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lila-lou · 1 month

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✨Beyond saving - Pt. 3✨

Summary: I hate summaries, so this is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Smut, mention of rape (well, detailed), Language, Angst, Hurt, soft dean (literally), it´s just a loooot

Word Count: 7600

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As another week has passed, Sam entered the kitchen, noticing you sitting alone on the ground, your eyes fixed on the table where Dean had inflicted so much pain upon you. He approached you cautiously, sensing the weight of your emotions hanging heavy in the air.

"Hey", Sam said softly. "How are you holding up?".

You glanced up at him, your eyes weary and filled with sadness. "I'm… I'm trying", you replied hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam sat down beside you, offering a comforting presence as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "I know it's not easy", he said sympathetically.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Sam's embrace, the weight of your pain almost too much to bear.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but Dean still loves you", he said gently. "He's hurting too, maybe even more than you realize. He hates himself for what he's done to you, for what the demonic version of himself did. It wasn't the real Dean, you know that, right?".

You nodded slowly, tears brimming in your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with Sam's words. "I want to believe that. But it's so hard, Sam. Every time I look at him, all I can see is… is what he did to me".

"I know", he mumbled. "But you have to remember that Dean would do anything to take back what happened, to make things right between you two. He's fighting his own demons right now, just like you are. And I know that deep down, he's still the man you fell in love with".

"I know it's going to take time", he said gently. "But I truly believe that you and Dean can find your way back to each other. You've been through so much together, and I know that love doesn't just disappear overnight".

"Thank you, Sam", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you".

Sam smiled warmly, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to thank me. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We'll get through this together, I promise".

As the days passed, you found yourself greeted each morning by the aroma of freshly prepared meals and the sight of a bouquet of flowers adorning your doorstep. With each delivery, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and hesitation, unsure of how to respond to Dean's gestures of remorse and affection.

Yet, despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the sincerity of his efforts. Each handwritten note contained memories of the happiest moments you had shared together, reminding you of the love and joy that had once filled your relationship.

With each meal and each note, Dean sought to bridge the gap between you, to remind you of the bond that had once bound you together. And though you remained guarded, the warmth of his gestures began to thaw the icy walls around your heart, slowly but surely.

As you sat alone in your room, reading through Dean's heartfelt words and savoring the meals he had prepared, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for forgiveness and reconciliation after all. And with that thought in mind, you found yourself daring to believe in the possibility of a brighter future, one where love and trust could prevail over pain and sorrow.

As the days passed, you found yourself slowly opening up to the idea of letting him back into your life, of giving him a chance to make amends for the pain he had caused.

With each meal he prepared and each note he left, Dean showed you that he was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness and rebuild the trust that had been shattered.

Two weeks later, as Sam ordered Pizza, Dean made his way towards sam and the delicious smell. As Dean reached for the pizza, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Startled, he turned to see you sitting next to Sam, your gaze fixed on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, a flicker of hope ignited within him as he realized what this moment meant. After weeks of isolation and silence, you had finally taken a step forward.

With cautious optimism, Dean approached you, his movements slow and deliberate. He sat down beside you, careful not to startle you, his heart pounding with uncertainty.

"Hey", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's, uh, it's good to see you".

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his briefly before flickering away. Dean's heart ached at the sight of your pain.

As the dinner progressed, a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional clinking of utensils against plates. Dean tried to muster up the courage to speak, to break the tension that seemed to suffocate the room, but the words caught in his throat.

Your gaze fixed on your plate, unable to meet Dean's eyes or engage in conversation. Every fiber of your being screamed with discomfort, your stomach churning with anxiety from being in such close proximity to him.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He longed to reach out to you, to apologize for everything he had put you through, but he knew that words alone would never be enough to mend the damage he had caused.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the tension with a forced smile. "So, uh, how's the pizza?", he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak, your throat tight with emotion. Dean swallowed hard, his own discomfort palpable as he forced himself to take a bite of his pizza, the taste turning to ash in his mouth.

Despite his best efforts to push aside his guilt and make things right, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud. As the dinner dragged on, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to truly make amends for the pain he had caused you.

As the tension lingered, Sam attempted to lighten the mood with small talk, but his efforts fell flat against the weight of the unspoken turmoil between you and Dean. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the heaviness in the air suffocating.

Dean's heart ached with every glance he stole in your direction, the sight of your pain etched into every line of your face piercing him like a knife. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you, to beg for your forgiveness.

For you, the meal was a torturous ordeal, you struggled to suppress the torrent of emotions threatening to consume you.

After dinner, Sam tentatively suggested watching a movie together, hoping to provide a distraction from the heavy atmosphere that lingered between you and Dean. He could see the strain etched on both of your faces and desperately wanted to find a way to bring a sense of normalcy back to your lives.

You hesitated, the thought of spending more time in Dean's presence filling you with dread. But with a small nod from Sam, you reluctantly agreed.

As Sam set up the movie, you and Dean found yourselves sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a palpable distance separating you. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but for the moment, you both focused on the screen in front of you, allowing the movie to serve as a temporary escape from the turmoil that surrounded you.

Despite the heaviness that still hung in the air, there was a glimmer of hope in Sam's eyes as he watched the two of you attempt to coexist in the same space. He knew that healing would take time and effort, but he was determined to do whatever it took to bring his family back together, one small step at a time. And as the movie played on, he silently prayed that tonight would mark the beginning of a new chapter for all of you.

As the movie played on, Dean found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from you, his heart aching with every fleeting glance he stole in your direction.

A torrent of guilt and remorse washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths.

In that moment, Dean would have given anything to ease your suffering, to take away the pain that he had inflicted upon you. If cutting out his own heart and offering it to you would mean healing your wounded soul, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But as he sat there, watching you, he felt utterly powerless, his own torment mirrored in your tear-stained eyes.

Another week passed, and tentatively, you began to open up to Dean once more. Your heart clenched with uncertainty as you heard his voice, but you knew that avoiding him forever would only prolong the pain for both of you. So, you found yourselves sitting across from each other at the large map-table.

Dean's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. "Are you able to sleep again?", he asked, his voice laced with concern and regret.

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of sleepless nights and haunted dreams flooding back to you. But then, with a small nod, you found the strength to answer. "Yeah, I am", you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

It was a small victory, but it felt like a significant step forward.

"I'm so sorry", he whispered, his words heavy with regret. "I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for what I did to you".

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you met his gaze. "You hurt me, Dean", you said, your voice quivering with emotion. "You hurt me in ways I never thought possible".

Dean's expression crumpled, his heart breaking as he listened to your words. "I know", he murmured, his voice choked with tears. "I know and I hate myself for it".

"You… you raped me, Dean", you continued, the words catching in your throat. "You violated me in the worst possible way".

Tears fell down Dean's face as he listened to your confession, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm so sorry", he repeated. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you".

You took a shaky breath, your heart heavy with pain. "I want you to understand", you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I want you to understand what you did to me".

"You shoved me against the table, Dean. You didn't care that I was begging you to stop. You didn't care that I was in pain".

Dean´s voice choked with tears. "I know, I know. I was a monster. I should have never—". But you cut him off. "You broke my wrists, Dean. Do you even realize how much that hurt? Every time I moved, every time I tried to do anything, I was in agony".

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never should have touched you".

By now, your voice was trembling with emotion. "And my ribs, Dean. You broke them too. Every breath felt like knives stabbing into my chest. I couldn't even breathe without feeling like I was going to pass out". Tears started streaming down your face.

"And then you… you fucked me until I bled, Dean. Do you understand what you did to me? Do you understand how much pain you caused?". You paused. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you, Dean. But I want you to know… I want you to know what you did to me".

Dean sat there with teary eyes and wet cheeks, his heart breaking with each word that fell from your lips. He listened to the pain in your voice, the anguish in your eyes.

Every detail you recounted of the horrors he had inflicted upon you pierced his soul like a thousand knives. He couldn't bear to look away, couldn't bear to turn his gaze from your tear-streaked face.

In that moment, he felt the weight of his actions crush him with a force he had never known before. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to hold you close. But he knew that he didn't deserve it, knew that he had caused you too much pain to ever be worthy of your love again.

All he could do was sit there, his heart heavy with regret, and pray that somehow, someday, he could find a way to make amends for the irreparable damage he had done.

"I lay there for hours", you confessed, the memories still vivid in your mind. "I couldn't move, couldn't even catch my breath. Every inch of my body was screaming in pain, and all I could do was lie there and pray for it to end".

You continue, your voice laced with bitterness and sorrow. "After that, I stopped looking for you", you admit, the words heavy on your tongue. "I stopped trying to save you, stopped caring".

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words sinking in.

Dean's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to your words, his knuckles white from the tight grip he held on his emotions. "I wanted to kill myself", he confessed in a voice barely above a whisper. "That's how much I hated myself for what I did to you".

Your words cut through the heavy silence like a knife, each syllable dripping with the bitterness of your pain. "I'm already dead because of what you did to me", you said, your voice laced with a coldness that sent a shiver down Dean's spine.

His eyes closed in anguish, the weight of your words bearing down on him like a crushing burden. You were his everything, the love of his life, and the thought of spending his days without you was unbearable.

"I wanted to marry you, to build a future together", Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I wanted to have children with you, to grow old with you by my side. But I… I broke you".

The pain and heartache radiating from him was palpable, and despite your own suffering, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the man who had once held your heart in his hands.

"I know", you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're hurting, Dean. But… but what you did to me, it's something I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive".

Dean's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't expect you to forgive me, not after what I've done".

During the following two weeks, Dean spared no effort to demonstrate that he was no longer the monster he had once been. He cooked for you, cleaned the bunker without being asked, and even went out of his way to avoid any situation that might make you uncomfortable. Every gesture was infused with a desperate longing for redemption, a silent plea for your forgiveness.

As you sat in the TV room, enveloped by the soft glow of the screen, a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap, you felt a sense of tentative peace settle over you. It was the first evening Dean and you had been alone since Sam and Cas had left on their hunt, and for once, the weight of the past seemed to lift ever so slightly from your shoulders.

Lost in the movie playing before you, you barely noticed when Dean appeared in the doorway. His eyes lingered on you, filled with longing.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. But then, with a hesitant step forward, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room.

"Mind if I join you?", he asked, his voice tentative as he gestured to the empty space beside you on the couch.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to push him away and the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. After a moment's pause, you nodded silently, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.

As Dean settled in beside you, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with gratitude and relief.

Dean watched you, his gaze lingering on your profile as you became engrossed in the movie playing on the screen. A flicker of recognition crossed his features as he realized it was the same movie from your first night together in the bunker—the night when everything had felt so new and full of promise.

"You remember this?", he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at you, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as memories of that night flooded back. "Yeah", you replied, your voice tinged with warmth. "It feels like a lifetime ago".

Dean's expression softened at your words, sadness clouding his features. "I miss those days", he admitted. "I miss us".

You turned to look at him. "I miss us too", you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, lost in memories of happier times.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope or forgiveness. "Are you willing to give me another chance?", he asked quietly. "All I want is to make things right, to hold you in my arms and ease your pain. I want to heal what I destroyed, to show you that I'm not the same person I was back then".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret reflected in their depths. Part of you wanted to believe him. But another part of you was still wary, still hesitant to open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt again.

"I don't know, Dean", you admitted. "I want to believe that you're capable of being the man I once loved. But… I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt again".

Dean's heart sank at your words. "I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to show you that I'm worthy of a second chance. Just… please don't give up on me".

As you sat there, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, memories of your past with Dean flooded your mind. You couldn't deny the depth of your love for him, even now, despite the pain and betrayal you had endured.

You remembered the way he used to make you laugh, the warmth of his embrace, and the way his touch could make your heart race with excitement. Despite everything that had happened, a part of you still longed for those moments of intimacy and connection that you had once shared with him.

But alongside the memories of love and happiness, there was also the lingering shadow of pain. You couldn't forget the agony of that fateful night, the way Dean had shattered your trust and left you broken and bruised.

Yet, as you looked into his eyes now, you saw the same love and longing reflected back at you.

Dean's voice trembled with emotion as he opened up to you, his words raw and filled with longing. "I've missed you so much", he mumbled. "I miss the way you used to sleep on my chest, your soft breathing. I miss the sound of your laughter, the way it could light up a room and make all the darkness disappear".

He reached out tentatively, as if afraid you might pull away, and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Without you, I'm lost".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you listened to his words, seeing the pain and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything that had happened between you, you couldn't deny the depth of his love for you, or the longing in his voice as he spoke of wanting to make things right.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes with Dean, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. A whirlwind of emotions churned inside you—fear, longing, uncertainty—each vying for dominance as you grappled with the decision before you.

Part of you wanted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of your own walls and protect yourself from the possibility of being hurt again. But another part of you, a part that still held onto the memories of love and happiness you had shared with Dean, yearned for connection, for healing, for the chance to rebuild what had been broken between you.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart that threatened to burst from your chest, you leaned in slowly, ever so slowly, towards Dean. Each inch felt like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders as you closed the distance between you.

As your lips met his in a tentative kiss, a surge of emotion washed over you, overwhelming in its intensity. It was a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty, as you allowed yourself to let go of the pain and hurt that had consumed you for so long.

You cupped Dean's face in your hands, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure where to place his hands, afraid of scaring you away with too much intimacy. His heart clenched at the touch of your lips, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he finally felt the softness of your kiss again after so long.

Despite the pain that lingered in your heart, there was a sense of comfort in Dean's embrace, a familiarity that whispered of happier times gone by. For a moment, the world fell away as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the moment, each kiss a silent promise of hope and redemption.

But beneath the surface, there was still a lingering sense of uncertainty, a fear of the unknown that threatened to overshadow the fragile connection you were trying to rebuild. And yet, as you pulled away from the kiss, a glimmer of hope flickered in your heart.

With a shaky, uncertain voice, you whispered the words that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue, the silent plea of your heart reaching out to him. "Hold me", you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with the weight of your uncertainty.

Dean's heart skipped a beat at your request, his chest tightening with a mixture of hope and fear. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin as tears welled in your eyes.

Dean's hands trembled as he gingerly brushed over your back, his touch tentative yet filled with a quiet tenderness. With each gentle stroke, he tried to convey the depth of his remorse, the ache in his heart mirrored in the way his fingers traced soothing patterns against your trembling form.

