in deeper waters, alongside several other cruise lines, with no space for such large vessels. And, yet, the port is alive with something. The ground seems to pulse, like a beat of a heart, and the air, as fresh as the grass after heavy rainfall, almost dances its way down your lungs. Voices swim all around you, tourists scrambling past each other, fighting in a race towards something you’ve yet to identify.

“So this is Gialos, also known as the Old Port of Fira.” Somewhere, behind you perhaps, Joel’s voice pipes up, a speech so rehearsed and robotic, a part of your wonders how many times he’s recited it, how many people he’s recited it to. The other part of you, however, is much too fixated on the stairs ahead to pay him true attention, eyes following as two men and several donkeys descend. “That, up there, is Fira, the capital of Santorini. We’re going to need to take a cable- Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes!” You’re quick to react, a defensive rise in your voice. He meets it with a deadpan look and the crossing of his arms over his chest, which quickly becomes something you wish he wouldn’t do as you watch the tight fabric of his shirt stretch itself thin over the bulge of his arms. “No. Sorry, I’m just… Wow.”

You hope he appreciates the restraint you show towards repeating those three dreaded words again.

“You have all day to stare,” his words trip over his own irritated scoff, and you bite back a question of why he’s a guide if he seems to hate it so much, fearful he’s too honest to not tell you a truth that may hurt your fragile feelings. A truth where it is not so much his job he dislikes, but rather, your presence and all that it brings. “Right now, we need to move. Don’t wanna spend all day waitin’ in line now, do ya?”

This need for speed that hooks the other tourists seems to filter over into your guide, who’s forcing you forward, that heat of his palm now hovering inches away from your lower back. It’s enough to lead you where he pleases. As a pair, you weave in and out small clusters of people, till the space between you both and the large gathering crowd slowly diminishes. It is there where his once telepathic leading fails, with Joel turning left towards it as you stray right, over to the ascending pathway of stairs.

“Where are you going?” His tone is offended, almost, as he comes to a halt and watches you fail to do the same, to notice the space between you both and correct it like some puppy who’s been called to heel by its master.

“Where am I going?” The question, at first, is one you mistake as rhetorical. Staring back at him with an equaled confusion, you gesture to the stairway, as though it is the most obvious answer. Because, well, where else could you have been heading? He said so himself, that up there is Fira, the capital of Santorini, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get to see it. “Where are you going?”

“To the cable cars, that’ll take us up the island.”

Above the crowd of people, hanging over doors of small businesses, lay several signs. CABLE CARS - 6€ ! stands out, impossible to miss. Symbols you scarcely recognise sit beneath it, in smaller text, and you assume it’s Greek. In the distance, you spy the movement of the mobile boxes, people being carted up the length of the cliff at a speed that promises them a journey of mere minutes.

“Oh.” So, perhaps his option makes more sense than your own far longer, more tiring one. Still, stubborn as a mule, you double down on your decision to take the scenic route, inching closer towards the first step. Your guide, still in the face, refuses to move, daring eyes willing you to continue. “You want us to take the lazy man’s route? You go ahead, I’ll take the stairs and meet you at the top.”

You press one foot up onto the first step, weary of where you rest the point of your heel.

Glancing a few steps further up, there’s the unmistakable sight of a mound of brown substance, no doubt excreted out of one of the donkeys that walk ahead, tourists mounted on their poor backs.

“I don’t think you understand,” he finally inches closer, if only slightly, hands clenched at his side. “There’s five hundred and eighty-eight steps until you reach the top.”

The number is more daunting than you expect, and you pray he can’t read this on your face. “Only? I’ll be up in no time then!”

You feel more than see the way Joel’s eyes travel down the expanse of you, stuttering almost over the curvature of your chest, the dips at your hips, till they rest at your feet. The question hangs loose between you, unspoken yet evident.

In those heels?

“Listen, Joel,” taking a second, third, and fourth step, you aim for a literal higher ground, staring down below as he continues to drift closer and closer towards the stairway. “If you’re not fit for the task, or the climb’s no good for your knees, you can just say it, there’s no shame. Like I said, I’ll meet you at the top. Promise I won’t even report the fact my private guide abandoned me in favour of his own comfort.”

Defeat has never come easy.

Well, to phrase it better towards the truth, acceptance of defeat has never come easy.

There was always something more to be said, another excuse to be given for any of your shortcomings. When you’d been turned away from the school’s soccer team, you’d told yourself it was because you were a girl- ignoring the fact three girls in your year made the cut. When you’d lost an arduous game of Monopoly, you’d sworn you’d caught your sister sneaking notes out of the banker’s pile into her own. When you’d been beaten, round after round, by your own niece at Mario Kart, you’d stuck your tongue out at her and told her you let her win out of pity.

All that had been before, of course, back when you still roamed school hallways, when your sister sat across from you at the dining table, when your niece still laughed freely, wildly, celebrating her own victories with an over-the-top, uncoordinated dance around the living room.

As changed as things may be, defeat is still your foe.

It is that reason alone that you bite back a complaint.

You’d enjoyed the initial moments of your trek. Maybe it was the salty air in your lungs, or the beautiful views of your surroundings, or the idle grumbling coming from Joel, a few paces behind you, kicking up dirt under his feet with every step he travelled up. Whatever the reason, adrenaline had been flowing, into your heart and through your veins, covering every square inch of your body, a tingling of nerves from the tip of your toes to the top of your spine.

But, by the 10 minute mark, a dull ache forms in your feet. Each step of your heel feels more life threatening than the last, as the stairs grow slippier, dustier, and well-worn the further up you advanced. By stair who-knows-how-may, you take a near fatal tumble backwards, the crunch of crumbling rock threatening to be the last thing you hear. Till he appears behind you, fast as light, huffing out a breath as you smack down against his solid chest.

“Mind your step.” From anyone else, you would mistake it as a sign of care. From Joel, you know better than to think it’s anything beyond a humourless taunt.

You try to keep count of the steps, from then on, an effort to motivate yourself to move faster with each ten-pace you count. By 50, you lose your place and begin counting all over again.

The journey is difficult in other ways, too, with the constant passing of donkeys who obligate you to stand aside and make way for them. And the distant movement of cable cars, firing up and sliding down more times than you can keep track of.

When a particular step proves itself too steep, you can no longer hold back and, finally, a hiss slips out between your clenched teeth as pain shoots up your ankle, the leather of your shoe rubbing even harder into your brittle skin, threatening the promise of a blister yet to fully swell. Pushing the pain down, alongside a complaint, you take another step. Hiss. Then another, hiss. You can fight it no longer, bending at the waist to slip off your heel and examine the irritated skin.

Sure enough, it’s been rubbed raw, broken and spilling a small pool of blood.

Behind you comes an exasperated groan and, before you can straighten yourself to even register what’s happening, Joel barges past you and the figure of him up ahead slowly diminishes the faster he climbs up hill.

“Hey!” You call after him, hobbling to slip your shoe back on, but it’s to no avail.

He’s long gone, growing further and further out of your reach with each passing minute.

Cursing him under your breath, you decide to hell with the no complaints of his preferred regard for his own comfort. He’s abandoned you, injured and hobbling up the steps, all because he has the patience of a toddler who’s been waiting far too long to go potty.

“Wear somethin’ a little more sensible…” You’re bound to seem deranged to any passers by, half hopping up the steps, mumbling to yourself in a mockery of his deep voice “Yeah, right, how bout I shove somethin’ a little more sensible up your ass. Oh, what’s that? There’s no room up there with the massive stick you’re already carryin-”

“A local man warned me bout ya, on my way back down. Said there was some no-good girl casting out bad juju.” You freeze, foot stopped in mid-air. Shifting your gaze up ahead, you find Joel there, skipping a step every so often as he grows closer and closer. At his side, dangling from two fingers, sits a plastic bag. “Told him it ain’t no juju or curses you’re casting, just throwin’ a little tantrum.”

Like a fish out of water, all you can do is stare at him, wide eyes and mouth agape.

Joel pays your silence no mind, almost delighting in it. With a pop and a crack from his knees, he crouches down before you, holding out the palm of his hand.

“C’mon,” he mutters, pointing towards your injured foot. “Lemme see.”

You’re hesitant, at first, but ultimately lift it and let him curl his grip around it, holding you in place as the shoe slips off you. A tut meets your ears as his eyes meet the bloodied mess, and you watch how he contemplates, for a moment or two, before wetting his thumb with his tongue and swiping it over your broken skin.

It stings, like salt in a wound or a bee’s stinger through skin, and you try to flinch back, retract yourself from his hold. But Joel’s strong, resilient, nails biting at the flesh of your ankle to keep you in place. His free hand digs into the plastic bag he’d discarded at his side and pulls out a white box. Fiddling with it for a short period, he manages to open it at last and slips out a bandaid. He rips that open a lot quicker, using his teeth, and slips it over your open wound perfectly, thumb and pointer finger smoothing it around the curve of your heel.

“D’ya see now why I told you to not wear those things?” You feel like a child at his words, reprimanded like you once were for touching your mother’s curling iron. “And why I said we should take the cable car?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refuse to meet his eyes. But he just won’t let you be, craning his own neck to infiltrate the space you stare off into. There’s a pleased look on his face, smugness pulling at the right corner of his mouth. Alarmingly, you think of how it’s the closest you’ve gotten to seeing him smile.

You continue your pursuit of silence, repeating a mantra of how you don’t care that he’d tried to look out for your comfort, or how he’d then tried to save you the effort of an uphill battle, or how his hand, big and warm and rough at the fingertips, is still holding your foot in place, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle in a circular motion.

“Look at ya, gone all quiet on me,” that corner of his lip curls higher. You register the rustling of the bag, his hand digging back inside it. “Ain’t one for bein’ put in your place, are you?”

Out comes his hand once more, though this time it’s not a box of bandaids. Now, resting firm in his grasp, sits a mixture of navy blue dyed cotton, stitched atop a flat, thick layer of a straw-like material. A slip-on canvas shoe. Joel doesn’t await permission, nor does he even ask for it. He simply takes charge, slipping it onto your foot, mindful as he straightens out the back to lay against your heel.

“Other foot, up.”

Switching feet, you stumble as your weight completely shifts onto your injured side. Your hands, reaching out to stabilise your swaying body, are quickly directed by his own to rest atop his head, curls of brown threading between your fingers. You contemplate asking what products he uses to achieve locks so smooth and shiny, then rethink it as soon as you imagine his reply of a disinterested grunt and a snarky ain’t use anythin’ but dirt water and a splash o’ whiskey.

“How’s it feel?”

Soft, you almost reply, then realise he’s asking about the shoe.

With a wiggle of your toes, you tell him it’s fine, and leave it at that. He doesn’t need to know they’re surprisingly comfortable.

Joel rises with a bit of a struggle, yet refuses the help you offer. Rough hands scoop up your discarded heels, tossing them into the bag, and then he straightens his back, lets out a noise of discomfort, before nodding up ahead.

“C’mon, only got a hundred or so to go. We’ll be up in no time.”

The sun sits high in the sky when you reach the city of Fira.

Crossing over that last step, 588 painted in white across it, you huff out a sigh, exhaustion aching you out of any enjoyment of your victory over the stairway from hell. Before you can even utter a word of your thirst, Joel is already reaching into his bag of wonders, unscrewing the lid off a bottle of water and passing it to you. Grateful, you take a sip, and lament the few drops that spill down your chin.

At least they don’t go to complete waste, cooling your skin ever so slightly.

It’s a shame to see Joel start moving again, moments before you’re even ready to gain back your breath, but you follow after him, nonetheless, mindful to not press your foot too hard down. Through streets he winds, past shopkeepers he walks. Eventually, after a few minutes, you ask him where you’re both heading.

“To catch a coach,” his hand moves quickly, tugging you closer as a bicycle shoots past behind you. Your own find themselves against his chest, and realise it is nothing like his hair. Solid, warm, wide. It’s almost a shame to lower them back down to your side. “Less you think you can walk from here to Oia, too.”

Truth be told, you don’t know where Oia is.

But you do know your walking for the day is over, happy to follow Joel onto the coach. You take the aisle seat, he’s by the window. Across from you both sits a couple, young and giggling into one another’s ears, as though the sounds of their joy is sacred to none but them. A pang of envy thumps your soul, and you quickly turn your face.

Only to find that Joel’s is grey.

Not the hair that lines it but, rather, his whole face, paled and blood-drained. It’s a sickly image, and one that’s quick to get your heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Any thought of keeping your composure becomes mute as you hear your own voice, a treacherous shake to it that gives your panic away. “You look…” There is no word kind enough for you to use to relay the image of him, so you lock your lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to get a reply, as your hand moves up to feel his forehead. It’s sweaty, warm, and you move to pull your hand back when he’s holding it firm in place, eyes slipping shut. “‘S cold. You’re cold,” seems to be his explanation. “I’m fine, it’s just- Carsick.”

“You get carsick, yet you work on a cruise.”

“Not the same. Ship’s big, somethin’ bout the size and my own visibility, ‘s what stops me getting seasick.”

You sit like that the rest of the coach, your hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes slipped shut.

“What’s your favourite stop on the cruise?”

As it turns out, Oia is exactly what you’d pictured Santorini to be.

White washed houses, deep blue domes for rooftops, turquoise waters, all for as far as the eye can see. Joel complains, more than tells you, of the rise in tourism over the years, of how it’s turned the beautiful village into a party-town for idiots abroad, disregarding the clean environment, shamelessly blocking paths to snap a frame-worthy shot, raising prices to the ceiling. When you ask him if he thinks he’s in part to blame, if people like him are to blame- running tours, bringing guests onto the island, earning a wage off the visiting of such a place- he grumbles out something about missing breakfast, needing lunch.

So you find a cafe. Or, more, Joel leads you to one. He greets the doorman, with a wave and a pat on the back, before sauntering his way through to a back terrace, overlooking the whole village, the water perfectly framing it. Stepping out and sitting down, the view robs the very breath out of your lungs.

It’s like sitting inside a postcard.

Joel asks if you like Greek food.

You tell him you’ve never had it.

He orders for you both, a mixture of different plates, and swears he’ll find something you’ll like.

It turns out you’re rather fond of baklava.

“Florence.” Joel’s taken his time to answer, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. Disbelief more than fear in his eyes, you have to wonder if it’s the first time someone’s thought to ask him, in all his years as a guide. Naturally, this leads you to wondering how many years that is. “It’s a real site. Full of history, a real story to be told.” He tilts a ceramic dish your way, eyes glancing down in an offering. You follow them, and spot olives. Shake your head, no, then smile, thanks. He shrugs, more for me, and pops two into his mouth. “There’s this…” he pauses to chew. “This library.”

“A library?”

“‘S not just a library.” He slips out the olive’s pip and raises another into his mouth. You try not to think about how thick his fingers look, rolling the remaining briny green pebbles around in the pot. “There’s a cinema built inside it. Plays some classic films. I always- or, I try to go whenever we dock.”

It’s hard to picture Joel inside a cinema, something about the setting too busy, too loud to place his scowling face in. Would he be the kind to have a favourite seat, perfectly picked to optimise the sound quality? Does he speak animatedly, excited any time he recognises an actor? Or is he a shusher, the kind to roll his eyes when someone dares to even clear their throat?

A part of you wants to ask him if your tour involves a trip to this library.

Something tells you it’s not a place he likes to share, though. It’s his own little corner, safe to sneak a moment of selfish indulgence amidst a week of catering to another’s needs.

“A cinema inside a library?” A waiter interrupts you, asks if everything’s alright. Joel orders another serving of baklava. “Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“Yeah.” For a moment, you think you see a smile creep across his lips. “Suppose it is.”

Another interruption comes in the form of your ringtone, rippling the water in your glass as your phone vibrates upon the table. You’re well aware of how Joel spots the word Mum displayed across your screen. Just like you’re aware he sees how you swipe down on your screen and switch on aeroplane mode.

Before he can ask any questions, or the sudden silence can become too deafening, you throw out another question. “And your least favourite?”

“Least favourite stop?” You nod, affirmative, and he needs no time to reply. “Here.”

“Here?! How come?”

The baklava arrives, as if on cue, and you point down at it, as though it is reason enough to be enamoured with the island. It seems to do little to convince him, his hand reaching out to push the plate closer to you, inviting you to indulge yourself.

“Compared to the other stops, Santorini’s bland.” He says it when your mouth is too occupied to protest, stuffed full with layer after layer of pastry. “Kind of like a diamond, y’know? Real pretty to look at, empties your wallet, and, at the end of the day, ain’t much you can do with it.”

“People propose with diamonds.” You point out, and cough as a flake of pastry hits the back of your throat.

Joel’s already passing you your glass of water before you even think to reach for it.

“People propose with rings. Diamonds are just custom, not a guarantee.”