You clung to him tightly, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you let out the pain and anguish. Your body shook with the force of your sobs, the emotional turmoil threatening to consume you entirely.

With a tenderness born of regret and longing, Dean pulled you closer to him, his lips hovering over your forehead as he held you in his embrace. His touch was gentle, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as you continued to sob against his chest.

Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked down at you, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the knowledge of the pain he had caused you.

"I love you", he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything in this world. I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, for the pain I've caused. But please know that my love for you has never faltered, not for a single moment".

As you looked up at him, your tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips betraying the turmoil within you, Dean's thumb gently brushed away your tears with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance that this fragile moment of connection wouldn't shatter beneath the weight of your shared past.

With a trembling breath, you leaned into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips met yours once more. The kiss was featherlight, tentative yet filled with an undeniable longing—a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a chance to start anew.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw emotion and longing. With a newfound sense of courage, you straddled Dean's legs, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving with a desperate urgency born of years of pent-up emotion and longing.

Dean's hands remained at his sides, a silent testament to his fear of causing you further pain or discomfort. He was surprised by your boldness, by the intensity of your kiss, but he dared not move, afraid that any sudden gesture might startle you and send you fleeing from his arms once more.

Instead, he surrendered to the moment, allowing himself to be consumed by the warmth of your lips, the softness of your touch.

As the kiss intensified, your tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Your hands roamed over Dean's broad shoulders, urging him to reciprocate, to touch you in return. Yet, he remained still, his hands trembling slightly at his sides as if unsure of what to do.

But then, as you pressed closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace, you felt it—a hardness pressing against you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Dean's erection, unmistakable beneath the thin fabric of your pajamas, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body, freezing you in place.

For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to proceed. The realization of what was happening between you, of the undeniable attraction and desire that pulsed between your bodies, sent your mind reeling. Could this be happening? Could Dean still desire you, after everything that had transpired between you?

But before you could gather your thoughts, Dean's voice broke through.

"I… I'm sorry", Dean murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to… I just…".

His voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet your eyes. You could see the conflict etched on his face, the turmoil raging within him as he grappled with his own desires and fears.

"It's okay", you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached out to cup his cheek, gently guiding his gaze back to yours.

But even as you spoke the words, uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could you truly forgive Dean for what he had done? Could you trust him again, after the pain and betrayal he had inflicted upon you?

As you took Dean's hands in yours, feeling the tremble of your own shaking fingers, you guided them slowly and cautiously to your hips. The simple act of touch sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, causing Dean's heart to race and his body to react with a twitch of arousal.

But despite the undeniable chemistry between you, Dean remained hesitant, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort. He wanted to be sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay with this, that you were ready to take this step together.

For a moment, the air between you crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between your bodies. But then, as you met his gaze with unwavering determination, Dean felt a surge of courage welling up inside him.

With a shaky breath, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was soft, gentle, a silent promise of all the things left unsaid between you.

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, his words laced with both desire and restraint. "Do you… Do you want to go to our bedroom?", he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or reluctance.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you at his words, a mixture of longing and apprehension swirling in your chest. The idea of being alone with Dean in the intimacy of your shared bedroom filled you with both excitement and trepidation, a reminder of the love and passion that had once defined your relationship.

But as you looked into Dean's eyes, seeing the vulnerability, you knew that this was a chance for healing, for closure, for the two of you to finally confront the demons of your past and forge a path forward together.

With a nod, you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently as you rose to your feet. "Yes", you whispered.

Dean walked slowly, his footsteps deliberate and measured, as if he were afraid to rush or startle you. His hand, warm and comforting, brushed against yours in a gentle caress, a silent reassurance of his presence by your side.

As you followed behind him, the hallway stretched out before you like an endless expanse, each step echoing the rhythm of your racing heart. And as Dean finally reached the door to your bedroom, he turned to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. Without a word, he reached out and gently pushed the door open, inviting you into the sanctuary of your shared space.

With a shaky breath, you stepped across the threshold, the weight of the past hanging heavy in the air around you. But as Dean closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Dean hesitated for a moment. "Is it okay if I… if I pick you up?", he asked softly.

You nodded slowly, your own voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, that's okay".

With a gentle smile, Dean reached out and scooped you up in his arms, his touch surprisingly tender as he cradled you against his chest. Despite the years that had passed, the memory of his strength and warmth flooded back to you, comforting and familiar.

As he carried you across the room, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt a sense of trust and safety wash over you, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that still existed between you.

And as he carefully lowered you onto the bed, his touch was feather-light against your skin.

As Dean hovered halfway over you, he hesitated, his voice trembling with nerves as he asked, "Would… would it be better if you were on top?".

You noticed the veins on his throat and arms standing out, evidence of the effort he was exerting to hold back for you. "It's alright", he mumbled. "If you want to be on top, it's fine".

His eyes searched yours for a moment, before you nodded slowly and before Dean lowered himself down beside you, his body trembling with anticipation and desire.

Dean´s fingers trembling slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt.

With a gentle touch, he lowered his mouth to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he brushed the shirt off your shoulders, revealing your naked breasts to him.

You met his gaze with a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes—vulnerability, longing, and a hint of fear. But despite the tumultuous storm raging within you, you nodded slowly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm okay", you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

With a gentle touch, Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he continued to undress you, his touch both reverent and filled with longing.

As you straddled his la, got rid of his shirt and pulled Dean closer, your body pressed against his, you feel the warmth of his skin against yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your nipples graze against his now naked chest, eliciting a soft moan from both of you. Dean's arousal, evident and undeniable, presses eagerly against you.

Dean's hand ventured beneath your pajama pants, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body. As his fingers brushed against your skin, he realized you weren't wearing underwear, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. His hand hovered tantalizingly close to your pussy, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Can I touch you there?", he asked quietly.

Dean's heart skipped a beat as he watched you nod slowly, your breath heavy and your heart racing in sync with his own. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to crackle with electricity. With a nervous bite of your lip, you gave him the permission he sought, sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins.

His hand trembled slightly as it moved lower, tracing the contours of your soft folds. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively towards his touch.

Dean's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. With each gentle stroke, he teased and tantalized, his fingers dancing over your most intimate parts with a skill that left you breathless. Your head spun with desire as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment.

As the heat between you grew, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace. In that moment, there was nothing else that mattered—no past, no future, only the raw, primal desire that burned between you.

As Dean felt the warmth and wetness between your thighs, he knew you were ready. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to ease down your pajama pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

"You okay?", he murmured softly, his voice laced with concern as he continued to undress you.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you struggled to contain your desire. "Yes, Dean", you whispered. "I want this".

With a final tug, your pants were discarded, leaving you completely exposed before him. And as Dean rid himself of his own sweatpants and boxers, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him—powerful and virile, his desire evident in every line and curve of his body.

Your breath hitched as you caught sight of Dean's erection, fear and uncertainty flashing in your eyes as he hovered above you. Sensing your hesitation, Dean froze, his own desire momentarily forgotten as he looked down at you with concern.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort or unease.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "I'm just… I'm scared", you admitted.

Dean's expression softened, a look of understanding and compassion flickering in his eyes. "I won't hurt you, I promise", he whispered. "I'll go as slow as you need me to".

Feeling reassured by his words, you let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Thank you", you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As Dean continued to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tension and apprehension creeping into your body. Despite his best efforts to reassure you, you remained nervous and tense, unable to fully let go of the fear that still lingered within you.

Sensing your unease, Dean pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours again. When he saw the hurt reflected in your gaze, his heart clenched.

"What can I do to help you relax?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I want to make this special for you, to show you how much I care. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it".

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the turmoil raging within you. But then, with a shaky breath, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need… I need you to be patient with me", you admitted, your words tinged with vulnerability. "I need you to understand that I'm still scared. And I need you to hold me, to reassure me that everything will be okay".

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest in a tight embrace. And as you melted into his arms, you felt a sense of comfort and safety wash over you, the tension slowly beginning to ebb away in the warmth of his embrace.

"I'll be gentle, I promise", he murmured, his voice soothing and tender. "We'll go slow, at your pace. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?".

You nodded, a sense of trust and gratitude washing over you as you buried your face in his chest. "Okay", you whispered.

With a gentle sigh, Dean leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. His touch was soft and tentative, his lips moving against yours with a tender reverence that made your heart flutter.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his erection pressing against your wet folds, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your lingering apprehension, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between you, the desire that burned hot and fierce between your bodies.

With a soft moan, you pressed yourself against him, your hips rocking instinctively against his, seeking the delicious friction that would ease the ache deep within you.

Dean’s breath was heavy with anticipation as he looked down at you, his eyes burning with desire and longing. “Can I…?”, he began, nodding towards his between the two of you. His hand moved to his shaft, as if to emphasize his need.

Your heart raced at the thought of finally feeling him inside you again, of surrendering yourself to the passion and intensity of your shared desire. But a flicker of uncertainty danced in your eyes, a lingering reminder of the pain and heartache that had once torn you apart.

“I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with”, he assured you. “I just want to make you feel good, to show you how much I love you”.

With a shaky nod, you reached out and took his hand in yours, guiding him towards you. As his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, you felt the heat and urgency of his desire washing over you, igniting a fire deep within your core.

As Dean pressed slowly inside you, his movements careful and measured as he sought to ease your discomfort. But as he felt you wince beneath him, he immediately stopped, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with worry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you met Dean’s gaze. “It’s okay”, you assured him, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I just… I need a moment”.

Dean nodded understandingly, his heart aching at the sight of your discomfort. “I’ll stop”, he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been more patient with you, especially after… after everything”.

You reached out and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You’ve always been patient with me”, you murmured, your voice filled with gratitude and love. “Even before that awful night”.

Dean’s eyes softened at your words. “I just want to make things right”, he whispered.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. "I want you to go on", you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to replace those memories of that terrible night with something beautiful, something loving".

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling. "Are you sure?".

You nodded, your gaze never wavering as you met his eyes with unwavering determination. "I'm sure", you whispered. "I want this, Dean. I want us".

As Dean slowly pushed himself inside you, the sensation of being filled with him once again sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly and breathlessly, your body instinctively responding to his touch. But just as Dean buried himself completely within you, the memories of that terrible night crashed over him like a tidal wave.

His movements faltered, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the weight of his past mistakes bearing down on him. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to push the memories aside, to focus on the here and now, on the love and desire that flowed between you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the haunting images that lingered in the depths of his mind.

Feeling himself going soft again inside you, Dean’s heart clenched with frustration and self-loathing. He wanted nothing more than to give you pleasure, to show you how much he loved you, but the ghosts of his past refused to release their grip on him.

With a heavy sigh, Dean pulled away from you. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t do this right now”. His gaze full of shame, as he got up from the bed and started to get dressed.

As you pulled up the blanket, your heart sank at the sight of Dean's retreating figure. Anxiety gnawed at your insides as you watched him hastily get dressed, his movements tense and hurried. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one more tumultuous than the last.

Was it something you did? Something you said? Was your hesitation the reason he couldn't stay hard? The weight of your own self-doubt threatened to suffocate you as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

Dean couldn't even look at you right now, so consumed was he by his own guilt and remorse.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him hastily getting dressed, his actions leaving you feeling confused and hurt. The weight of your own self-doubt pressed down on you like a heavy burden as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Was it because of me?”.

Dean paused, his hand hovering over his belt as he turned to face you. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something, to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault. But before he could utter a word, the door swung open, and Sam burst into the room, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him.

Misinterpreting the situation, Sam’s eyes darted between you and Dean, confusion evident on his face. “What’s going on?”, he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he took in the scene before him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 4

Taglist: @mayafatimakhan

#jensen ackles #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam and dean #supernatural #spn #hurt/comfort #hurtful #violent love #love

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blasphemecel · 13 days

Text

Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader

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emofrogboy79 · 7 months

Text

A Decadent Bath (Reader x Astarion)

Reader (Tav) gives Astarion a much needed spa day.

• Gender Neutral! Reader

• Mild Hurt/Comfort

• Inspired by the “cried (/pos) during a non-sexual bath with gf” reddit post

• Words - 2,061

Astarion was noticeably different after you got out of that crypt.

He was unusually quiet, staring off into space when you were with the others. It wasn’t unusual for him to slink off and for you to find him all by himself, wrapping his arms around himself.

When he hadn’t noticed you yet, his shoulders slumped, his eyes glazed over. He tried so hard to keep up appearances, like he always did. He was good at it—the others scarcely noticed. But you did. You noticed him.

When you approached him, your heart ached. The way he was always so alert, you had barely gotten him to relax around you only for him to regress.

“Astarion?” You called. He already knew you were there. You knew that he knew, too.

“Yes my dear?” He smiled wide for you, a mirror to the first time you met. How his smile never reached his eyes, so keen to please.

“Care for a bath? I’ve got it all ready for you.”

He laughed, “Darling…” His voice dips in that seductive mask he doned to protect himself, “If you wanted to bed me, you could have just asked.“

Concern laces your expression, “No, I mean it Astarion. Just a bath.”

His face fell immediately, examining your face for any hint of deceit, any ulterior motives to getting him undressed and pliable in your hands. Yet, all he saw as he peered into your eyes was a deep sadness.

Another smile—smaller, more hesitant, curled at his lips, “Then how could I say no?”

You huff, “You’re certainly welcome to,” You remind him.

You lead him into the Elfsong suite’s bathroom, where you had set up a decadent bath just for him. A marble tub, filled with that sweet bergamot and rosemary scent he was oh so known for. A towel and robe was set aside for him, candles decorating any dark corners of the room. It was romantic in every sense of the word, ripe for sensual activity…

“How could I, after all you’ve gone through for me?” His eyes once again search yours for any hint of deception. His tone was teasing but you knew his words always had more weight to it. For 200 years, affection was a transaction to him. A thing to be used to his advantage. There was no such thing as kindness out of your own heart to him—only a debt that needed to be repaid. It was one he could never truly fulfill, either—because how do you pay someone back for giving you freedom?

“You know my answer.”

Astarion pouts for only the briefest of moments, “Very well,” He smirks, slipping past you and deeper into the bathroom, “Don’t peak now~”

You turn your whole body away to let him undress, hearing his clothes drop to the floor and him dip into the pool of warm water, and lastly, a relaxed sigh as he slips further into the tub.

“May I?” You call, only turning your head slightly towards your lover, eyes shut obediently.