Sunset arrives with no warning, a hue of fiery orange melting down into the calm waters on the horizon. It’s Joel who makes the call to head back, one glance at his watch enough to tell you the last chance to catch a coach is nigh. It’s only as you go to call for the bill that he tells you it’s covered and you realise his earlier trip to the bathroom had been a ruse to go pay.

The trip back is calmer, quieter, with the coach full of sunkissed and heat exhausted tourists.

Again, you take the aisle seat, and Joel, the window.

Keeping an eye on him is easy, switching your gaze towards the approaching darkness of the night sky calling upon the street lights anytime he meets your eyes. When you notice the increase in breaths and the paling of his skin, you wordlessly unscrew the cap off a bottle and slot it into his hand, inviting him to finish off the last sips of your water.

Skipping out on a trip down memory stairway, you quietly follow him into the cable car and, when you reach the Old Port, you try your best to block out his smug remark of how easy and fast the ride was. A feat which becomes easier as you stumble halfway up the dock and turn back.

Like hours before, as you first stepped off the tender, your mouth falls agape. Only, this time, wider. The view of the island lit up in all its glory is enough to leave you breathless, hands scrambling to fish out your phone, open the camera and-

“You gettin’ on or what?” Joel calls out from behind, and you find him waiting on board one of the tenders, hand held out towards you.

It’s a demand, more than it is an offer, to hurry up. The collective of other passengers are watching the interaction, and a feeling you’ve come to know all too well crawls its way into your veins.

A burden, holding them all up, that’s what you are.

The feeling follows you back, as you slip into a damp seat and watch as the boat carries you further and further from the island, it’s lights twinkling in a way that chokes you up, drains you out, eyes stinging from more than just the salty air. You’ll love it, I swear! The memory plays out in your head, those words gushed at you. Hands squeezing your cheeks, a smile blinding you under its brightness. Just wait till you see it at night, the lights shine over it like stars!

You blink.

A tear pools at the corner of your eye.

“Here, look,” something nudges you. It’s Joel, inching his phone into your view. Through blurred sight, you glance at it. And find yourself, centre frame, lit only by the moon. In the back lies the whole skyline of Santorini, lights reflecting down onto the waters below. “Best view you can get, the whole island in one shot.”

Afraid to hear your own voice, you smile.

He answers by pointing his phone back at you, snapping another photo.

Back on the cruise, the two of you part ways, with Joel telling you to meet him in the same bar, same time as the night before.

Dinner had been part of your plans. With a glance over the listed restaurants on board, the ache in your tired bones asks you to stay in bed and make use of the room service. You listen, order something light, easy. It arrives in under 10 minutes and your hunger is satisfied sitting out on the balcony, watching the dark waves roll past.

Phoning your mother is the next port o'call.

Unlike with your food, that takes longer than 10 minutes. Much longer, and involves you countlessly reassuring her that yes, you’re okay, and no, you don’t need her to fly out and meet you in Naples.

“I’m a big girl,” you even throw in a laugh, hoping it’ll ease the worry lines you can picture splayed over your mother’s face. “I think I can climb up a mountain without my mum’s help.”

“Honey, you know that’s not what why I’m worri-”

“Did you know you can get carsick but, at the same time, not seasick?”

You hang up shortly after, with a promise to try your best to answer when she calls tomorrow, instead of hours later, when she should be fast asleep.

The time on your phone tells you there’s still forty minutes until you need to meet Joel. The image of that grandiose bathtub flashes before your eyes and, in record timing, you’re sinking into scalding waters, a complimentary bath bomb dumped in and granting you the childish gift of bubbles.

You try to relax, at first.

There’s no need to wet your hair, so you indulge yourself. Lay your head back, close your eyes. Feel your muscles loosen with the warmth, ignore the sting of soap in your blistering heel. Your hands struggle to find a resting place, until they meet your thighs. They sit still, for a moment or two, before one slips down, inching into the crease of where your legs meet.

Something stirs in your core, comes alive as you think of how long it’s been since you last felt someone. A few months, it has to be. A fellow graduate, if you remember correctly, that stupid robe still on his shoulders as he let his mouth come down on you.

Your hand is soon on your core, before you really notice, mind on a mission to recall the hazy encounter. When you think of his tongue, messy yet eager, your finger’s already on your clit, pressing against it with a tease of pleasure. When you think of his cock, uncut and thicker than your ex, splitting you open on his bedroom floor, your hips cant up against yourself, chasing friction. When you rewind how soft Joel’s hair had been between your fingers, your free hand grips one of your breasts, fingers pinching at your nipple.

Your eyes snap open.

Joel’s hair.

Joel.

Something you should not be thinking of right now, hand buried between your thighs.

You wait a few seconds, remind yourself of the graduate’s face.

His blue eyes, your fingers roll over your nipple.

His blonde hair, your legs spread wider.

Joel’s solid chest, your fingers dip inside your cunt.

Your breath is shaky, Joel’s annoyed groan echoes.

The shame of it, of thinking of him, is almost as tantalising as touching yourself, fucking your own hole full with as much of your fingers the angle will allow. It’s a one time thing, you justify. You just need to get it out your system. One and done, cum and done. No more of Joel Miller between your thighs, this is the closest he’ll get.

Someone knocks at your door.

You nearly miss it over the sound of your breathing, the pounding of your heart.

“Who is it?” You don’t like how weak you sound, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Another knock.

“Can I come in?”

A hand still between your thighs, orgasm titering on the edge, body fully submerged in lukewarm water. “No!”

“Ain’t safe to leave your door unlocked. Anybody could walk in- Jesus!”

You’ve never screamed louder.

Joel takes up most of the bathroom doorway, same clothes save for the shirt that’s got two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. You’re pressed right back into the bathtub, as physically far from him as you can get, knees pressed up to your chest, ankles crossed over.

In Joel’s defence, he’s quick to turn away, presenting you with a view of his back. A hand runs through his hair.

“Why are you in my room?!” You inch even further back, the water suddenly dropping several degrees.

“I asked to come in!”

“And I told you not to!”

“Well obviously I didn’t hear that!”

“Why are you in my room?” You’re back to your first question, eyeing up your towel.

It’s across the room, on the bathroom sink. No way for you to reach it without the risk of him seeing you reflected on something.

“You were late. Came to check if ya tripped on them heels and broke your neck.”

“I,” you’re not sure what time it is with your phone sitting by the bed, charging. That's now five times you've been late in adulthood. “Didn’t realise the time. I can meet you at the bar in ten minutes.”

He nods, and you watch him take a step, then immediately pause. “You know, I’ve heard a few things from passengers…” You may not see his face, but you swear there’s that half-smirk, smug look upon it. It’s practically dripping off his words. “The shower head, fourth setting. Seems to get the job done for most ladies on board.”

Grabbing the closest thing in reach- a bar of soap- you launch it and watch it bounce off his irritatingly wide shoulders. “Get OUT!”

You make it to the Tipsy Byson in 15 minutes.

Dressed more appropriately than the night before, your flared jeans and crop top garner less stares. It’s just as busy, if not busier, yet it’s not hard to spot Joel on a barstool, nursing a glass of something syrupy looking. Behind the bar is Luke, head thrown back at something Joel says.

They’re an interesting pair to observe, you realise as you make your way over. With Luke, so tall, so lanky, so bright-face, his energy warm and inviting, and Joel so- well, Joel.

“There she is,” Luke cheers, a little too loudly, calling attention to you as you slip into the stool next to Joel. “My new favourite customer.”

“Thought I was your favourite,” Joel’s yet to look at you, and it’s a relief. He’s looked at you enough for one day, one week, one lifetime.

“Sorry but she smells better than you, Joel,” the barman winks at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “ Plus, she’s a hell of a lot nicer to look at.”

Joel scoffs, you giggle.

“Not sure about the whole smelling better thing,” your response comes minutes later, after Luke’s already served you a glass of wine and turned away your cash, telling you he’ll put it on Joel’s tab. “But thanks!”

Unprompted and uninvited, Luke bends over the bar and takes an exaggerated sniff. “I don’t know, smell alright to me.”

“Really? I’m not even wearing perfume, I forgot to pack any-.”

“Yeah! Go on Joel, give her a whiff, tell her she smells fine!” There’s resistance on his end, but Luke’s adamant, hand clamped on the back of Joel’s head, shoving him face first into your neck. Joel’s nose brushes against you. You hear him inhale. Exhale. Inhale again, then the urge to cross your thighs begins to nag at you. “Well?”

“Yeah, smells nice- Fine. Ya smell fine.”

“Be still my beating heart! Someone alert the press that Texas said something other than-”

Joel interrupts Luke’s dramatics, scowl on his face. “Don’t you have a job to be doin’?”

Only once the bartender is down the other end of the bar, engrossed in a heated discussion over what beer pulls a better head, does Joel speak again, sipping on his drink. Whiskey.

“So I noticed somethin’, when I was checking your bookin’ info.” You nod, urge him to continue, and take a sip of your own drink. Some country song plays over the speakers and you notice a sudden shake in Joel’s knee, his foot tapping to the beat. “Says there should be two of you in my guide team.”

“Oh,” the lump forming in your throat falls safely back into the pit of your stomach as you take another drink of wine. “Must be a printing error. You know how technology can be, always complicating things.”

“Hmm,” it’s easy to write off the awkward energy between you with the excuse of earlier events, and it’s the first bright-side you find to him walking in on your intimate bath. “Well, you know the drill for tomorrow. 7 am on that deck or I’m-”

“Docking without me, I know.”

You finish your drink first. When Joel orders himself another glass, you smile politely and turn it down. Yawn, then tell him you best head to bed.

Before you can slip out the entry, someone calls your last name. Loud enough to turn more than just your own head.

It’s Joel, approaching you, effortlessly parting crowds through the lively bar as though he is knife and, the people, butter. The loud music seems to ring louder in your ear, impeding you from hearing the words that leave his moving lips.

“What?” You call out, hands clasped over your mouth in an attempt to amplify the volume of your voice.

His response is to step closer, hands holding you in place by the waist as he leans down. A hot breath on your neck, the smell of whiskey on his breath, the soft brush of lips against your ear.

“It’s your turn to bring the coffees.”

series taglist. @auteurdelabre

#joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfic

206 notes · View notes

1104-am · 6 months

Text

karina | my beloved, jimin.

genre ; fluff, angst

pairing ; karina x reader

notes ; took me so long to finish this because i want it to come out perfect! i like how this one turns out so i hope you guys enjoy it <3 also the orange text is a simple indicator so that you guys wont get confused w my with my writing!

word count ; 11k+

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"you may now kiss the bride,"

the reverend's words echoed through the air, signaling the culmination of a beautiful journey. in that moment, the world seemed to fade away, and all attention converged on the couple. time stood still as you gazed at the girl you love with your whole existence, captivated by her radiance.

yu jimin, breathtaking in her white wedding gown, adorned with delicate lace and pearls, took your breath away. as your eyes locked, an overwhelming surge of emotions filled your being. tears welled up in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as you realized the magnitude of this moment.

you watched as jimin closed the gap. the room fell silent, and all eyes were fixed upon the soon to be newly wed.

as she drew nearer, her beauty intensified, an ethereal glow enveloping her. her eyes shimmered with adoration, the tenderness in her smile did a little something to your heart.

in that instant, everything faded into the background. the murmurs of guests, the soft rustle of fabric, and even the beating of your own heart seemed to vanish, as you look at her.

in that poignant moment, a flood of memories engulfed your mind, transporting you back to the time when your paths first crossed in high school.

amidst the celebratory atmosphere, your gaze briefly shifted from the present to the past. images of the bustling hallways, filled with laughter and youthful exuberance, flickered before your eyes. and there, amidst the sea of faces, you found yourself reliving the very first encounter with the woman who now is standing prettily in ber wedding dress, your beloved yu jimin.

you remember the day you first talked to her. panting as you walked up to the classroom after a particularly grueling p.e session, the scorching heat of the day engulfed you. beads of sweat formed on your forehead, glistening as they trickled down your temple as you curse at your p.e teacher for making you run three laps just for simply being late to his class.

with each step, the air felt heavy and stifling, making it harder to catch your breath. you were about to enter the classroom when you noticed a person, falling asleep in the classroom which made you raise your brow in confusion. you quietly made your way into the quiet yet suffocating classroom before realizing that it was the girl you’ve been wary of. not in a bad way, but just because.

as you approached jimin's desk, your palms grew clammy and your heart raced in your chest. the awkwardness hung in the air, almost tangible, as you contemplated how to break the ice.

finally, mustering your courage, you managed to speak up, your voice coming out in a soft, hesitant tone. "um, hey... are you okay?" you asked, concerned.

jimin, taken aback by your unexpected approach, slowly lifted her head from the desk, her eyes filled with a combination of pain and surprise. "oh, uh.... yeah, i'm... i'm just having really bad cramps," she admitted, her voice filled with a hint of vulnerability. her face as pale as a ghost.

you nodded, trying to convey understanding and concern, then swiftly exited the classroom.

jimin watched as you turned and swiftly exited the classroom, leaving her momentarily puzzled and unsure of your intentions. she couldn't fathom why you would suddenly leave after approaching her first.

you hurried down the empty hallways, your mind raced. you needed to help her. the heat seemed to intensify the urgency of the situation, urging you to find a solution quickly. you made your way to the school's convenience store, your steps quick and purposeful. the air conditioning inside provided a temporary relief from the stifling heat outside.

you scanned the shelves, searching for any over-the-counter medication that could alleviate jimin’s pain. finally, you found what you needed, a box of pain relievers specifically designed for menstrual cramps. clutching the medicine tightly, you made your way back to the classroom.

as you entered the room, you saw jimin looking downcast, her expression a mix of pain and disappointment as she had assume that you had left her in her time of need.

trying to hide your own inner turmoil, you approached her desk again, holding out the box of pain relievers. "jimin? hey i got these for you," you said, your voice gentle and sincere.

her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the medicine. "you got these for me?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

you nodded, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "this is the least i can do," you explained, your voice filled with genuine concern.

a mixture of relief and gratitude washed over jimin’s face. she realized that you hadn't abandoned her, but had gone out of your way to assist her. "thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity and appreciation.

as the days passed, jimin couldn't help but be drawn to your kindness and thoughtfulness. she wasn’t aware of your existence before, but now she finds herself paying attention to every little things you do.

the classroom buzzed with the energy of high school students. some were diligently working on their assignments, while others chatted animatedly with friends. the atmosphere was typical for a mid-morning class, a mixture of focus and distraction.

amid the organized chaos, you sat at your desk, engrossed in your classwork. little did you know that jimin, was observing you from the moment the homeroom teacher left the classroom.

finally, as the noise in the classroom momentarily subsided, jimin seized her chance. she made her way to your desk, her heart pounding with appreciation. with a gentle tap on your shoulder, you turned to see her standing there, a warm and grateful smile on her face.

"hey," jimin said softly, her eyes filled with warmth, "i wanted to thank you for the other day" she said sliding an apple juice onto your table catching you by suprise. you were taken aback by jimin's sudden appearance and the earnestness in her eyes.

"oh, jimin," you replied, surprised, "it was no big deal, really." you flashed her a sincere smile, making her heart skip a beat.

the surrounding chatter seemed to fade away as jimin began to speak. her smile widened. "well, i appreciate it more than you know. and i wanted to do something nice for you in return."

the sincerity in her voice touched you, and you couldn't help but smile. "you don't have to, jimin," you said, still smiling.

jimin's eyes sparkled with gratitude as a tint of blush kissed her cheeks at the way her name rolls of your tongue "i know, but it’s fine! my treat."

as the two of you exchanged a heartfelt conversation, jimin’s deskmate aka her bestfriend couldn't help but take notice of the both of you.

as jimin returned to her seat, her heart still racing from her conversation with you, her desk mate aeri shot her a curious and somewhat suspicious look. aeri had been taken aback, shocked to see jimin interact with you.

you guys were the two pair she least expected to interact. you, a laid back person who rarely interfer with people’s business but presence always felt, and jimin who is the school’s beauty with brain who is a social butterfly that never fails to capture people’s heart but only she doesn’t know that.

aeri leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper, "jimin, what was that?" jimin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tried to maintain her composure. she stammered, "oh, um, that? nothing, really. just... you know,"

aeri raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by jimin's nonchalant response. "jimin, you've never talked to y/n before, and here you are giving y/n an apple juice?"

jimin's blush deepened, and she looked down at her desk, her fingers nervously tapping the surface. she mumbled, "it's just... y/n helped me out when i had period cramps the other day, and i wanted to say thanks. that's all."

aeri's eyes widens as she listen to the truth behind jimin's actions, "y/n did what? oh wow.. i really didn’t expect that but that’s so nice of y/n!"

jimin smiled gratefully at aeri, feeling relieved that her friend had understood and wasn't prying further. she knew that her interaction with you had surprised not only aeri but also herself, revealing a side of her she hadn't often shown at school.