“Yes, yes, come here already you boring sod,” He sighs with a laugh, resting on the edge of the tub as he watches you saunter over, “Moonlighting as a butler now, are we?” He reaches for your hand, and you take his. You bow down and kiss his knuckles tenderly, “You look like you need pampering tonight, that’s all.”

“Darling… I always need pampering,” He giggles, cheeks flushing just the faintest as you kiss his hand. He watches you grab the bucket full of soaps and brushes, sitting by his side, fully clothed in your camp gear.

“A little more pampering than usual then,” You smile, “I’m going to pour some water on you, alright?”

“Not going to join me?” He pouts, and it’s genuine. He wants to feel more of you, more of your touch, the sensation of warm safety he had been missing all these centuries.

“Do you want me to?”

“Please,” He bats his eyelashes at you. You laugh, “Okay, fine. Scoot over.”

Astarion does as he’s told and makes room for you as you rip off your clothes, placing yourself behind him as you bring the bucket of supplies into reaching distance.

He purrs happily, “There you are my sweet.”

You snort, taking a small pail from your bucket. You dunk it into the warm water and let it cascade over his white curls, letting the less stubborn of the blood covering him wash into the pool, staining it a light pink.

“Lean back for me,” You hold his head in your hands as you massage in the soaps, letting it sud up into a lovely cloud of bubbles, careful to not let it fall into his eyes. He sighs with every scratch, his pink ears twitching happily under your touch as you hum a sweet melody. It takes everything in him to not fall asleep right there.

“Rinsing…” You murmur, once again using the pail to rinse Astarion’s hair. As you coat your hands in conditioner, you make sure to not to pull or tug as you detangle the soft curls in your hands. They spill into your fingers like sea foam on the shore, whispering a soft apology when he flinches at a particularly stubborn knot.

“Enjoying yourself?” He mumbles, eyebrows not so knitted together than before. You look down at him, the slope of his nose, the light wrinkles and imperfections of his skin, faint freckles dotting his cheeks from exposure to the sun. His eyelashes, long and soft like the mop on his head. If Dame Aylin was an angel, perhaps he had just lost his wings.

“Very,” You chuckle, “Now sit up for me, I’m going to wash your body.”

“Oh finally,” He grins, and you gently tug at his cheek, “No naughty business, mister,” You whisper in his ear, body flushed with his. Little did you know that this action made his body light up in a flame, every part you touched him burning as hot as the sun.

That would be a very tall order from you, but one he would obey happily nonetheless.

You pull away from him to coat your hands in the next viscous liquid in your bucket, acquired from a lovely aromatherapist down by the market. You massaged it over his back, taking extra care to ease the tenseness in his shoulders as you brush over the scars on his back. You move to coat his torso, relishing in the way his heart beats so strongly under your touch as you ghost over his pecs, smoothly gliding down the soapy ambrosia to his hips. You ignore the way he shivers at the way you gently knead at his upper thighs, and you do not linger—much to his dismay—as you grab a sponge and suds over where you touched him, head resting on his shoulder as you individually scrub his dainty fingers. A warmth blooms in his lungs, a gnawing, awful, retching feeling—like his heart was going to swell out his chest. He blinks away tears as you run over his pulse. It was faint, but oh so much stronger when he was with you.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” He turns to you, caressing your jaw to make you look at him. You see him eyeing your lips, and you give in— planting the smallest kiss on his lovely lips.

“Better?” You smile as you see him pout, “Hardly,” he whines. You chuckle as you kiss his cheek, “Must I massage you as well?”

“Perhaps,” He huffs, “Anything to keep your hands on me, love.”

“Are you that starved of touch?” You motion for him to turn around and face you, taking one of his legs and repeating the cleaning process. It’s hard for you to keep your concentration on just soaping his legs— it was a simple task, but the temptation to stare at Astarion’s flushed face, hair slicked back and curled to frame his jaw, deep ruby eyes filled with a fondness you never would have expected to see when you first met him—was a greater desire than reading than trying to read that book of Thay.

“You underestimate how much I crave you my dear,” He laughs, “It rivals even my hunger for blood, you know.”

“Really?” You smirk, “Then am I to assume your love me more than your taste for blood?”

Astarion leans back against the rim of the tub, admiring you as you rinse his raised leg with such gentleness.

“Just barely.”

You blink up at him, genuinely surprised, before you melt into a shy smile, “Careful now, you can’t exactly eat my love for you, you know.”

“I wouldn’t dare. You’ve given me too much already.”

You splash him and he yelps, “That’s for implying you don’t deserve it.”

Astarion gasps, his exaggerated faux offense had grown on you, “Oh whatever do you mean, darling? Of course I deserve it, only a fool would deny himself the pleasure of your company.”

Yet behind that pompous smirk was a whirlpool of mixed emotions. Guilt. Gratitude. Shame. Fear. A deep terror of this respite in his cruel life coming back to bite him. You knew it all too well, he would always have trouble accepting that you loved him just for him. To accept that you wanted nothing more than to love and care for him just as much as he cared for you.

“Mhm, says the elf who punishes himself by isolating himself away from me.”

Astarion rolls his eyes, “It’s not so much a punishment as more of…” He tries to find the words to bullshit his way out of this one, “an insurance. I don’t want you getting sick of me already.”

“Rather bold of you to assume I’d ever tire of your presence,” You retorted softly, setting down his leg to rinse in the bath.

He snorts, “And I thought I was a liar,” He teases, and that earns him another splash.

“Come on, let’s get you out of this bath before it gets cold.”

He frowns as you leave the tub, resting his chin in his arms as he rakes in the visage of your soaking wet body. You use the robe initially meant for him for yourself, grabbing another from the garment heater beside the sink.

“Ugh, do we have to?”

You raise a brow, “Do you want to get pruny?”

Astarion grimaces and relents, letting you help him out of the bath. His legs already felt like jelly from being submerged for so long, and the warm, fuzzy robe you put around him doesn’t help the feeling of his knees buckling in.

You wrap a towel around his head and begin drying his hair, smiling as he laughs in surprise.

“I’m not completely useless, darling,” He says, head still bowed down for you to dry. No attempt to stop you was ever made.

“I said I’d pamper you. That includes drying you off too.”

Astarion sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. You laugh, stopping your assault on his hair to look him in the eyes with the towel flopped on his head like a hood. A deep pool of ebony stared back at you, the red of his irises merely a thin ring around his pupils as he gazed at you like you were sent from the heavens itself.

A small smirk curls at his lips, “The gods made you to ruin me,” He kisses your cheek, inhaling your scent as he nuzzles into your neck. It was muted under his own, the one you now both shared thanks to that bath, but he can't help but find that small sliver of you more comforting.

You play with the silver curls between your fingers, petting him softly at the nape of his neck, “You’re rather fond of that line, aren’t you?” You kiss his neck, just a touch away from those puncture scars.

“It’s factual, is it not?”

“Not when you’re standing right here.”

He chuckles, the tips of his ears staining an even deeper red.

“You flatter me.”

Astarion leaves the sanctuary of your scent to look into your eyes once again, kissing you deeply with all the tenderness the both of you could physically muster.

“Let’s head to bed, shall we?”

#astarion #astarion acunin #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur’s gate tav #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion x reader #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3 tav #gender neutral reader #mild hurt comfort #hurt comfort #ao3 crosspost

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earthtoharlow · 1 month

Text

Flashing Lights

19. Break Up Song

Jack Harlow x Singer!OC

series masterlist

“This is our break up song, but can’t we just get along for the night, in spite, of the hurt we hide. For old times sake, won’t you just take me by the waist and hold me underneath the sheets. Make love like our first week.”

Maryse took a deep breath as she removed her headphones. Her leg of the tour with Coldplay was over and she was finally back in the studio for the first time.

She turned to her engineer, Swish and she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness mingled with excitement.

“Well?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “How’d that sound?”

Swish’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he leaned back in his chair, a smile spreading across his face. “That was incredible,” he replied, his tone filled with genuine admiration. “You sounded great, I think we got something special here.”

Relief washed over Maryse as she took in his words. “Thank you.” She told him with a grateful smile. It was hard to sing breakup songs about Jack when all she wanted to do was write love songs about him. Because she still loved him, and probably always would.

Though it had only been a short while since their relationship had ended, the pain of their breakup weighed heavily on her heart, casting a shadow over every aspect of her life. What had once been familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, as if she were navigating a world that had been turned upside down overnight.

Every day felt like a battle, a relentless struggle to come to terms with the reality of her new life without Jack by her side. The memories of their time together haunted her, their shared laughter and intimate moments now serving as painful reminders of what she had lost.

And yet, despite the passage of time, the wound of their breakup still felt raw and tender, as if no amount of time could ever truly heal the ache in her heart. Each day brought with it a new wave of emotions – sadness, anger, regret – music was the only thing helping her through it.

As she continued writing her notebook, Maryse didn’t think much of Swish saying he wanted her to meet someone. She heard the door of the studio open, she was shocked who she saw standing in front of her.

“I want you to meet someone,” Swish said enthusiastically. “This is Clay. He’s a talented producer, and I thought it would be great for you two to collaborate.”

Awkward tension hung in the air as Maryse shook Clay’s hand as they exchanged pleasantries. Despite their attempts to mask it with polite conversation, Maryse and Clay couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that filled the room and it only slowly went away when they started writing together.

Swish ended up leaving half way through the session which left them alone together. Clay watched Maryse from across the studio, a thoughtful expression on his face. He could see the pain etched in her features, the weight of her emotions heavy on her shoulders. With a sigh, he approached her, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for showing up here,” he began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I didn’t realize that you were the one I was going to meet, and I wouldn’t have come if I had known.”

Maryse offered him a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Clay,” she reassured him. “I’m actually glad you’re here.”

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Really?” he asked, a hint of hope creeping into his voice.

She nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah,” she replied softly. “It’s nice to see a familiar face.”

A relieved sigh escaped Clay’s lips as he relaxed, the tension melting away from his shoulders. “I’ve missed you, Maryse.” he admitted, his voice filled with honesty. “After the breakup, things just haven’t been the same. Jack misses you—“

Before Clay could continue, Maryse held up a hand, her expression grave. “Please,” Maryse interjected softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. The mention of Jack hurt more than she wanted to admit. She missed him too. “Let’s not go there.”

Clay’s eyes were immediately filled with remorse when he noticed the look on her face. “I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

“It’s okay, Clay,” Maryse replied softly. “He’s your brother, after all. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t bring him up.”

Clay nodded, "Thanks, M,” he said, his voice filled with appreciation. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Maryse gave him another small but genuine smile, “I will be.” His concern warned her heart.

They continued to write and collaborate in the studio; the creative energy between them flowed effortlessly, the earlier tension went away with each passing moment.

As the session drew to a close, Maryse turned to Clay with a smile, her eyes alight with excitement. “Hey, I wanted to invite you to the opening night of Beauty and the Beast,” she said eagerly. “I’ll leave some tickets for you at the door. It would mean a lot to me if you could come.”

Clay was taken aback by her invitation, his surprise quickly giving way to gratitude. “Wow, Maryse, I’d love to come,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for inviting me. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Great!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “I can’t wait for you to see the show. It’s going to be amazing.”

Maryse gave him a hug before leaving the studio. As Clay watched her leave he wondered if he could convince Jack to come to her debut. He knew Jack still cared deeply for Maryse and maybe attending her performance could be a step towards reconciliation.

Clay rushed out the studio and called Jack asking if he wanted to meet up for lunch since Jack was also in LA for work. All Jack and Maryse needed was a little push.

***

“But I think it would mean a lot to her if you were there. She really wants you to come.”

It had been months since Jack had last seen Maryse and the thought of facing her again filled him with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over him. What would Maryse say when she saw him? Would she be angry, or would she be glad to see him? Clay did say Maryse wanted him there, but what if she changed her mind? The uncertainty gnawed at him, fueling his nerves even further.

Jack squared his shoulders and made his way towards the entrance of the venue. Whatever lay ahead, he was ready to confront it. And as he stepped through the doors, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within him. Maybe tonight they would actually be able to have a conversation they so desperately needed and if she wanted him there then this was the step in the right direction.

Of course when he walked in, Clay and Urban were sitting in the middle, perfect view of the stage. Maryse wouldn’t be able to miss them even if she tried. Jack’s knees bounced nervously with pent up energy.

As he glanced around the room, Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settle over him. The crowd buzzed with excitement, but all he could think about was the impending encounter with Maryse. He closed his eyes and took a moment to center himself. After all, tonight was about Maryse’s moment to shine, and he was determined to be there to support her, no matter what.

Jack opened his eyes when sudden realization washed over him like a wave crashing against the shore. He remembered the surprise he had meticulously planned for this night – a custom-stained glass guitar inspired by Beauty and the Beast, a gift he had intended to present to Maryse as a symbol of his love and support.

But now, in the wake of their breakup and the events that had followed, he couldn’t help but wonder if the production crew would still go through with the gift. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to see Maryse’s face light up with joy as she received his gift. But on the other hand, he couldn’t shake the fear that it would only serve as a painful reminder of what they had lost.

His thoughts were cut short when the lights began to dim, his heart skipped a beat when Maryse walked out on stage. Her presence commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

“She sounds amazing.” Urban whispered next to him. Jack could only nod in agreement. With every soaring note, Maryse seemed to breathe life into the character of Belle, her performance a testament to her skill and artistry.

After Maryse finished the opening number, she spotted Jack. Her heart skipped a beat with a mixture of surprise and confusion. What was he doing here? Why had he come to her show after everything that had happened between them?

Her thoughts raced as she tried to make sense of the unexpected sight, but then she noticed Clay and Urban sitting beside him, a small but significant detail that suddenly brought clarity to the situation.

In an instant, everything clicked into place – Jack’s presence at the show was no mere coincidence. He had come at the request of his brother, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes without a single word.

As Maryse slipped into the iconic yellow dress backstage, her mind still reeling from the unexpected sight of Jack in the audience, she was approached by a member of the production crew bearing a gift.

With trembling hands, she accepted the beautifully wrapped package, her heart fluttering with anticipation. As she carefully unwrapped the gift, her breath caught in her throat as she revealed the stunning stained glass guitar nestled within.

Tears welled up in Maryse’s eyes as she traced her fingers over the intricate design, the beauty of the instrument taking her breath away. And then, as she read the accompanying note, her heart swelled with emotion as she realized who the gift was from.