your interaction with jimin increased ever since that day. be it on purpose or not, the interaction always ends with either both of you smiling from ear to ear.

one day, as you were leaving the classroom, you noticed jimin looking a bit puzzled over her english homework. without hesitation, you approached her desk. kneeling down to match her eye level, you caught her attention immediately.

you smiled and said, "jiminie? need any help with that?"

jimin looked up, her cheeks kissed by a tint of pink because of the cute name you had just called her, eyes lighting up with gratitude. "please! i'm kind of stuck on this part." she pouted, poking her book with the end of her pen.

you sat down beside her, and together, you worked through the english question. as you explained the meaning of the passage to her, jimin's eyes travels between the paper and your lips everytime you turn to look at her and it didn’t go unnoticed by you. it left the both of you smiling to yourselves as you guys seperated ways walking back home that day.

or when you happened to have an extra space under your umbrella on a rainy afternoon. seeing jimin without one, you offered to share it as you both headed to your next class.

jimin expressed her thanks, saying, "thank you y/n, i owe you one!" she said as she immediately went under it, hugging your arm so close to her.

you responded casually, trying to not make it obvious that the skinship she had initiated is completely blowing your heart off right now, "you’re lucky i checked the weather today, or we both would be sitting in our soaking wet uniform for mrs han’s class" you joked. jimin laughed, leaning her head on your shoulder adding the damage she had just did to your heart.

as you walked side by side under the umbrella, you shared light-hearted conversation, making the gloomy day feel a bit brighter.

you remember during lunch breaks, you occasionally found yourselves sitting at the same table. one day, you noticed jimin's lunch contained her favorite dessert stacked on her plate.

with a playful grin, you said, "jimin, is that your secret stash of chocolate cake?"

jimin chuckled and admitted, "maybe... i couldn't resist today."

you couldn't help but smile as you shared a laugh over her sweet indulgence.

you and jimin had grown closer, your relationship evolving into something special, a comforting routine amidst the chaos of school life. whether it was helping each other with classwork, sharing a spontaneous joke, or just quietly enjoying each other's presence, those moments had become the highlight of your day.

so, that morning, as you entered the classroom, you carried with you the expectation that today would be no different.

you smiled to yourself as you envisioned the friendly banter, the shared laughter, and the subtle but undeniable connection you had grown accustomed to.

it was this anticipation that made her absence all the more conspicuous, as the classroom's front door swung open, you found yourself instinctively looking in anticipation for jimin's arrival.

“where is she? she’s never been this late” you mumbled catching the attention of your deskmate, yeji.

“jimin? oh wait, now that you’ve mentioned?” the girl asks, looking around the unironically empty classroom

she was usually punctual, entering the room with a warm smile that brightened the day for everyone. however, to your surprise, jimin was nowhere to be seen today.

as minutes turned into the start of the class and she still hadn't appeared, you initially assumed she might be running late, something out of the ordinary for her but not entirely impossible.

yet, as the class progressed and the morning hours drifted into recess, the absence of her familiar presence became increasingly concerning.

jimin skipping school was a rare scenario. she was known for her dedication to her studies and attendance, never missing a class unless she was genuinely unwell. the worry began to gnaw at you as you couldn't shake the feeling that something must be amiss.

as the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, your sense of unease about jimin's absence intensified.

without wasting a moment, you rushed over to aeri, your classmate and friend who sat nearby. with a sense of urgency, you leaned in and asked, "hey, aeri, do you know where jimin lives?"

aeri, who had also been worried about jimin's absence, hesitated for a moment. she had been considering checking on jimin herself but seemed relieved that you were willing to take the initiative. still, she needed some reassurance.

"why do you want to know, and what are you planning to do?" aeri inquired with a concerned look

you quickly reassured her, realizing her concerns were valid. "aeri, i'm genuinely worried about her. she's never missed school like this, and i just want to make sure she's okay. i won't be a creep or anything, i promise."

aeri nodded, finally relenting. "alright, i was planning to go check on her too, but if you're going, that's fine. please make sure she's okay." she said as she sends you jimin’s address through kakaotalk.

with a grateful smile, you appreciated aeri's understanding and support. "thank you, aeri. i'll let you know as soon as i find out anything."

as you turned to leave, aeri couldn't resist teasing you a bit more, her playful tone making you flustered. "you know, she probably overslept and here you are, worrying too much! turning into a detective and shit" aeri giggled at the end of her words.

you chuckled and rolled your eyes at aeri’s playful banter, “oh come on, can’t help that i care for her”

“oh??” aeri’s eyes widen as she whipped her head towards you and then back and forth to the people around her wondering fi they heard what you had just said.

"please shut the fuck up aeri. i'll be quick, don't worry."

with that, you left school in a hurry, determined to check on jimin's well-being, even if it meant your concerns might prove unfounded, and aeri's teasing still ringing in your ears.

after rushing to jimin's house, your heart pounded with worry as you stood outside. to your suprise, the door creaked open, and there stood jimin, looking even paler than you had feared, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

your worry surged as you saw her, and without a second thought, you sprinted towards her, catching her by surprise. "jimin?" you exclaimed, unable to contain your concern any longer.

jimin's tired eyes widened in surprise as she turned to face you, her legs momentarily giving way. however, your quick reflexes caught her just in time, wrapping your arms around her and steadying her.

"oh god, are you okay?" you asked with genuine concern, holding her gently but firmly in your arms.

jimin's face, once pale with fatigue and illness, transformed as she gazed up at you. she leaned into your embrace, her voice soft and filled with gratitude. "i've been so sick, and i'm really glad you're here."

in that moment, as you held jimin close, the worry that had gnawed at your heart finally began to ease. you could feel the warmth of her presence and the depth of her gratitude in the way she clung to you.

jimin, still leaning against you, whispered, "i didn't want to worry anyone, but i've been feeling so sick lately. i thought i could push through it, but today was just too much."

you gently stroked her hair, a soothing gesture, and replied with heartfelt concern, "don’t be so harsh on yourself, okay?"

as you entered the house with jimin leaning on you, your heart filled with worry and care for her well-being. carefully guiding her towards the unfamiliar house, you searched for the living room. you carefully let jimin rest on the couch, before fixing a couple strands of hair that was hiding her pretty face. "what happened? why are you so sick?"

jimin, still looking drained but grateful for your presence, explained in a weak voice, "i caught a cold last night, and it just got worse. my parents are out for the weekend’s outstation trip, and i didn't want to bother them. but i’ve been too weak to even get out of bed, let alone go out and get medicine or eat."

“you should’ve called me. i was so worried about you jimin” your concern for jimin had poured out in your words, reflecting just how much you cared about her.

you were taken aback by the depth of your own emotions, and for a moment, you felt a rush of shyness as you realized how openly you had expressed your care for her, “.. or you could’ve called aeri”

gently placing the pillows and helping her settle on the couch, you stammered, "let’s get you some medicine and something to eat”

the realization of your deep feelings for jimin had made you momentarily shy, you cursed to yourself when you realized how you sounded just now but your determination to help her remained unwavering.

as you moved around in jimin's kitchen, searching for the medicine and the ingredients to make her a warm porridge, your thoughts were divided. on one hand, you were determined to find what you needed to take care of her. on the other hand, you couldn't help but steal glances at jimin in the living room.

every few moments, you would check on her, your worry and care evident in your eyes. she sat there, looking fragile yet comforted by your presence, and your heart swelled with the desire to ensure her comfort and well-being.

you found the medicine and the necessary ingredients eventually, but your occasional glances at jimin throughout the process were a testament to your unwavering concern for her.

few minutes passed and as you stood by the stove, carefully stirring the porridge and making sure the medicine was ready, you felt a pair of eyes on you. turning slightly, you found jimin sitting in the living room, her gaze fixed on you. her eyes held an expression you couldn't quite place—gratitude, warmth, and something more.

a gentle smile formed on your lips as you continued to cook, but you couldn't ignore the flutter of your own heart. it was as though you could feel the intensity of her emotions from across the room.

"should i turn on the tv to distract you while you eat?"

jimin’s gaze never left you as she shook her head softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "no, i just want to look at you."

your heart skipped a beat at her words, and a warmth washed over you. with the bowl of warm porridge and the medicine in hand, you returned to where jimin was sitting in the living room.

you offered her the food, and she accepted it with a grateful smile.

“careful, it’s hot” you said, sitting down next to her on the comfy couch. her small hands proceed to take the bowl from you.

however, as she reach for the spoon, she couldn't resist a playful grin. she set the spoon down in your hand, pretending to be weak, and looked up at you with big, pleading eyes. "could you,, feed me?"

you chuckled softly at her playful request, charmed by her antics. "what got into you?"

“i dont know” jimin faked a cough, making you roll your eyes in a joking manner. “maybe it’s the cold that is getting to me” she playfully giggled as you pick up the spoon. jimin's playful request to be fed made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile as you continued to feed her.

with each spoonful, she would occasionally blow on the hot porridge and then take a small, delicate bite, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you couldn't resist teasing her. "you know, jimin, you're quite the drama queen today."

jimin giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "well, i have to take advantage of being sick, right?"

you nodded in agreement, playing along with her delightful antics. "that's true. and it gives me the chance to pamper you a little."

jimin's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she gazed at you, her voice soft and filled with warmth, looking at you with wide eyes. "that’s so sweet?"

your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection. "only for you,”

the rest of the evening was filled with shared laughter, playful banter, and moments that made your heart swell with fondness.

jimin felt a change in the air. her heart raced a little faster whenever you looked at her, and a warmth spread through her chest as she enjoyed your company. it was in those quiet moments when you shared stories and exchanged smiles that jimin couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you both, or if you felt like this towards her as well.

in all honesty, you were aware that your feelings for her were far from simple. every time you see her, your emotions swelled, intensifying your desire to be transparent about your affection for her.

and finallly after much contemplation and discussion with one of your closest friend yunjin, you had finally devised a well-thought-out plan to address your emotions and reveal to jimin just how much you cherished her.

it was during this vibrant season that yunjin, one day in class, (not so) suddenly exclaimed, "you guys! there's a firework festival happening this weekend! we should all go together!"

the idea of a firework festival was met with enthusiasm from your classmates, and as the conversation buzzed around you, you couldn't help but seize the opportunity. nervously, you turned to jimin and asked, "will you be free to join me?"

jimin looked at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "why is that even a question? i’m always free if that means i get to spend time with you"

you smiled, so stupidly that you wish you could just wash your whole expression off right at the moment. you laughed and internally let out a deep sigh, one of you and yunjin’s biggest concern is jimin not being able to make it this weekend.

your heart raced with anticipation as you managed to invite jimin. however, you couldn't help but feel a bit jittery, knowing that the firework festival was the perfect setting to finally confess your feelings to her.

the days leading up to the festival were filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. you wanted everything to be perfect, and you couldn't stop thinking about how to express your emotions to jimin.

yunjin decided to pay you a visit at your house to offer her support in preparation for your confession to jimin. constantly having to reassure you that everything will be okay as she picks what would look good on you for the upcoming night.

she was there to assist you in choosing the right words to express your feelings, select the perfect outfit to wear on this momentous occasion, and guide you on what steps to take immediately after confessing. her presence and advice provided a sense of comfort and assurance as you geared up to share your heartfelt emotions with jimin.

the warm summer evening bathed the surroundings in a soft, golden glow. jimin’s eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness when she saw you walking towards her, sitting next to her on the shared mat.

she was pretty. you couldn't help but stare at jimin, who looked absolutely stunning with her hair tied into a messy bun, her bangs covering her forehead.you were staring a little bit too much, too much that jimin waved her hand in front of you, snapping you out of your trance.

unable to contain your affection, you gently fixed her bangs, "hi pretty, you look absolutely breathtaking." jimin's cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as she glanced at you, her smile radiant. "and you, you clean up pretty well too."

as you and jimin waited for the festival to begin, the conversation flowed effortlessly, and every word you exchanged felt like another step closer to the confession you had been eagerly waiting to make.

jimin's eyes twinkled as she talked about her favorite firework shapes. "i've always loved the ones that look like colorful stars. what about you?"

you couldn't help but chuckle. "i'll have to go with the ones that burst into a heart shape. they remind me of you."

jimin's cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, and she playfully nudged you. "you’re such a charmer, aren’t you?"

as the festival grounds starts to get crowded, the atmosphere became increasingly electric. the anticipation was palpable as you both felt relief to find a spot to enjoy the fireworks beforehand. you and jimin shared a quiet moment, taking in the anticipation in the night sky.

right before the first firework was about to light up the night sky, your heart brimmed with excitement. you turned to jimin, a warm smile plastered on your face as you gently took her hand in your own. your fingers interlaced, and in that moment, it felt like the world around you had faded away,

jimin, caught off guard by your sudden hand-holding, blinked in surprise. her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of delight and endearment. she didn't pull her hand away but instead tightened her grip on yours, her smile growing even brighter. her reaction was undeniably cute, and it made your heart skip a beat.

with a soft smile, jimin leaned closer, her voice a gentle murmur. "i'm so glad you invited me tonight. it means a lot to me."

"i wouldn't want to be here with anyone else, jimin." a gentle smile graced her lips, and her eyes seemed to shimmer with appreciation and affection. your words had clearly touched her heart, and her voice held a hint of tenderness as she responded.

“remember, first burst and you’re on it” yunjin’s voice rang in your head as you nervously anticipated the first burst of the fireworks.

as if on cue, the first burst of fireworks painted the night sky with a dazzling array of colors. in the gentle glow of the fireworks, you turned to her, your heart brimming with love. "jimin," you began, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity,

jimin turn to look at you, as if you’re the most important thing in the universe right now. the words you had been waiting to say spilled out from your heart, "jimin, there's something i've been wanting to tell you."

jimin's eyes widened with curiosity, her gaze that waslocked onto yours, deepened "what is it?"

your voice continued, each word carrying the weight of your emotions. "i want you to know that i really care about you, jimin. you mean so much to me, and i... i think i'm in love with you."

jimin's eyes shimmered with a mixture of surprise and emotion as the fireworks faded into the night. there was a small pause that felt like an eternity. the world seemed to hold its breath as you anxiously waited for her response, your heart pounding with uncertainty.

in that brief moment of silence, you couldn't help but worry that you might have overwhelmed her or said too much, too soon. but then, as the next burst of fireworks filled the night sky, jimin's eyes welled up with tears, and a smile broke across her face like the dawn of a new day.

jimin leaned closer, her voice filled with affection. "you have no idea how happy you've made me tonight. i've been waiting to hear those words from you."

your heart swelled with love, and you gently cupped her face, your thumbs brushing away a stray tear. "jimin, you're the most incredible person i've ever met. you deserve all the happiness in the world."

the next firework burst into the sky, casting a soft, romantic glow over both of you. you leaned in, and your lips met in a sweet, tender kiss, sealing your confession with a promise of a new chapter in your lives.

as the night continued with its magical display, the two of you held each other, feeling like the luckiest people in the world. your love had found its moment to shine, just like the fireworks in the summer night sky.

as the fireworks festival came to a close, you walked jimin home, hand in hand. the summer night had left an indelible mark on your hearts, and the gentle evening breeze seemed to carry the whispers of your newfound love.

the conversation between you both was easy and sweet, filled with dreams of the future. as you reached her doorstep, the moment to part ways arrived, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. jimin, however, looked up at you with a soft, affectionate smile.

"i had the most amazing night with you," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

you couldn't agree more. "i can't wait for more nights like these." your grip on her hand tighten, as she bring the back of your hand to her lips, kissing it softly.

jimin's eyes twinkled with excitement, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking. "so, now that we're, you know, partners... how should we address each other?"

you chuckled, realizing you hadn't quite clarified that yet. "i think we can keep it simple. do you have any special name you'd like to be called? i'd love to hear it."

jimin blushed at the suggestions, and then she looked at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "how about 'the love of my life'?"

your heart skipped a beat at her playfulness, and you couldn't resist grinning. "i think that's perfect, the love of my life." with a teasing glint in your eye, you added, "but maybe on casual days, i'll call you 'sweetheart' or 'babe.'"

jimin giggled at your playful banter. "you're spoiling me with options now, aren't you?" you leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek. "well, you deserve all the sweet names in the world."

the two of you shared a playful and affectionate moment and with that, you shared a tender kiss, sealing the evening with a promise of more beautiful moments to come, and a good night wish.

"come visit me in my dreams tonight, okay?" jimin playfully tapped your chest, eliciting a hearty laugh that left your cheekbones aching from the constant smile.