Maryse unfolded the note attached to the gift, her eyes filled with tears at the heartfelt words written by Jack. The message was simple yet profound, conveying a depth of emotion that stirred her soul.

Dear, my sweet M,

I will always be your biggest fan. Your talent, your passion, and your spirit continue to inspire me every day, and I am endlessly proud of everything you have accomplished.

With this guitar, I hope to remind you of the love and support that surrounds you, even in the darkest of times.

No matter where life may lead us, please remember that you will always have a special place in my heart.

With all my love,

Jack

Maryse blinked back her tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup. Taking a deep breath to steady her emotions, she composed herself and turned to the production crew with a hopeful expression. “Hey, um, do you think we could switch out the guitar for the ending song?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “I just… I really want to use this one instead.”

The crew exchanged glances, recognizing the significance of Maryse’s gift. Without hesitation, they nodded in agreement.

With a grateful smile, Maryse cradled the custom-stained glass guitar in her arms, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination. She was ready to put on a performance of a lifetime.

As Maryse descended down the set stairs on stage holding Josh Gordon’s hand the crowd erupted into thunderous applause, their cheers echoing throughout the theater. With every step, Maryse felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, amazed by the overwhelming support and adoration from everyone in the crowd.

Maryse’s eyes locked onto Urban, Clay and then finally Jack. A warm smile spread across his face as he caught her gaze, his eyes shining with pride and love.

When Maryse was sure the cameras weren't pointing towards her she mouthed the words “I love you” to Jack, a tender smile graced his lips, his eyes shimmering with emotion.

She took a deep breath and began to sing the final song, her voice soaring with passion and sincerity. When she reached the pinnacle of her performance, she transitioned seamlessly into an electrifying guitar solo, her fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings of the custom-stained glass guitar.

In the audience, Jack’s eyes widened in astonishment as he watched her. The sheer power and passion of her performance took his breath away, leaving him utterly speechless. The theater erupted into thunderous applause, the crowd rising to their feet in awe.

And as the final chords faded away, Maryse felt a sense of peace wash over her – a profound gratitude for the love and support. But in the back of her mind she couldn’t wait to reunite with Jack backstage.

Jack quietly slipped backstage, his heart pounding nervously, he found Maryse in her dressing room, lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Before he could say a word, Maryse launched herself into his arms, her tears flowing freely as she clung to him tightly.

With a shaky voice, she began to apologize, her words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I never meant to hurt you. I took your love for granted. I love you, and I’m ready to face whatever challenges come our way. I want to move in with you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. All I want in the world is to be with you.”

Jack held her close, his own heart heavy with emotion. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, gently wiping away her tears. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now. What matters is that we’re here, together, and we’ll figure things out, one step at a time.”

With a tender smile, Maryse reached into the small pocket of the Bells dress and pulled out the note Jack had written her. “Thank you for the guitar,” she said softly. “It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Jack nodded in thanks, and Maryse’s tears began to subside as a sense of relief washed over her. And then, as they both calmed down, Jack took a deep breath.

“Listen, Maryse, I’m sorry for what I said that night. I was wrong to accuse you of stringing me along,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. “What do you think about flying to Kentucky for my No Place Like Home show, in a couple days? We can talk more there, have a real discussion about where we go from here.”

Maryse looked up at him, her eyes shining with hope. . “I’d like that,” she said softly, her heart filled with renewed optimism. “Thank you, Jack. For everything.”

They held each other close, hoping that in a couple days everything between them would be resolved. And that they could go back to the way things were before.

***

Jack had just closed the door of his dressing room as Neelam escorted the interviewer out the room. He was more nervous than usual tonight. He was about to play at a sold out KFC Yum Center in his hometown and the only thing he could think about was Maryse.

They had been texting back and forth all day. She had texted him saying she was on her way. Maryse had decided to stay in a hotel while in town. Not feeling comfortable yet to stay the night with him yet before they had their talk. He was nervous but ready, he missed her so much as these last few months were some of the hardest of his life.

He jumped up and took long strides to the door when he heard a knock. Jack was taken aback when he saw who was standing in front of him. “Victoria?” He tried to compose himself, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

Victoria was someone he dated, if you could even call it that for a couple years. Before he met Maryse, he didn’t like going to bed alone and Victoria was always there at his beck and call. Jack eventually got bored of her, so he stopped contacting her. Months later, he met Maryse and he was the happiest he had ever been. until the breakup.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Jack exclaimed, his voice tinged with surprise and unease. “You can’t just come backstage like this.” Victoria’s presence immediately brought him discomfort.

Victoria looked at him confused before pushing past him inside the room. “Nemo, invited me. And besides I thought you would be happy to see me? I heard you were single!” She told him in a singy tone, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Jack sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed that she was here and quite frankly ruining his mood. “It’s complicated, and none of your business.” he replied, his tone tinged with frustration and uncertainty. He knew that explaining his situation would only complicate matters further, but he couldn’t bring himself to outright deny the possibility of a reconciliation with Maryse.

Before he could say more, Victoria's eyes darted towards the door and she quickly pulled Jack into a kiss. Before Jack could pull away, the door of the dressing room opened and there stood Maryse, eyes wide with shock.

Maryse’s heart sank as she struggled to process what she was seeing. All the trust she has placed in Jack seemed to shatter, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Jack immediately pushed Victoria away, his eyes widening in alarm as he registered Maryse’s presence. “Maryse. No, it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, his voice tinged with panic as he realized the gravity of the situation. His words fell on deaf ears as she shook her head in disbelief.

Without a word, Maryse turned on her heel and bolted from the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she raced down the hallway. Tears blurred her vision as replayed the scene in her head. The pain of it all threatened to consume her.

As she reached the hallway, Maryse collided with Urban, her momentum causing her to stumble backward. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. With a shake of her head, she pushed past him and fled from the venue, her mind reeling with the weight of her shattered trust and broken heart.

When Maryse left the room, Jack turned to Victoria face red, frustration boiling over. “Why the fuck would you do that?!” He barked, his voice laced with anger.

Jack didn’t even give her a chance to reply but he raced down the hall hoping to catch Maryse before she left. He knew deep down that he had already lost her.

As he reached the hallway, Urban stopped him, concern etched into his features. “What happened?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain the mess that was made, in just a few words? With a heavy heart, he shook his head, sank to the ground, his back pressed against the cool surface of the venue’s wall, as a wave of defeat washed over him.

With his head in his hands, Jack felt the weight of what happened bearing down on him. He couldn’t help but feel like he had lost the love of his life for a second time, and the thought was almost too much to bear.

***

AN: I know, I know…but I did warn y’all that it gets worse before it gets better. 🏃🏽‍♀️

song lyrics from Break Up Song by Pixie Lott

Tag List

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @vinniehackersbaee @daphnescorner

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow angst #jack Harlow x black oc #flashing lights

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mlkyshxrtcke · 6 months

Note

Hey,

It’s me again,👾anon.

First off I really love Eidon. He’s so loyal. Thou when I was taking out the bodies trash, it occurred to me to wonder, what would happen if the reader was the yandere one. Like they stalk character, steal valuables from them for their shrine, masturbate to their muse taking a shower without them knowing.

In all honesty, I have no clue which character will be interesting to see in that predicament. Thou it will be cool see Sherlock in the whole.

Well, thanks for reading my rant and kind of request. If you’re uncomfortable please don’t be pressured to do it. Thanks again.

Yours truly

👾

Why 👾anon i hope that you know that im literally in love with you and everything about this idea. He’d be so dumb n clueless about it because he thinks he already knows literally everything about you :( he’d def be all sad n upset like a kicked puppy. honestly i can see this becoming a verrrry interesting conflict in the future.. but for now, here you go, anon. Ilysm pookie bear 🎀

TWs: yandere behavior, stalking, masturbation, fem!reader

“If there’s anything you need, be sure to tell me, ok? Ciao, bella..” That’s one of the things he liked to call you. Beautiful, huh? God, just the way he spoke to you with his sweet tone, and deep voice made heat pool deep in your stomach.. Its was always your stupid neighbor with his stupid eyes and stupid smirk and stupid flirty attitude, Eidon. He always made time for you, even when he was neck deep in paperwork. You didn’t know exactly what his job was, but he always put so much time and effort into it that you decided to just not question it. He always laughed at your jokes, even the bad ones, and gave you cute gifts and always left his door open, just for you. Just for you. No one else. You. Just you. You wanted Eidon.. and you admit to having— urges.. especially around him. Scratch that. You needed him. You eat, drink, sleep, and breathe that man on a daily basis. And you swear to god if anyone wants to take him from you, which seemed likely because of how appealing he was, you’d kick their fucking teeth in and do things to their body that would make them fucking unrecognizable to the autopsy. He was only for you. And nobody else. You believe that you two were destined to be together, and were specially crafted for each other. You had already planned out the rest of your lives together. You wouldn’t need to rely on anyone else when you had each other. Just the two of you. Forever. Just how it should be, and just how it will be. He hadn’t picked up on your obsession just yet, but you worried that he might if you keep slipping up around him. He left you a copy of his house key just in case of an emergency or if he had to go on a work trip. I mean, who said that you couldn’t just step in while he was out and take a peek?

His door opens with a loud creaking noise, and you step in to admire every little detail of his house. You had obviously seen it plenty of times before. (Oh trust me, you knew the layout of his whole house like the back of your hand despite just moving in..) It was just more exciting each time. You felt like you were closer to him.. more connected with him. This was the house where he cooked up meals for you and spent time with you when you felt lonely and where he shamelessly pumped his aching dick into his hand every time you accidentally teased him.. You waltz around with a wide smile spread across your face, peeking at his belongings, petting his white cat, Elodie, and then tiptoeing upstairs to where his room is. You finally make it to his room and— oh good God.. it smells like him, too. Eidon always smelt sweet, like a walking bakery, and catching a huge whiff of it the second you step into his room only added to your growing arousal. His room was rather basic with little decor, but you just figured that he doesn’t have the time to decorate. Each step you take is very careful, making sure that you leave everything just as you found it, well, that is until you see his underwear sticking out of a laundry basket. He wouldn’t care if you took it.. He wouldn’t care at all, right? He doesn’t mind. You take it, feeling your body starting to get all hot again.. if anything it’d be wrong for you to not take it. It’d be the perfect addition to a corner of your house you dedicated just for him. ♡ He doesn’t know about it, of course, but you’d love to tell him at some point.. maybe when he finally asks you out. It’ll be perfect with all your framed pictures of him, his name written with hearts, locks of his hair that you wrapped in cute pink ribbons, and even some of his expensive jewelry you stole from him that he’s been scrambling to find for the past week. “But I’m positive.. I wore it yesterday.. what the hell..” How cute. You scurry back home, you were pretty familiar with his schedule when he didn’t have unexpected business trips, and it was around this time that he comes home. You just couldn’t wait to bring your new prize to your shrine!!

By the time that Eidon got home, he was rather exhausted, but he couldn’t wait to kick back, maybe write another diary entry about how he wants to pamper you and spoil you, then absolutely ruin you, pound your pretty pussy and spill his hot sticky cum into your womb. He starts to undress, dropping his clothes on the floor lazily and turning on the water to the shower. From your house, you peek out your bedroom window which gave the perfect view of him showering.. he always had his shades open, its almost like he wants you to see.. oh shit— he stepped into the shower, letting the water hit his body while you watch the way that his cock hung.. and he was.. hard? You let your hand slide down to your panties, teasing your clothed clit as he touched himself in the shower. It was adorable, how he aggressively fists his cock while thinking about you after a long tiring day. Enough was enough. You kick your pants and underwear to your ankles, teasing a finger around your cunt and thrusting it in and out at a relatively fast pace. You felt a familiar coil starting to tighten inside you, rolling your eyes back while you watched him. You felt so filthy, touching yourself to your sweet neighbor who had not a clue that you wanted him to fill you up with his thick cock and be his forever. At this point you stop holding back, moans escaping your lips with every thrust of your fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you, causing your back to arch and squeal out his name. Your room now filling with the scent of sex as you watch Eidon step out of the shower. You knock out a few moments afterwards.

Little did you know, after Eidon’s shower, he watches footage of your room and notices something sticking out of your pocket in the video.. something that belongs to him. His underwear?? Shit, now he knows that you’re watching over.. always.

I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH !! 🐾

#yandere smut #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc smut #yandere imagines #yancore #yandere oc #yande.re #fem reader #my ocs #fanfic #lovesick #yanderecore #yandere girl

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Note

How do you think Levi would react if he found out that the reader once used to have a crush on him, but he showed her his Yandere side and did some horrible things to her, so now she was scared of him and despised him.

Crushing

Tag List: @issamomma @palesweetscherryblossom @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con (it’s brief but still there), forced virginity taking, degradation mentioning, Master/Pet kink, power dynamic play

Master List

—————————————————————————

I think he would be confused at first. He’s not really sure what behavior he showed you in the beginning that made you crush on him. To Levi, he doesn’t necessarily act all that much differently. He’s always cold and stern, always making witty quips, always calling everyone a “brat” or a “shit stain”.

Then he realizes what it must have been. You must have seen a caring side of him that’s very rare. He’s always yelling at everyone to “get it together, damnit!” However, with you, he was kind of different. There was just something about you that seemed so fragile, like you joined the corps to do something good with your life but it still scared you. He could admire you trying to overcome your fears, and those are the type of fears that are valid.

So, he took special care and paid more attention to you. He wanted to keep you safe, wanted to make sure you focus better than anyone on the field or during missions. He backed you up when you needed it, but he trained you to make that happen as little as possible since he still needed to lead his squad. If he had to save one person out of everyone though, it would be you. No question about it.

Everyone who walks through those metaphorical squadron doors either thinks they’ll be able to slay every Titan out there with minimal damage or they just have nothing better to do with their life. You knew the risks, though. You knew the cost of fucking up walking through said doors, yet you still did it.

It fucking turned him on. Your level of intelligence mixed with your highly developed intuition gave him a rock solid hard on in his uniform trousers.

Then, came the sexual advances. You liked the flirting tone. It was different from what you were used to, warmer, kinder. After that, it got to a point where he was very touchy. You rejected his touches as he tried to fuck you. You didn’t want that yet. He had no choice but to truly make you his.

Your crush on him was squashed like a big afterwards. Once he took your virginity, you never wanted to look at him again.