"you're getting awfully clingy," you teased, just as jimin closed the front door, leaving you alone with a foolish grin plastered across your face.

after that night, your bond with jimin grew stronger by the day. it was as if the sparks of love from that summer night had ignited a permanent flame between you two. you became inseparable at school, often seen together in the hallways, at lunch, and during group activities.

but what made your connection even more special was the low-key nature of your relationship. you didn't flaunt your love for each other; it was the little things that spoke volumes. the shared smiles, secret glances, and the way your hands would subtly find each other's during class or while walking down the school corridors. everyone loved seeing the two of you together, and your classmates often commented on how perfect you were for each other.

of course, like any relationship, you had your disagreements. there were times when a fight would erupt, sometimes over trivial matters and at other times over more serious issues. but what set your relationship apart was your commitment to working things out. you'd stay up late talking, apologizing, and understanding each other's perspectives. you made it a point to never let one another go to sleep upset.

jimin and you knew that in each other, you had found someone worth fighting for and loving with all your hearts.

as high school came to a close, jimin and you continued to be each other's constant support, studying together, sharing notes, and making precious memories along the way. it wasn't always smooth sailing, but the challenges only strengthened your bond.

one sunny afternoon, the results of the university entrance exams were released. you and jimin anxiously checked the list of accepted students. your eyes widened in amazement when you saw your names side by side on the acceptance list of the same prestigious university.

excitement bubbled within you as you turned to jimin. "love! we did it! we're going to the same university!"

jimin's eyes sparkled with joy, and she couldn't contain her enthusiasm. "i can't believe it! we're going to be together in college!"

the two of you shared an exhilarating hug right then and there, surrounded by classmates who were cheering on their own achievement.

with the news that you'd both been accepted into the same university, the excitement in your hearts was hard to contain. you decided to celebrate this wonderful milestone with a special dinner night.

as the sun set, you and jimin dressed up for the occasion, looking your best for the evening ahead. there was an air of anticipation in the way you smiled at each other, knowing that this celebration was not just about your academic success but the continuation of your beautiful journey as a couple.

you chose a cozy, candlelit restaurant known for its delectable cuisine. the atmosphere was perfect for a night of celebration. the soft glow of the candles, the soothing music in the background, and the warmth of each other's company set the scene for a memorable evening.

the waiter brought a delectable dessert, adorned with a sparkler that lit up the room. you reached across the table and took her hand, your eyes filled with love and gratitude. "i'm so lucky to have you by my side, not just tonight, but for all the nights that are yet to come. let’s do well"

she squeezed your hand, returning your gaze with affection. "i know, i can't wait to see where it takes us."

hand in hand, the evening continued with a sense of wonder and joy, as you celebrated your shared success.

as you both enrolled in the first semester at the university, your hearts were filled with excitement and anticipation. while you had chosen different majors, it didn't stop you from making time to meet up during lunch or to study together whenever free moments presented themselves. your connection remained strong, and the bond you had built over the years only grew deeper in this new chapter of your lives.

you cherished those moments when you could share a meal, talk about your classes, and laughing whenever the other makes a joke. those simple, everyday interactions were what made your days brighter.

however, as the semester progressed, jimin started making new friends and gradually spent more time with her newfound companions. the dynamic between you two began to change. she was excited about her expanding social circle and the adventures that came with it.

you didn't mind her making new friends; in fact, you were happy for her. it was her happiness that mattered the most. however, you couldn't help but feel worried about how less time she spent with you. lunches together became less frequent, and the study sessions no longer had the same closeness they once did.

your concern grew when she started attending parties thrown by her new friends. you used to accompany her and enjoy the gatherings, but as she began to attend more frequently, you found yourself getting tired and not as enthusiastic about going along.

it wasn't about jealousy, it was the fear that the person you had shared so many moments with was slipping away, and it left a pang in your heart.

in the beginning, you tried your best to be supportive and understanding. you knew that making new friends and embracing the social aspects of university life was an important part of the college experience. jimin deserved to have that, and you genuinely wanted her to enjoy this new chapter of her life.

however, as the weeks turned into months, the change in your dynamic became increasingly noticeable. your conversations became shorter, and sometimes you felt like you were the one initiating them. you missed those shared dreams, heart-to-heart talks before gong to bed whenever she came for sleepover, and moments of laughter that used to be a staple in your relationship.

in the span of 4 months the parties became more frequent, and you often found yourself neglected and staying back, choosing rest over the late nights of celebration. it was as if you were leading parallel lives, existing in different orbits. the anxiety of feeling left behind began to weigh on you.

one day, as you were going through your own class schedule, you saw a message from jimin about another party she planned to attend. you felt a mixture of emotions—worry, frustration, and the desire to talk things out. you replied,

“jimin”

“understand you want to enjoy college life”

“and make new friends”

“but i miss spending time with you and talking like we used to”

“can we find some balance”

jimin's response was quick, but it was clear that her priorities had shifted.

“i know, but i'm just exploring new opportunities”

“we always meet”

“let me have fun, pls”

her words stung, and you were left with a heavy heart. it was a difficult realization that the person you had shared so many memories with now had different priorities. you weren't against her growth or happiness, but the sudden distance between you two left you with a sense of loneliness you hadn't felt before.

jimin was excited about tonight’s party invitation she'd received and she couldn't contain her enthusiasm. you, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel the distance that had grown between you.

as jimin prepared for the party, you couldn't contain your frustration any longer. leading to you breaking the tense atmosphere as you confronted her. "jimin, do you really have to go to another party?” you turn to look at jimin who was fixing her bang and her annoyingly short dress. “you've been going out so often lately, and we barely spend any time together anymore."

jimin paused, her eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. she retorted, "i have to, okay? i want to enjoy college life and have fun. it doesn't mean i'm abandoning you."

you were hurt by her response, and the frustration bubbled up inside. "it's not about you enjoying college life, jimin. i want you to enjoy it but it feels like you're choosing these parties and your new friends over our relationship”

jimin's frustration mirrored your own. "come on, y/n. this again? we should trust each other. i can't feel like i'm constantly under surveillance, or that i can't have a life outside of us."

the argument escalated, harsh words exchanged that neither of you truly meant. your voice grew louder as you tried to make her understand your perspective. "i just want you to make time for us too, jimin. is that too much to ask?"

jimin's patience wore thin, and her voice wavered with a mix of anger and sadness. "i can't be your only source of happiness. you need to find some independence too! you can't cling to me like this."

tears welled up in your eyes as you felt a profound sense of loss. "i'm not clinging, i just don't want to lose you."

the weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and it all became too much for jimin to handle. she couldn't take the mounting tension and your jealousy any longer. in a moment of frustration, she exclaimed, "maybe you should figure out what you want from this relationship," and then stormed out of the house.

left standing alone in the silence that followed, your heart ached, and you realized that something had irrevocably changed between you and jimin. you were left to grapple with the reality of her absence and the implications of your argument.

two hours had passed since the heated argument with jimin, and you were now in your apartment, trying to clear your mind and calm your racing thoughts. the silence in the room was overwhelming, and you couldn't shake off the heavy feeling that something had been irreparably broken.

as you went about your evening routine, your mind wandered back to your argument with jimin. you wondered whether you had been too demanding, too clingy, or if there was a better way you could have expressed your feelings. you had no answers, just a deep sense of longing for the way things used to be.

suddenly, the door to your room swung open, and there stood jimin, disheveled and with her makeup smeared. Her mascara had left streaks on her cheeks, and her eyes were red and swollen.

panic surged through you at the sight of her disarray. without a second thought, you rushed to her side and pulled her into a tight, comforting hug.

the familiar scent of the cologne on her shirt filled your senses, the cologne you had come to associate with the late nights she'd spent sneaking into bed after parties. it wasn’t your cologne, nor was it hers. and with all the mess right now, all your doubts and thought fell into pieces.

and that was when you slowly let go of the hug, slowly distancing yourself from jimin, "jimin, what happened?" you asked, tears welling up your own eyes as you figured out.

her breath trembled, her voice quivering with anxiety and guilt. "i slept with someone else... y/n .. i fucked, someone…” jimin sobs gradually grew intense.

“you..." your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the overwhelming hurt and anguish you were experiencing. "intentionally, jimin?" your voice broke

“i wanted to convince myself that i was just drunk, but it was all intentional. y/n .. i messed up-" her red shot eyes turned to look up into yours.

you couldn't meet her gaze, knowing that the same eyes had once locked onto another's just hours aho, sharing affectionate glances, breath, and kisses.