Thinking about it, it kind of makes Levi sad. He didn’t realize what he did to you affected you so harshly. He doesn’t necessarily know what to do though, and he won’t stay away from you. He can’t. When he’s away from you for too long, his stomach and cock aches with a deep longing for you. No, giving you space is out of the question.

He will probably try to regain your favor again somehow. He can’t forgo sex, but he’ll try to be a little more gentle with you. He’ll put in more of an effort to be nicer to you rather than degrading you every chance he gets.

I’ve mentioned his Master/Pet kink in previous posts. He’s going to take that easy on you as well. Levi won’t make you get on your knees too much. In fact, he’ll probably try satisfying you by eating you out. Since he gets more pleasure than he gives, he can afford to dedicate a night every once in a while to you.

In the end, your fear never truly goes away, but Levi learns to let it roll off of his shoulders. After all, pets should revere their masters if they know what’s good for them.

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girl-next-door-writes · 6 months

Text

You Matter To Me

Characters: Steve Harington x reader

Summary: A shared moment before heading into the Upside Down where you and Steve both reflect on what is important.

Word Count: 1000 words

Prompt: You Matter To Me

A/N: I have been going through some ‘real world’ stuff recently and this song showed up on my radar again and despite the million fics I have to write I felt this needed to be written. It isn’t perfect, I couldn’t find all the words, but if you are reading this then I want you to know that you matter.

Nobody should have this much pressure placed on them, and yet he had taken it almost willingly. The role of leader, of protector, it weighed heavy on his shoulders, and although he hid it well, there were flashes of the truth hidden in those beautiful, soulful eyes; eyes you could happily get lost in, even on the worst days, perhaps especially on the worst days. Their warm richness comforting, even though the slivers of profound sadness swam in their depths. Each horror he had witnessed haunted him, words left unsaid and yet screaming as the two of you looked at each other. Insecurity, doubt, the fragility of his carefully crafted self-confident persona swam in those sad eyes, shattering your heart into a million pieces.

There were no words. The painful realization that nothing said could make things any better, caused a deep ache in your soul. Taking a seat beside him, you simply shuffled closer, tucking yourself into his side and slipping your hand into his. Interlacing your fingers, you looked down at your hands, silently vowing to stay right there by his side for as long as he would let you.

This beautiful boy had gotten under your skin, and although your emotions for him were largely undefined, he mattered to you. He was important. He was…irrevocably connected to you. How do you even begin to tell someone that? It isn’t as simple as those three overused words, and it was deeper than a romantic desire. You saw him, just as he truly was, and knew that he was enough, that your life was infinitely improved by his existence. Did he know that? Was he aware of how he touched everyone’s life? You felt an almost overwhelming desire to grip him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood that he was so much more than he believed; that he truly did matter. But instead, the two of you sat in silence, holding hands and watching the others preparing.

Steve stole a glance at you, allowing himself a moment to just be a nineteen-year-old boy, sitting holding hands with someone he cared about. It was a little addictive spending time with you. There was just something about the way you listened to him, like you heard all the parts he didn’t say out loud, and you didn’t think he was stupid or broken.

He had a close friendship with Robin, he adored his best friend, and then there were the ‘kids’, and Nancy; well, the Nancy thing was complicated. Now he also had Eddie… All these people depending on him, needing him to step up and take the lead. There was a part of him that wanted to run, to just get in his car and drive away from this hellhole and start over. If he’d gone to college then he wouldn’t be here for this shit, this would be someone else’s problem. The guilt of that thought gnawed at him and he subconsciously squeezed your hand. He was scared, but he knew he couldn’t turn his back, he would never forgive himself.

There was something different about this fight, a shadow in the back of his mind that said they might not all make it. Looking around at his friends, he felt his heart clench. They all mattered. Dustin would probably go on to cure some deadly disease or figure out a way for everyone to live on the moon or some shit. Lucas, he had a shot at becoming a pro athlete, if he focused. Nancy had a bright future as a journalist maybe, blowing the lid off government corruption and saving people… Each and every one of them had such potential to make a real difference in the world. The only person he could even consider disposable in the grand scheme of things, was himself. This might be the one thing, the moment where he might be of some importance, making sure the rest of them got through.

He was brought out of his thoughts by your head resting on his shoulder. It was such a small gesture but it grounded him, and he found himself leaning down, his cheek pressing against your hair as he closed his eyes.

“Steve?” Your voice was so quiet that he could easily have imagined that you had spoken.

“Yeah?”

“You matter to me. More than all this. More than most people.” Your words hung in the air between the two of you and he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. Don’t go doing anything ‘heroic’, because if something happens to you then I’m just gonna have to make a deal with the devil, or bring you back as a zombie or something, and then you’ll be screwed. You will feel my wrath.”

“Your wrath?” he chuckled, an eyebrow raising in amusement as he opened his eyes again.

“Yes, my wrath. I will be incredibly pissed at you for doing something so stupid, and for leaving me, and then making me learn voodoo so I can bring you back to yell at you.”

“Yeah, that does seem like it might be a bit of a hassle.”

“A major one. So, just promise me you will try your best to see me on the other side of all this because, for some fucked up reason Harrington, you really matter to me.”

“Okay.” He said softly, his fingers playing with yours as he took your words to heart. Turning his head slightly, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let out a deep sigh. “And, for the record, you matter to me too.”

You didn’t reply, you didn’t have to. It was obvious that the feelings between the two of you were simultaneously infinitely complex and so simple. Hopefully there would be time to explore each and every nuance of what it meant to matter to each other, but for now, Steve was content to just sit beside you and feel.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #gndw fic

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loudblonde · 6 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Mafia AU (Chapter 15)

SummarySimon and (Y/N) get close before getting some unfortunate news

Warnings: Oral sex, mentioning of boundaries and people not respecting boundaries.

Author note:

Heyoooooo, it has been a while, things have honestly been mundane here, I just started school and bought Baldurs gate 3 which I have already gotten almost 400 hours in it since august, so sorry for not really posting but I kinda forgot midst school and gaming. I was stuck on where to take this story for a good few weeks, again so sorry. I cant in any way promise consistancy but I will try and post more often.

Thank you so much to the folk who were concerned and all your kind comments that you have left, it truly truly makes my day so much better whenever I read any comment you post.

Word count 1.9K

Ghost awoke feeling the spot in bed cold. He sighed, this was by far a too-common occurrence over these last 4 days, they would be leaving soon. (Y/N) would have Simon fully at his mercy again. Ghost knew he had to fight against it, and so did Simon, yet neither of him wanted to, no matter how much Ghost screamed and yelled that (Y/N) Price was nothing more than a slippery snake with venom-coated fangs, neither Simon nor Ghost was particularly eager to displease this new owner.

John Price himself had been strict but Simon always knew there was some part of him that regretted what had happened that night, it didn’t take a fool to see just how much he was being shown that he really shouldn’t be shown or seen, even for the bodyguard of John Price.

Simon opened his eyes as (Y/N) entered the bedroom, he sat up slightly, propped up on only his arms, his back ached from this position, but he wasn’t going to sit up further. “Did we get the go-ahead?” Simon asked, his voice deep and groggy, betraying any calmness he may have hoped to not show.

(Y/N) slipped into bed, Simon found himself lying down with his head on (Y/N)’s chest, he was far too comfortable in this position, far too exposed but that didn’t matter, this was… well he couldn’t call it safe, but it was nice.

“Hmm, we leave in the morning, I said goodbye to Arthur, he leaves on a small trip towards the store to stock up on bulk buys. He won’t be there in the morning.” (Y/N) said with a slight sigh.

“You sound almost sad at that, love,” Simon said.

“He is an old friend. He is my Soap.” (Y/N) said and Simon fully understood that, a bond he couldn’t explain to no other. Not romantic despite desperately trying it. He hoped (Y/N) wouldn’t be another Soap. “I am happy to see him and sad to leave, but we both know we won’t see each other much if at all after this.” (Y/N) said, disappointed. “Maybe at the opposite ends of a gun.”

“You think he will kill you?” Ghost asked.

“If he gets paid a lot, maybe, I won’t fault him for that. It’s the business.” (Y/N) said with a slight shrug. He absentmindedly ran a hand through Simon’s hair. “Your hair is getting long, I like it.”

Simon leaned into his touch, slowly getting lulled to sleep by it. When he awoke again, (Y/N) was sleeping as well. Simon closed his eyes and felt sleep embrace him for a few moments before (Y/N) woke him up.

Getting back onto the road meant one thing, medical attention. (Y/N) took over as driver and drove up towards northern Europe, (Y/N) took backroads and at times they slept in the car or in shitty cheap cash-only hotels, whatever the route was, they were not hurrying for time. It was almost a week later of this, when they finally arrived in their Swedish cabin, having almost completely blown past Denmark on the way up, only stopping a few moments for his wrist to be checked and taken care of. Simon looked to where (Y/N) was making a fire and yearned for them to get away from this life of running, but they were finally here, fully just alone and for once, without anything or anyone to worry about, a mutually distant place in a mutually distant country.

The cabin was small and comfortable, though without running water or electronics, they had a generator for their phones and a small camping stow, all they would ever need. Simon laid his head down on the pillow of the queen-sized bed, it was tugged in the corner of the small cabin, only one room, perfect for laying low.

(Y/N) glanced at him and smiled. Simon sat up as the other walked over, his arms found a way around his waist as he pulled him in. Simon kissed his stomach before looking up at him. “You haven't pushed yourself onto me,” Simon said softly.

“Why would I?” (Y/N) asked. “You are a person, no one deserves that and if I must cum, well I have a perfectly fine hand that can get me off.”

Simon chuckled at that, a small smile on his face. “You are making me more confident by the hour, that's a dangerous thing.”

This time it was (Y/N)’s turn to chuckle. He placed his arms around Simon’s shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, once I realise I am a handsome bastard then there is no stopping me,” Simon said.

“Well, that just means that my Simon will be the fiercest and most dangerous man around.” (Y/N) leaned down and kissed him passionately.

Simon groaned against the kiss. “You want me to be that? To be confident and not just another thing like that König you fucked?” He asked before standing up, his arms still wrapped firmly around (Y/N).

“Aye, I do. I love a man who knows what he wants and who isn’t afraid to either ask for it or take it.” (Y/N) said with a smirk.

“My hand is still busted,” Simon said before backing (Y/N) up against the wall, (Y/N)’s back hit it roughly before their lips met.

(Y/N) groaned lightly but returned the kiss, he didn’t fight this display of confidence that Simon was showing, despite (Y/N) being a power top, this confidence was very attractive and very different from what he had seen so far from Simon.

Their kiss lasted a while as they let hands roam and map each other's bodies, both seeking comfort in the movements.

(Y/N) pulled away and bit his lip before looking at Simon. “How far?”

Simon hesitated before walking over and sitting on the bed, he spread his legs. “I don’t feel comfortable with penetration….”

(Y/N) walked over and hummed. “Oral?” He knelt down, gently rubbing Simon’s legs. “You on the receiving end.”

“If I say stop at any point, will you stop?” The confidence washed away to vulnerability.

(Y/N)’s smile softened. “Of course, Si, if you ever get uncomfortable, even with kissing, tell me and I will stop. Even just holding your hand or touching you in any manner.”

Simon smiled at that and nodded. “Okay, let's try.”

(Y/N) reached up and cupped his cheeks before kissing him, his eyes fluttering close as he felt Simon respond to the kiss. He felt him kiss back, their lips parting easily, (Y/N)’s tongue explored Simon’s mouth, Simon didn’t fight against it, his trust in (Y/N) was unwavering.

(Y/N) pulled away only to kiss down Simon’s neck, leaving behind faint hickeys. They pulled apart for just long enough to discard the shirt and remove the belt. (Y/N) looked up at Simon as he palmed his growing erection, there were no signs of hesitance so far. “You are doing so well for me.” (Y/N) praised, his head tilting slightly before he undid the pants button. With some combined effort they managed to pull the pants and underwear down to Simon’s ankles. (Y/N) situated himself better before grabbing some lube from the bag next to the bed. He coated his hand before giving Simon’s cock a few strokes, getting it erect.

(Y/N) wasted no time before wrapping his lips around the head, he hollowed his cheeks out before slowly going all the way down, his tongue working expertly to hit all the right spots. Simon felt the wet warmth of (Y/N)’s mouth and moaned, his body was growing hotter by the second.

(Y/N) didn’t hold back, he bottomed out expertly, his nose hit Simon’s pubes, causing Simon to moan even louder, he was suddenly glad they were miles away from anyone or anything.

As (Y/N) moved up and down his tongue massaged every pleasurable part. He removed a hand from Simon’s thigh to fondle his balls, causing Simon to moan even louder.

Simon was in the clouds, no one had ever just focused on his pleasure, he placed a hand in (Y/N)’s hair, though he didn’t push down in any manner, the pleasure was too good, he was lost, no matter what he wanted to say it never came out.

Simon felt a familiar knot form in his stomach. He moaned even louder as he struggled to find his words to warn (Y/N).

(Y/N) saw him and hummed in satisfaction, ignoring his own throbbing cock. Simon groaned at that, causing (Y/N) to feel pride in his own ability to please Simon.

Simon didn’t hold out much longer, the vibrations, the warmth and the way (Y/N)’s tongue moved was pure bliss, he tapped (Y/N)’s head moments before he came. Simon’s salty hot cum sprayed down (Y/N)’s throat, which (Y/N) drank down without a problem. He pulled away and kissed Simon. “You did so well, I am so proud of you.”

Simon barely registered the words, he was still riding the high from cumming. “You are amazing.” He chuckled cum drunk.

(Y/N) chuckled and stood up, he helped Simon get dressed again before laying down with him. “Are you feeling less stressed?”

Simon nodded. “Yes, thank you and thank you for not doing anything I didn’t want.”

“Si, I would never, I may be an assassin, but I am not a monster.” (Y/N) said.

Simon chuckled and leaned his forehead against his. “You are painfully hard against my thigh, may I?” Simon asked.

(Y/N) hummed. “Sure, if you want.”

“I would love nothing more~,” Simon said.

—

The first few days of the cabin were quiet, almost exactly like their initial cabin but this time more intimate, neither man initiated anything sexual beyond those initial blow jobs, they were content with each other's company, and they needed nothing more. At least not for now. They had each other.

(Y/N) awoke to find his phone blaring the British national anthem. He rolled over, ignoring the way Simon groaned before picking up the phone. He hummed as sleep still had a hold on him. “(Y/N).”

‘Hey boy, we have this mess cleared up faster than we intended.’ His father's voice would normally have been a welcomed tone, yet it was like ice filled his veins. ‘Are you able to fly home as soon as possible?’

His mouth felt impossibly dry. “Yeah, no yeah, that’s good, I will see about booking some tickets home, we shouldn’t have any problems.” He said.

‘Good, we need to get you up to speed on everything.” Price said before hanging up, undoubtedly very busy despite it being ass o’clock in the morning. Simon wrapped his arms around (Y/N). “Hey?”

“We have to go home.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) laid down and wrapped his arms around Simon. “I don’t know the situation or how open we can be.” (Y/N) said before placing a hand on Simon’s cheek, his thumb brushed across the scars.

“No matter what happens, my loyalty is to you,” Simon said, fully just closing his eyes. He had thought there was no other choice but Price, that he wasn’t worthy of living unless he served Price and attempted to work off his debt, yet (Y/N) had branded Simon as his own with the necklace and had shown him more kindness then he had ever experienced before, no matter how much Simon knew that in the end he was simply being used, he was still going to worship the ground (Y/N) walked on, he would burn the world for (Y/N) if asked, fully loyal like a dog to its master.

(Y/N) smiled at that, he kissed Simon’s forehead. “And I will do anything in my power to protect you, Si. I won’t let my father hurt you.”

“I love you too,” Simon said softly.

“Now, let's get some breakfast and catch a plane.” (Y/N) chuckled. “We can handle whatever England throws at us, no matter what, we have survived everything so far, eh?”

Simon chuckled. “Yes, yes we can.”

Tag list

@rasberry-jupiter

@one-green-frog

#cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod men x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x male reader #simon riley x you #male reader #loudblondes cod mafia au #mafia au #simon ghost riley #fanfiction #call of duty

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probablyspooky · 1 year

Text

Message Received (Predator x Fem! Reader Guardians of the Galaxy) Pt 2

tag list uwu: @the-official-slasher-fucker

Last Next

Knelt down as if you were a table, knees placed upon uneven stones as an added level of pain to your punishment. Above your head you held a tray of lavish sweets and treats, you were being used as furniture until you proved yourself worthy to even serve the Grandmaster. Your body ached with pain, but fear and adrenaline kept you from shaking even harder than you were, god forbid you were holding a drink, then the Grandmaster would truly notice how wobbly his temporary table truly was.

The day was going just as any day was, the stadium was filled to the brim with those whos lives weren’t being used, those who were free. You could see the arena from your position as your head was tilted down, using the top part of your hair to keep the tray steady. Looking down into the arena you could see todays gladiators fighting to the death for the entertainment of anyone nearby.

The Grandmaster was currently chatting away with whatever reporter or loser who came to bask in his glory, his hideous shadow that kept others below him. Though people were free around him, there is the fear that he will just take you deep within anyone who dares come closer enough.

“Any plans for todays matches Grandmaster?”, the reporter asked, using a tablet writing down his words as if they were pure gold.

“Oh not much,” the Grandmaster chuckled, taking a treat off that tray you held, “I hope for one of my better trained pets to enter the arena today, you know his species actually fights for honor, so it’s kind of....hmm.. interesting to watch him fight for a blood sport like this”

That venom in his words, trying to make you break so you would be punished again, but you held strong, you needed to be strong, if you were punished again, surely it would affect him as well, and you did not want him to suffer along with you.

You whimpered as more pain set into your body, the gladiators cheered as another one has met their final blow. The winner is rewarded with a meal that isn’t just kitchen scraps, perhaps Grandmaster would even have it warmed.

“Oh boy, another pet gone,” Grandmaster sighed, and waved his hand towards one of his servants, this one is particular was in charge of sending in the next round of entertainment, “Send in those clowns for a bit”

The servant, whose name was Ryne, nodded, and swiftly turned, grabbing one of many, large velvet cords that lined the back wall of the showing box you were in. Taking the large cord in his hands, he pulled it hard, causing one of the bells to ring, this bell in particular rings to let the clowns know they need to put on a show for the crowd.

With sad eyes you watched him get rotten food thrown at him, sand kicked into his eyes, his dreads pulled, and his body cut because his blood color shines bright against metal.

Tears welt up in your eyes watching your love be tortured like this. Yet another set of eyes were watching you, the evil eyes of the grandmaster as he took enjoyment in your suffering.

He raised his hand, as to slap the tray in your hands away, but then before he could send the signals from his brain to make his body move, the grand doors to the viewing box opened, and in came the messenger who worked there, same as you.

“What?” Grandmaster groaned, turning his attention away from you.

“A ship has landed in the docking bay, the Guardians are here, and they’re looking for an audience with you sir...”, the messenger replied, standing straight and tall.

“Guardians huh?”, he scoffed, taking the tray off your hands, and dumping it onto the floor, “Did they say what they’re here for?”

“They said they received a message”

When the last breath of his sentence was said, your hair as grasped, and your head yanked back. You were forced into a semi standing and falling position, you cried, as the pain from your knees erupted, mixing with the main emanating from your scalp, it all was too much to bare.

“You little-” The Grandmaster started, but he was cut off.

“Hello Grandmaster,” a forceful voice started, many footsteps could be heard entering the room, and you felt the cool touch of the floor hit your body, as you were released from his grasp.

You opened your eyes to see who stopped you potential death from transpiring. A woman, green of flesh a Zen-Whoberi, who stood very tall and sure of herself, accompanying here was a human man, red jacket, who looked a bit aloof, a small walking talking racoon, a Kylosian, who was standing behind an insectoid woman, and lastly with them Groot.

The woman started, “I am Gamora, and this is Quil, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, and Groot, we are responding to a distress signal we received from someone on this planet, from specifically within your arena walls.”

“Oh, I see,” Grandmaster replied, covering his voice with a thickness of sugar, “I can not think of anyone who is in danger here so it must be a mistake on someone’s part probably. Sorry for wasting your time but you really should be-:

“With all due respect your...grand masterness?,” Quill interrupted, “ The message was clear enough to let us know that they are here, and we’re not leaving without them both.”

“Both?” Grandmaster pondered, tilting his head in your direction,” I can’t think of anybody who would possible be together here, all my friends here are criminals you see”

“What about her?” Drax stated pointing directly in your direction, “We walked in and you were handling her like she was a plaything, on my planet she would be a plaything, she's small and easy to move.”

“Oh (y/n) here is one of my favorites, my little bird you see, I’ve had her only a couple months now but she’s like family, we just rough-house a bit you see”

If his lies were flames from hell, the room would melt from the heat of his lies. You wanted to cry, you wanted to run towards your heroes, but there you stay, knelt in the bowing position, obediently, like a dog.

The Grandmaster started rambling about how wonderful he is, and how he takes these horrible ‘criminals’, and allows them to fight for their freedom and then some. He gathered the main group to his viewing box window to show the rodeo clowns currently cleaning up their mess of rotten fruit, props, and cleaning the blood off of themselves.

Gamora was no fool, she grew up everyday thinking of every possible way someone would try to ruin her life, she knew a shattered soul when she saw one, while the main cast were listening to the lies of the Grandmaster, she pushed Mantis’s hand towards you.

The woman with the large round black eyes came to you, you didn’t dare look her in the eyes. you felt her hand touch the skin on the back of your neck, causing you to yelp out in fear, contact couldn’t have been longer than a second.

The Grandmaster was a narcissist, caught up in talking about how perfect and how generous he was to the pets he kept, but he was of course interrupted by you, you were really becoming a thorn in his side, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of you with his own hands, of course too messy...

Turning his attention to Mantis who jumped back from you, she looked embarrassed to having been caught. Gamora gave her an aggravated glare.

The Grandmaster gave the cast a place to stay for the night, and as the large doors shut behind them the Grandmaster turned his attention back to you, grabbing your face and dragging you off your feet he began to yell into your face.

“What did you tell that girl!?”

“Nothing sir!” you cried

Throwing you to the ground, he began to calm himself, thinking ‘rationally’, he only heard you yelp, unknowing that Mantis can read minds by touch, he flicked his hair back and composed himself.

“Very well...you want to cause me problems little bird?” he smiled, that toothy white grin,” I’m gonna make you tomorrows show starter”

With that he clapped his hands and you were taken to a cell, in complete solitude, there was no way out, no windows, and a door that disappeared with magic. You began to cry into the metal floor, begging for some sort of miracle.

The Guardians were taken to their rooms, which were rather lavish, Quill began to sprawl out into the bed.

“Well thats that” he said, taking in the freshness of the blankets and pillows that were placed upon the bed, “No one to save here”

“Shut it” Gamora shouted, turning her attention to Mantis,” What did you get out of her?”

“Not much..” Mantis ponder, bringing her finger to her lips in a remembering type face, “She is trapped here with her husband, who was currently in the arena when we arrived, but I didn’t get a name nor his face. But there was something weird about her thoughts...”

“I got an image of the arena when we came” Rocket said, clicking his eye piece a hologram of the arena was shining across the center of the room,” We have 5 clowns total in this jumbled mess, a large praying mantis like our own, yet less human more bug, then this Xandarian guy good looks , good muscle too, then we have the Kronan, rock guy not husband material, a Kree weird that he’s here, and oh!” he stopped

“Oh?” Quill asked, “What does ‘oh’ mean?”

“He actually managed to capture a yautja!’ Rocket exclaimed,

“What’s a Yaujta?” Quill asked, looking around as if this is uncommon knowledge but everyone returned their glances because they already knew.

“A Yautja is a interstellar hunter, they hunt all across the universe for glory and honor!” Drax crackled, “ Seems the one here is probably nothing but an un-blooded outcast!”

“We’re wasting time,” Gamora shouted, creaking the door open looking around to see any guards were currently patrolling the halls, or any spies were trying to get an earful of their conversation, “Rocket I need you to find out where they keep these clowns, I believe our little appearance here has put (y/n) in danger of the grandmaster, so we have to act fast if we’re going to save them both.”

Rocket grumbled and took a plug out from the back of his eye piece and plugged it into a socket on the table that was being used to power the lamp. Downloading the date from deep within the computers that are hooked up to the same electrical grid.

“Bottom level, he’s got a few cells down there but this one is the biggest, he’s got one or two smaller ones, but they’re on the far side of the compound, probably for trouble makers..” Rocket informed, sliding his fingers across the small tablet he held that displayed the grid.

“It’s probably safe to assume that (y/n) is probably in one of those if he does keep his trouble makers in there” Mantis spoke, her antennae twirling.

“Right” Quill said, trying to take back his role of leader, “Let’s wait till night fall, we’ll climb in from the side entrance in the main arena, get this guy, his girl and be out of here by morning”

They all agreed in unison, taking their respective beds and resting before this mission tonight.

In the male cell deep in the bowels of the compound, he sat there, pushing his finger in the hole, waiting for your small delicate one to curl into his like it has every night since you came to this place. Yet it never came.

A deep hole began to drag through his chest, fearing the worse he groaned, much to the annoyance of some of his cellmates. Who all began to stand up to tell this dark figure in the corner to pipe down and not to be a baby and cry.

None of them expected a seven foot tall beast of muscle to call out a battle cry and began to fight a few into the night,

Within solitary you had cried yourself to sleep, your tears causing your eyes to crust, your small frame in the corner, and your (hair type) clung to your face like glue. Memories of happier times began to replay in your dreams

You sat upon a log outside your makeshift home, a cave with wood for a door, some pots and jugs for storage, racks with tools, and dried meats. Watching your mate tear apart wood with his hands for fire, his body stained with the blood of the beast he had slayed for nourishment for you and him. His mandibles clicking together as he worked on his chores for the day. You couldn’t help but smile at him. You had been together for 3 years now, you met on your home planet, even though your species and his rarely ever mix, the two of you hit it off when you had nursed him back to health when he was found on your home planet, wounded. Typically he wouldn’t go for someone like you, as he could be much older, unknowing of the age difference between you two, he wouldn’t want to stick around in a typical situation, but he found himself being pulled back to you. Eventually he presented you with a skull of the strongest beast on your planet as a offering for your hand. He was willing to go against what was normal for him to be with you, you accepted.

Yet here you were, probably set to die tomorrow, the cold fear of death loomed over you, but the small burning ember of hope still burned within your chest.

#predator #predator x reader #guardians of the galaxy #yautja x reader #yautja

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jkabbi · 2 months

Text

bewitched | chapter 04

╰┈➤summary: Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.

╰┈➤pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

╰┈➤genre: cf2l, fluff, angst, magic au

╰┈➤warnings: cursing, emotional cheating?), mature content (sex scene (not to explicit🤨)) , mention of depression, mention of illness, drowning and asfixia.

word count. 13k

╰┈➤note; hello everyone! here's another chapter (a bit shorter, im sorry😓) this one was a little difficult to finish because I had a hate-love relationship with it😔but im excited for the next one!! i promise it will be good🤭

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Jungkook's sense of emptiness was a constant companion, a silent weight he carried despite the accolades and admiration from others.

It wasn't a mere existential crisis or a longing for attention—it was a genuine, inexplicable feeling of incompleteness that lingered within him.

Despite his successes—winning competitions, garnering attention for his looks, excelling in various fields—Jungkook couldn't shake off this lingering void. It was like trying to remember a forgotten memory, searching for something elusive in the depths of his being.

He attempted to articulate his feelings, to convey the depth of his emptiness to others, but it seemed futile. Jungkook always tried to explain that it was like forgetting something very important. As if you went to a room to look for something and you didn't remember what to look for.

But no one ever understood it.

People offered well-intentioned advice, urging him to seek out emotions, to dive into new experiences, convinced that these would be the antidote to his emptiness.

Yet, despite his efforts to fill the void with achievements, relationships, and adventures, Jungkook remained haunted by this persistent emptiness. At 27, he found himself still grappling with the same profound sense of lack, yearning for something he couldn't quite define.

Despite his relentless pursuit of fulfillment, Jungkook found himself continuously coming up short. He delved into every avenue available to him, immersing himself in a whirlwind of sensations, experiences, and encounters. From mastering various sports to experimenting with different looks, from forming fleeting connections with numerous partners to exploring new hobbies and traversing the globe, Jungkook left no stone unturned in his quest for meaning.