"you messed up?" your voice trembled with anger and sorrow. "that's an understatement, jimin. you betrayed us. you betrayed everything we had."

jimin's tears flowed freely now, and she buried her face in her hands. "i never meant to hurt you. it was... i don't know, i thought it would help me forget about all the arguments and our drifting apart."

the words stung like a thousand needles, and you turned away, your back to jimin. "so, you thought fucking someone else was the solution? how does that make any sense!"

she reached out to you, her voice pleading. "it doesn't. it was a terrible mistake, and i hate myself for it.

you couldn't face her; the betrayal was too raw. "jimin, i loved you more than anything, but this... this is something i can't—" your voice cracked, your movements faltering as the weight of heartbreak pressed down upon you. every word felt like a painful reminder of what had been shattered.

jimin's pleas for forgiveness as she sobs, her voice muffled as the tears continued to flow. her attempts to reach out and touch you went unanswered. she could see the pain in your eyes, the same eyes that had once gazed at her with love and trust, now clouded with hurt and betrayal.

your voice was still heavy with sorrow as you asked, "...what led to all of this? what caused you to betray us?" you breath hitched, holding back another breakdown “three years jimin. three years..”

her eyes were red from crying, and she seemed to tremble at the sincerity of your question. "i.. we were growing apart, and I didn't know how to handle it."

your heart ached as you probed further, "and who is it, jimin? who did you betray me with?"

jimin’s gaze fell to the ground, and she hesitated for a moment before whispering a name that felt like a dagger through your heart.

the truth was as painful as you had feared, leaving you both trapped in the aftermath of the devastating confession.

“lee jeno”

you took a step back, distancing yourself from the person you had cherished. the room felt like it was closing in on you, and you had to escape the painful atmosphere. "i need some space, jimin. i can't... i can’t be around you right now."

as you left the room, her sobs echoed in your ears, a heartbreaking symphony of the love that had been lost. your heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces, and there was no immediate solution to mend the damage.

that had been the last time you laid eyes on jimin. in the days that followed, you spiraled into a world of sleepless nights and avoidance. your once vibrant social life dwindled as you withdrew even from your closest friends and family. you attended classes like a ghost and vanished right after.

jimin, on the other hand, wasn't faring any better. that night when you left her, she had spent hours in her room, blaming herself for the stupid decision she had made. she recognized the effect of her betrayal and the trust she had shattered couldn’t be fixed.

it was that very night when jimin made the difficult decision to delete and block the people she hung out out with at parties, distancing herself from the world she had become entangled with. she regretted not listening to you earlier, acknowledging that her actions had led to a point of no return.

while you deatached yourself from the world, jimin showed up on campus every day, determined to fix everything that went wrong even if it took years. she understood that she should be embarrassed and that she had to face the consequences of her actions. yet, she couldn't bear the thought of losing you and desperately longed for a chance to make things right again.

couldn’t bear the pain, jimin realized that she needed to find a way to bridge the immense gap between you two.

she decided to pour her feelings into heartfelt letters, carefully crafting each word as an attempt to convey the depth of her remorse and her desire to heal what was broken.

jimin’s determination kept her waiting at the cafeteria, just in case one day you might return to savor your favorite lunch. she knew deep down that you'd never show up, but she couldn't help but wait.

on tuesdays, she occasionally found herself waiting at your preferred boba shop, hoping against hope that you would walk in one day, ordering your usual drink.

but despite her efforts, you had completely shut yourself off from her and any interaction. your avoidance reached new levels, and you deliberately altered your daily patterns to ensure you didn't cross paths with jimin on campus.

it was as if you were leading an entirely different life, one starkly different from the world she once knew.

time moved on, and the years passed by, marked by the silence between you. jimin , however, did not give up. every month, like clockwork, she would send you letters filled with her thoughts, apologies, and hope.

they remained unopened, gathering dust on your shelf. each letter was a message of love and remorse, a silent cry for a second chance that you never acknowledged.

as you neared the final semester of your final year, the unopened letters had become a part of your life's background noise. it had been years since you last saw jimin, and you had grown accustomed to your separate lives.

seasons changed and the letters eventually stopped arriving, and you thought that perhaps this was the definitive end of jimin’s attempts to rekindle your connection.

the thought was bittersweet. on one hand, you found relief in finally moving forward from the heartbreak, but on the other, the weight of what was lost remained heavy in your heart.

then, one day, when you least expected it, a message popped up on your phone. It was from jimin. asking to meet you somewhere, and the mix of emotions that surged through you was impossible to ignore. it was a text that marked the possibility of reconnection, or perhaps, closure.

you couldn't predict what the meeting would bring, but you knew it was a crucial moment in both your lives, a moment that could change everything, or end the chapter that had been left hanging for so long.

you agreed to meet jimin at a quaint little café, and as you sat across from each other, the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty.

your mind raced with questions. was she finally asking for a second chance? was it time to open up your heart to her once more? you couldn't deny that you had never truly moved on from jimin, and the thought of a future together still lingered in the depths of your heart.

as you both engaged in small talk, the familiar smile she had always hown you kept appearing, making your thoughts drift towards the possibility of rekindling your connection. you imagined what it would be like to hold her hand again, to share your dreams and your life with her, as you once did.

but just when you were leaning towards the idea of a fresh start, jimin slid a wedding invitation onto the table, and it caught you completely off guard.

you blinked in disbelief, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. the invitation sat there.

the café's ambiance provided an uneasy backdrop for what felt like a pivotal moment. you couldn't help but ask the burning question. "jimin, what's this about?"

jimin's eyes met yours, and she took a deep breath, as if she'd been mentally preparing for this moment. "i know it must be a shock. i didn't want to keep it from you any longer."

you studied her face, searching for answers. "whose wedding is it?"

jimin hesitated for a moment before answering. "it's my wedding"

the words hit you like a ton of bricks. you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, and you struggled to comprehend the enormity of the revelation. "your... wedding? i don't understand."

she continued, her voice shaking. "i never stopped loving you, but i couldn't keep waiting for something that might never happen. i tried to move on, and i met someone else. we've been together for a while now"

the truth was like a dagger to your heart, and you couldn't hide the pain in your eyes. "so, you're getting married. you're moving on."

jimin nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "i'm not asking for your blessing or forgiveness. i just wanted you to know, to understand why i couldn't keep writing those letters or waiting any longer."

you couldn't find the right words to respond. the thought of jimin being with someone else, preparing for a life you once envisioned together, was a devastating blow. you knew that you had pushed her away, but you never anticipated this outcome.

in that moment, you understood that these words were not merely about her wedding. they were about the pain and heartbreak that had filled the void between you.

jimin's tear hung precariously on her lower eyelid for a moment before finally falling, and it was as if the drop held all the unspoken love and regret. the café, once a place of shared laughter, now bore witness to the depths of your intertwined emotions.

a solitary tear rolled down jimin's cheek, glistening like a diamond. her voice was barely more than a whisper as she choked back sobs, her eyes locked onto yours. "i'm so, so sorry."

silence enveloped both of you, a heavy blanket of emotions that neither of you could escape. the café, once a place of potential reconciliation, now held the bittersweet truth that your time with jimin had passed.

“you may now kiss the bride”

you watched as jimin closed the gap. the room fell silent, and all eyes were fixed upon the soon to be newly wed.

as she drew nearer, her beauty intensified, an ethereal glow enveloping her. her eyes shimmered with adoration, the tenderness in her smile did a little something to your heart.

you watched in silence as jimin closed the gap between her and her partner. the room seemed to fade away, and all eyes were fixed upon the soon-to-be newlyweds. the world around you blurred as your gaze remained locked on her.

as she drew nearer to her partner, her beauty seemed to intensify, an ethereal glow enveloping her. her eyes shimmered with adoration, and the tenderness in her smile was nothing short of breathtaking.

but in that very moment, the heartbreak was like a physical weight pressing down on your chest. you couldn't look away as jimin leaned in to kiss her partner. it was a kiss filled with love, the kind you had once shared with her. it was a reminder of the life you had hoped to build together, now realized in someone else's arms.

as you stood there, a sense of loss and longing washed over you. you couldn't help but wonder if you had made a mistake by letting jimin go, by not fighting for what you once had. the kiss marked a new beginning for jimin, but for you, it was a painful ending, a stark reminder of the love you had lost.

jimin offered you an opportunity, a chance to rebuild the trust that had once been broken. but you hesitated, unable to fully place your trust in her, in the one you still loved.

in the end, there was no one to blame but yourself. the choices you made, from buying her medicine back in high school to confessing your feelings under the fireworks, had all led to this moment. meeting jimin, loving her, had shaped your life in both beautiful and painful ways.

with a heavy heart, you realized that maybe those decisions, no matter how challenging or painful, were all part of your story with your beloved jimin.

my beloved, jimin.

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