Yet, despite his efforts, the void within him remained stubbornly untouched. Each adrenaline-fueled adventure, each fleeting romance, each new skill acquired only served to accentuate the hollowness he felt inside. It was a paradoxical existence, as he chased after elusive fulfillment without truly understanding what he sought.

His family, grappling with their own grief over the loss of Jungkook's father, attributed his emptiness to this profound loss. While Jungkook certainly mourned his father deeply and experienced waves of sadness and desperation, he knew instinctively that his sense of emptiness transcended this singular event. It was a void that predated his father's passing, a silent ache that had accompanied him throughout his life, long before he could even articulate its presence.

Despite the love and support of his family, Jungkook carried this burden alone, grappling with the enigma of his own emptiness. And so, he continued his relentless pursuit, driven by an insatiable longing for something he couldn't name, hoping against hope that someday he would finally find what he had been searching for all along.

Despite his therapist's attempt to analyze his emptiness as stemming from insatiability, Jungkook couldn't quite reconcile with that diagnosis. He knew deep down that his longing wasn't simply a desire for more, an insatiable hunger for something beyond his grasp. He had cultivated a life that many would envy—a successful career, a stable relationship with Jiwoo, and a comfortable lifestyle. Yet, despite these external markers of success, the void within him persisted.

Jungkook had ticked off all the boxes of conventional happiness—graduating from a prestigious university with honors, securing a well-paying job as a game designer while also working at a technology company, and maintaining a loving relationship with Jiwoo. On paper, his life seemed picture-perfect. But for Jungkook, happiness remained elusive, always just beyond his reach. It wasn't a matter of wealth or fame, as he had achieved both to some extent. Nor was it a lack of love, for he knew Jiwoo cared for him deeply. Yet, despite Jiwoo's affection, Jungkook couldn't shake off the gnawing doubt that perhaps love alone wasn't enough to fill the void that consumed him from within.

In the quiet moments of introspection, Jungkook found himself grappling with the unsettling realization that perhaps what he sought lay beyond the realm of conventional success and societal expectations. It wasn't material wealth or external validation that he craved, but rather a deeper, more profound sense of purpose and belonging—a connection to something greater than himself that had eluded him thus far.

As Jungkook reflected on his relationship with Jiwoo, he couldn't shake the unsettling truth that her love, though genuine and unwavering, couldn't mend the deep-seated void within him. Despite his genuine affection for her, he grappled with the guilt of knowing that her love alone wasn't enough to fill the emptiness that consumed him.

When Jungkook first met Jiwoo, he hasn’t initially considered Jiwoo as a potential partner. In fact, Jungkook hadn't been in many serious relationships before. His past experiences with relationships had been fleeting and superficial, often ending abruptly when the other party developed deeper feelings that he couldn't reciprocate. He typically opted for one-night stands or occasional dates when he felt lonely, but these never lasted long because he couldn't reciprocate the other person's feelings. He always made sure to end things respectfully when he realized the other person was developing deeper emotions. Despite his casual approach to relationships, Jungkook was mindful not to toy with people's feelings.

It wasn't until two years later, during his time in Europe while he was on a journey to improve his mental health, that Jungkook began to see Jiwoo differently. They had initially met at Namjoon's birthday party, but it wasn't until encountering her at an exhibition that Jungkook started to notice her in a new light.

During their conversation that night, Jungkook found Jiwoo to be kind and engaging. They exchanged numbers, and Jungkook began to communicate with her whenever he had a signal while traveling. Over time, Jiwoo asked him to join him on his trips, and Jungkook, feeling the weight of loneliness on his heart, accepted, hoping her companionship would alleviate his solitude.

Her kindness and companionship offered a reprieve from the loneliness that had plagued him for so long, and he found himself drawn to her warmth and understanding.

Their travels together fostered a deepening bond, culminating in Jungkook's decision to ask Jiwoo to be her boyfriend, and eventually, to marry him. In those moments of bliss and joy, he allowed himself to believe that perhaps he had finally found the missing piece of his puzzle.

But as time passed and the initial euphoria of their love began to fade, Jungkook couldn't shake off the nagging doubt that lingered within him. He wondered if he had made the right decision, if his love for Jiwoo was enough to sustain them both in the long run. Despite his genuine affection for her, he couldn't silence the voice in his head that whispered of his unfulfilled longing, the void that remained untouched by their love.

It wasn't that he regretted Jiwoo or their relationship, but rather that he occasionally doubted the timing and spontaneity of his decisions.

These doubts surfaced during conversations with his close friends, Jimin and Taehyung. While Jimin offered understanding and reassurance, Taehyung's reactions were more challenging. Taehyung questioned the speed and gravity of Jungkook's choices, expressing concerns about making such significant decisions without thorough consideration.

Their discussions often led to heated debates, with Taehyung's points leaving an imprint on Jungkook's thoughts. One argument that lingered in Jungkook's mind was that he and Jiwoo had only experienced each other's company as tourists, never truly living together in a settled environment. Taehyung emphasized the potential challenges of transitioning from occasional travel partners to full-time cohabitants, suggesting that their familiarity might not necessarily translate into long-term compatibility.

Upon returning home and immersing himself in a new video game project, Jungkook saw an opportunity to address Taehyung's concerns. By inviting Jiwoo to move in, Jungkook aimed to prove his friend wrong and demonstrate his commitment to their relationship.

During the two months they had been living together—initially at Taehyung's house while they searched for their own place, and now in their own home—they hadn't encountered any major issues. However, their first significant disagreement arose when they were deciding on their new living space.

Jiwoo, coming from a privileged background, preferred a more luxurious lifestyle and desired to reside near the city center in a spacious and upscale building. On the other hand, Jungkook didn't share the same inclination. It wasn't solely about the cost for him; he prioritized comfort and practicality over extravagance. He found the idea of living in a grandiose, expensive building uncomfortable.

This disparity in preferences led to their first major discussion as a couple. While Jiwoo's upbringing influenced her desire for opulence, Jungkook's grounded nature guided his preference for a more modest and cozy living environment.

One day, while wandering beyond Taehyung's upscale neighborhood into a less lavish area, Jungkook experienced an unfamiliar sensation—a warm feeling in his chest, a sense of familiarity that drew him onward. Intrigued by this inexplicable emotion, he followed its intangible trail, eventually arriving at an aged street.

Despite its unassuming appearance, Jungkook felt an inexplicable attraction to the place.

As they explored further, they stumbled upon a small apartment nestled among the aging buildings. It was modest, no more than six floors, and bore the signs of its age, yet Jungkook felt an undeniable pull towards it. Jiwoo, though less enthused, followed Jungkook's lead as they approached the apartment. It was there, upon seeing the interior, that a small spark ignited within Jungkook.

However, Jiwoo couldn't share Jungkook's enthusiasm. She questioned why they should settle for a place that seemed outdated and lacked the amenities of more modern apartments, especially considering their financial means.

Their disagreement escalated into their first significant argument as a couple. Despite viewing multiple properties, Jungkook couldn't shake the desire to call this particular apartment home. Jiwoo struggled to comprehend his attachment to the place when there were seemingly better options available.

In the end, Jungkook's determination won out. He couldn't envision living anywhere else but in that old apartment, driven by an indescribable sense of belonging. Reluctantly, Jiwoo relented, agreeing to move into the apartment despite her reservations.

Despite the apparent flaws of the apartment—the peeling walls, moldy ceiling, cramped space, and lack of parking—Jungkook found himself inexplicably drawn to it. He couldn't quite comprehend why he felt such a strong attraction, especially considering its evident shortcomings. Yet, despite his reservations, he proceeded to sign the papers and purchase the place, driven by a gut feeling he couldn't shake.

There was an air of normalcy surrounding the place until one fateful day when Jungkook unexpectedly crossed paths with you, a friend of Jimin and Yoongi. Despite hearing about her in passing conversations, Jungkook had never paid much attention to you. However, from the moment he laid eyes on you, he found himself inexplicably drawn to your presence.

Their first encounter took place at a casual barbecue hosted by Jimin. Although Jungkook could technically say he had met you, he hadn't exchanged a single word with you. In fact, he couldn't even manage a simple greeting before you vanished into thin air the moment they arrived. This mysterious disappearance only fueled Jungkook's curiosity.

The second encounter occurred entirely by chance. While Jungkook was exercising in the park, Bam, his loyal companion, led him straight to you. It was then that Jungkook had the opportunity to observe you properly for the first time. Standing there, short in stature with cropped hair, your attire was unconventional yet suited you perfectly. However, what truly captivated Jungkook were your eyes—neither strikingly colored nor unusual, but undeniably beautiful. They were warm, expansive orbs that seemed to hold an irresistible allure, drawing him in.

Initiating a conversation with you proved challenging, mainly due to your evident shyness—or so Jungkook surmised. You constantly averted your gaze and fidgeted nervously, shifting your hands and legs from one position to another. Although your interaction was brief, the memory of that encounter lingered with Jungkook, accompanied by the lingering scent of flowers that seemed to cling to him long after you had parted ways.

Subsequent meetings were equally serendipitous. One took place at your flower shop, where you were going to create a floral arrangement for his upcoming wedding. The other encounter was decidedly more peculiar—it occurred in Jungkook's own building, revealing that you were his neighbor all along. Once again, it was Bam who facilitated the unexpected reunion.

Despite Jungkook's busy schedule that often kept him away from home, he occasionally glimpsed you during these chance encounters—whether it was while you were taking out the trash or returning home from work. Each sighting only served to deepen Jungkook's intrigue, sparking a growing desire to unravel the mystery surrounding you.

Hence, Jungkook found himself grappling with a perplexing dilemma. Despite the limited depth of your conversations, he couldn't shake the persistent thoughts of you from his mind. Admitting to himself that you were indeed nice, he couldn't fathom why you occupied his thoughts so relentlessly.

However, it was the pivotal moment during his welcome party that pushed Jungkook to the brink of confusion and inner turmoil. As both of you reached down to retrieve the fallen sundial from the ground, your hands accidentally brushed against each other. In that fleeting touch, Jungkook experienced a surge of electricity coursing through his body, igniting every nerve ending with an inexplicable energy. Yet, it wasn't just the physical sensation that left him reeling—it was the profound connection forged in the brief meeting of gazes with your captivating eyes. In that moment, a wave of warmth washed over him, accompanied by a strange but undeniable sense of belonging that enveloped his entire being.

Unable to rationalize or comprehend the depth of his emotions, Jungkook was left bewildered and conflicted. He couldn't explain the overwhelming sensation nor could he understand why it resonated with him so profoundly. All he knew was that this inexplicable connection was the closest he had ever come to finding solace for his restless soul.

Yet, as quickly as the moment arrived, it was eclipsed by an overwhelming wave of guilt and shame. He had a fiancée for heaven's sake! He was a taken man! He couldn't feel that way about another person.

After all, he was engaged to Jiwoo—bound by commitment and duty. Consumed by remorse, Jungkook couldn't even bring himself to meet the gaze of Jiwoo or Daisy that night.

In the days that followed, Jungkook found himself ensnared in a relentless cycle of torment. The name "Daisy" echoed incessantly in his mind like a haunting refrain, refusing to be silenced. Even during the daylight hours, he struggled to quell the intrusive thoughts and tumultuous emotions that plagued his conscience. Yet, it was during the oppressive darkness of night that his inner turmoil reached its zenith.

Each night proved to be a battleground for Jungkook's sanity. In the hushed stillness of darkness, his subconscious mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid dreams of the girl with the mesmerizing eyes. These nocturnal visions, though fleeting, held him captive in their embrace, wrenching him from the comforting embrace of slumber and thrusting him into a realm of turmoil and confusion.

The weight of guilt and shame bore down on Jungkook like a suffocating cloak, leaving him feeling utterly debased and tainted for indulging in thoughts of another woman—especially while lying beside his unsuspecting fiancée, Jiwoo. The internal struggle raged on unabated, tormenting him with each passing night, as he grappled with the moral implications of his forbidden desires and the devastating impact they could have on his relationship.

As Jungkook grappled with the overwhelming emotions and turmoil consuming his mind, he was determined to prove to himself that his attraction to Daisy was merely a fleeting infatuation—a passing phase that would dissipate with time. Thus, he found himself engaging in an intimate encounter with his fiancée, Jiwoo, with fervor bordering on desperation.

As the heat of the day and the intensity of their physical exertions mingled, beads of sweat formed on Jungkook's brow, his focus solely on the rhythmic movements and the impassioned sounds emanating from Jiwoo beneath him. Despite their passionate union, Jungkook's efforts were marred by an inability to reach climax, a frustrating realization that only added to his mounting frustration and stress.

Desperate to salvage the moment and find release, Jungkook attempted to stimulate himself further, his gaze lingering on Jiwoo's exposed form, her vulnerability laid bare before him. Yet, even this visual stimulus failed to evoke the desired response as his mind betrayed him, inundating his senses with memories and sensations associated with Daisy—the intoxicating scent of daisies, the golden highlights in her hair glistening in the sunlight, the infectious laughter that illuminated her face and revealed a subtle dimple in her cheek.

Frustration boiled over into anger as Jungkook's thoughts spiraled out of control, his mental image of Daisy mocking him relentlessly. With a growl of frustration, he redoubled his efforts, thrusting with renewed vigor, determined to drown out the intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind.

Jiwoo, he reminded himself, I'm fucking Jiwoo, my fiancee, focus.

He found himself jolted from the depths of his passion as Jiwoo's delicate hands traced the contours of his firm abdomen. Her voice, a melodic symphony of need and desire, pierced through the haze of her arousal. "Kook, are you close? I'm so sensitive," she moaned, her words mingling with the air thick with anticipation.

As Jungkook reluctantly eased his fervor, the room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the subtle creak of the door. It was a sound he might have missed had he not momentarily relented. Astonishingly, it seemed Jiwoo had also detected the intrusion.

"The door?" she inquired, her eyes half-closed in the throes of pleasure. Jungkook, torn between frustration and curiosity, welcomed the diversion.

The door's insistent rapping shattered the stillness once more, less pronounced than before. With a sense of urgency, Jungkook withdrew from Jiwoo's embrace, hastily reaching for the first garment he could find – his boxers.

Breathless and drenched in sweat, he swung the door open abruptly.

It seemed as though the universe itself was playing a cruel joke on him. There you stood, behind his door, your wide, beautiful eyes widened even further in surprise at the unexpected encounter. Quickly averting your gaze from his naked form, you seemed flustered, your cheeks tinted with a rosy blush.

Jungkook, finally regaining his composure, couldn't ignore the rapid thudding of his heart at the sight of your embarrassment. Offering a sheepish apology, he hurried to find something to cover himself with before returning to face you. Your nervous demeanor didn't escape his notice as you fidgeted with the rings on your fingers and shuffled your feet anxiously.

"I'm sorry. I should have covered up before answering the door. Please, tell me what's going on," Jungkook urged, his gaze softening as he observed your shy and embarrassed expression.

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words amidst your flustered state. "Um... there's... I mean... it's just..." you stammered, your cheeks growing warmer. If Jungkook's mind hadn't been so preoccupied with the chaos unfolding before him, he might have found your reaction endearing.

Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook prompted you to continue, his curiosity piqued. "Your dog is in my house!" you exclaimed, the words tumbling out in a rush. However, as you noticed the forcefulness of your tone, embarrassment washed over you, and you quickly amended, "I mean... Bam wandered into my house, and he doesn't seem to want to leave."

Jungkook's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" he echoed, his own astonishment mirroring yours.

Drinking wine during the day had never been your usual practice, but given the gravity of the situation, it seemed necessary. There you were, seated on the floor, your short, tousled hair pulled up into a messy bun, your glasses slipping down your nose, surrounded by over twenty ancient magic books strewn across the living room. Stress consumed you, evident in the way your hands trembled as you pored over the texts, desperately seeking a solution. Salem, your cat, had turned on the radio, filling the air with noise to drown out the sound of your internal turmoil. Kang's unexpected appearance had sent your world into a tailspin, enveloping you in a suffocating blanket of fear. Not even Salem's typically sarcastic remarks could distract you. Your mind swirled with endless scenarios of potential disaster, making sleep an elusive luxury. Yoongi had taken notice, choosing to spend more time at your house in an effort to provide support during these trying times.

Yoongi was deeply affected by your emotional breakdown, and upon your return home that fateful night, you unloaded the weight of your past onto him. In a torrent of words, you vomited out every painful memory and trauma, while he struggled to comprehend and prevent you from slipping into another state of distress. His response was simple yet comforting: he patted your back in silent support and refilled your glass of wine.

Having now glimpsed the entirety of your life story, Yoongi made a solemn promise to guard your secrets closely. From then on, discussions about your past were veiled in coded language whenever others were present. The topic of Kang loomed large in your conversations, prompting heated debates and, at times, the need to restrain Yoongi from storming out of your home to confront him directly during gatherings at Tae's house.

Together, you and Yoongi devised a strategy to shield Kang from the truth: Yoongi would feign ignorance of Kang's true identity and your own, allowing Kang to believe that he was just another oblivious mortal. It was a calculated decision, born out of the understanding that it was safer for Kang to remain in the dark, rather than risk his wrath by exposing the full extent of Yoongi knowledge.

That’s why you had spent the entire afternoon with your head buried in ancient tomes, flipping through pages in various languages, searching for a spell to protect yourself from Kang or confront him if necessary. The books, worn and weathered, held the key to your safety in their yellowed pages. However, the pact you had made with the priest of the Church of the Night forbade you from seeking aid from your former coven, leaving you to rely solely on your own resources.

Feeling the strain in your hand, you decided it was time for a break. You opened the large window in your living room, letting in a rush of fresh air, before making your way to the bathroom to splash water on your face. Meanwhile, Salem was engrossed in conversation with members of some sort of animal wizard club on your computer.

As you stood before the mirror, rubbing your temples, you heard a muffled noise from beyond the closed bathroom door, isolated from the sounds of the radio. Perplexed, you paused, straining to discern the source of the disturbance. The sound repeated, growing stronger with each thud against the wall. Intrigued, you pressed your ear against the barrier, only to recoil in horror at the unmistakable sounds emanating from the other side.

The moans—the intimate, unmistakable moans—sent a wave of nausea crashing over you. Jungkook's voice, a familiar tone from your youth, mingled with another, higher-pitched and sweet, belonging to Jiwoo. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, leaving your heart lodged firmly in your throat. The urge to vomit surged, and you quickly withdrew from the wall as if it were searing hot, unable to bear another moment of the painful revelation unfolding on the other side.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as jealousy consumed you whole. That should be me, you thought bitterly, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. After all, you were the one who had known Jungkook first, the one who shared his first kiss and his first intimate moments. You were the one who had been there to comfort him in his darkest hours and share in his joyous triumphs.

Leaning heavily against the sink, you squeezed your hands into fists, grappling with the painful truth that it was you who had ultimately let him slip away. The memory of casting that spell to erase yourself from his memories haunted you, a decision born of fear. Yet, deep down, you knew it was the right thing to do. You couldn't bear the thought of holding him back or putting him in danger because of your life.

It's fair, a voice in your head reasoned, reminding you that Jungkook deserved the chance to move on and find happiness with someone who wasn't you. And Jiwoo seemed to embody everything good and deserving of his love.

Scolding yourself for indulging in self-pity, you forced yourself to confront the reality of the situation. Jungkook was a good person, and he deserved the best—even if that meant it wasn't with you. With a deep breath, you pushed aside your feelings of envy and self-doubt.

He’s fine you reminded yourself That’s all that matters

After a few moments of mental chastisement, you emerged from the bathroom.

Your mental state had deteriorated to the point where reality blurred with the figments of your imagination. As you stood in the middle of your living room, blinking in confusion, you couldn't shake the feeling that the Doberman sitting on your couch, sniffing at your cushions, was nothing more than a hallucination. It looked uncannily like Jungkook's beloved dog, Bam, but you couldn't trust your senses anymore.

Before you could fully process the situation, the puppy noticed you and bounded towards you, tail wagging furiously. Caught off guard, you found yourself tumbling to the ground as the exuberant canine showered you with playful licks. Disoriented but unable to resist, you laughed weakly and attempted to push yourself upright, only to find the puppy still atop you, eagerly seeking attention.

"It's okay, buddy," you reassured the puppy, struggling to regain your composure. "I just need to get up, and then I'll give you all the attention you want." With some effort, you managed to extricate yourself from the playful pup's grasp and rose to your feet. The puppy, now sitting expectantly on the couch, wagged its tail in anticipation.

Moved by the puppy's innocence and enthusiasm, you couldn't help but feel a surge of tenderness towards the puppy. Gesturing for it to stay put, you settled down beside it on the couch, running your hand over its head and marveling at the softness of its fur. The puppy leaned into your touch, emitting a contented sigh that melted away some of the tension coiled within you.

Then, your consciousness returned.

What is Bam doing here? You couldn't help but wonder, "How did he get into the house?" Your answer came when you noticed the window you had opened moments ago, revealing the fire escape linking your apartment to Jungkook's. Then came the question: Should I leave him? It's not a problem here, but Jungkook might worry. The issue is, Jungkook is preoccupied with his girlfriend—very much so. To avoid heartache again, you decide to drop Bam off home in about half an hour, to not interrupt the activities of his human dad. After some affectionate moments with Bam, you leave him on your couch and return to the floor to continue your investigation. However, your plan falls apart as Bam prefers to join you, jumping off the couch and onto the papers and books. Hastily removing him from the mess, you take a deep breath. Meeting his eyes, you point to the scattered books. "Bam, this is important. You can't sit on top of this." The puppy seems to understand, sitting up straight next to you, his big honey eyes open and curious. "I'll leave you by my side, but you have to be a good boy, okay?" Apparently, he understands, as he stays still next to you, lying on your lap.

The two of you remained in that tense standoff until Salem emerged from your room, clutching the broken sundial. Bam perked up at Salem's entrance, wagging his tail, but as soon as he caught sight of the sundial, he leaped to his feet and began barking fiercely, positioning himself protectively in front of you. Salem recoiled in horror, scrambling up onto the bookcase. "What is this creature doing here?!" he exclaimed.

You attempted to soothe Bam, gently touching his back, but the puppy refused to calm down. Unfortunately, you were too weak to use a charm to pacify him. Bam continued to bark and growl, fixated on the sundial lying on the ground.

"Bam, it's alright! We're not in danger!" you reassured him, but Bam persisted in his aggressive behavior. You glanced at Salem, who was watching you intently.

"You'll have to return it. I've figured out a way to track that magic and identify the spell, but we can't do it if the canine doesn't stop being hostile!"

"But Salem!" you pleaded silently, not wanting to go to Jeon Jungkook's house.

The cat remained firm, shaking his head. "No, no, no. We must perform the spell now. Get up and leave the mutt at home."

Reluctantly, you agreed, knowing that understanding Kang's enchantment on the sundial was crucial.

Resigned to the situation, you took hold of the angry puppy by his leash. Surprisingly, he wasn't aggressive towards you, but his sheer bulk made it impossible for you to budge him.

"Bam! Let's go!" you urged, but he paid no attention. You strained against his weight, but your feeble hands lacked the strength to move him.

"Call Jungkook," Salem advised. "You won't be able to get him out. He's hell-bent on protecting you."

You shot Salem a glare that could have frozen lava and reluctantly left Bam in his place. Gathering your courage, you stepped out of your apartment.

As you stood outside your neighbor's door, you could only hope that he had already concluded his intimate encounter with his girlfriend. Hesitantly, you reached out to knock, then drew your hand back. Salem's impatient cry of "Just do it now!" spurred you to cast aside your hesitation and rap sharply on the door.

Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for what might come next. Nervously, you fidgeted with your sandals, the seconds stretching into eternity as you waited for a response.

When none came, you knocked again, determined to push through your anxiety and see this through to the end, despite the urge to flee.

But amidst your nervousness, you couldn't shake the feeling that the universe was conspiring against you. Hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, and the door swung open to reveal Jungkook standing there, clad only in boxers. Flustered, you averted your gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Apologizing profusely, Jungkook darted back inside, reemerging moments later in a hastily donned sports t-shirt, evidence of its prior use apparent. "I'm sorry. I should have covered up before answering the door. Please, tell me what's going on," he urged, his tone earnest.

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but steal another glance at him, the image of his nearly naked form seared into your mind. Reminding yourself of your purpose, you struggled to find your words amid the haze of embarrassment and discomfort.

"Um... there's... I mean... it's just..." you stammered, your face growing hotter by the second. Acutely aware of his gaze upon you, you nervously blurted out, "Your dog is in my house!"

Startled by the urgency in your tone, you quickly attempted to amend your statement. "I mean... Bam wandered into my house, and he doesn't seem to want to leave."

Finally mustering the courage to meet Jungkook's gaze, you observed the surprise and confusion etched across his striking features. "What?" he questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"I think he came in through my window," you commented, and Jungkook's eyes widened in concern.

"It doesn't bother me, but he's a bit agitated, and I can't seem to calm him down," you explained, trying to reassure Jungkook.

Almost throwing himself at you, Jungkook exclaimed, "Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?! I'm so sorry!" He began inspecting you for any signs of injury, his worry palpable.

Taking hold of his wrist, you smiled to ease his anxiety. "No, it's alright. In fact, he seemed protective of me," you assured him, your tone soothing. Jungkook visibly relaxed at your words, although he didn't release his grip on your shoulders.

Affected by his closeness and the mingling scents of his cologne, sweat, and, unfortunately, remnants of their earlier intimacy, you took a step back. Jungkook shook his head slightly, as if snapping out of a trance.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll go get him."

You gave him an understanding look and made your way back to your apartment. "I'm really sorry, Daisy," Jungkook apologized again as he followed you inside. "Bam isn't usually like this."

You waved off his apology and led the way to the living room, where Bam was still in the same spot where you had left him.

Despite Bam's initial angry growls, he visibly relaxed when he spotted Jungkook, his master. Jungkook approached him slowly, his voice gentle and soothing as he addressed the agitated pup. "Hello, friend. Why are you so upset, hmm? Is it because of the broken sundial? Come on, Bam, it's just an object."

As Jungkook reached out to stroke Bam's back, the tension in the air began to dissipate. Gradually, Bam's growls subsided, replaced by a sense of calm under Jungkook's reassuring touch. "You see, there's nothing to worry about. Daisy is safe, and the object can't hurt her," Jungkook reassured the pup, who glanced over at you before lowering his head in acknowledgment.

Moved by Bam's display of protectiveness, you approached them, bending down to touch his head affectionately. "It's okay, Bammie. Thank you for protecting me," you expressed sweetly, feeling a rush of warmth as Bam wagged his tail and licked your face. Jungkook joined in the moment, laughter bubbling between you as the tension eased.

"Now, do you want to tell me why you broke into someone else's house?" Jungkook demanded playfully, adopting an authoritarian tone. Bam looked at you, almost pleading for assistance.

"It's alright. He's a good boy. He just came to say hello, didn't you?" you interjected, excusing Bam's behavior as he looked at Jungkook with hopeful eyes.

"Alright, it's time to head home," Jungkook said gently, noticing Bam's lowered tail with a tinge of disappointment. "You can come visit me another day if your owner allows it," you added, casting a glance at Jungkook. His face lit up with a bunny-like smile as he nodded in agreement. "Bam has permission, but now he needs to listen to me," Jungkook affirmed with a playful tone.

Bam, understanding the cue, obediently approached you to bid farewell before trotting towards the door. You couldn't help but be impressed. "He's very smart," you remarked, turning to Jungkook with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

Jungkook nodded happily and bid farewell before following Bam out the door. You waved them off with a smile, but Salem's irritated cat's meow urged you to enter the house quickly.

Today marked the eagerly anticipated camping trip with your closest friends. Dividing into two cars, you found yourself riding alongside Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung, while Jungkook took charge of Jiwoo and Namjoon. The journey ahead wasn't overly lengthy, just a couple of hours winding through scenic routes, eventually leading to a tranquil haven nestled amidst majestic mountains and serene lakes.

As the afternoon unfolded, the group's decision to head to the lake for a swim became unanimous. While everyone else eagerly made their way towards the water, you and Jimin lingered behind. Despite the temptation of the lake's cool embrace, you took a moment to apply sunscreen, mindful of the sun's intensity. Jimin, ever thoughtful, offered you some suntan lotion, but you politely declined, knowing it wouldn't offer much protection.

Engaged in conversation, you and Jimin strolled leisurely towards the lake, towels in hand, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. "The sun is really intense today," Jimin remarked, squinting against the bright rays. "I know," you replied, adjusting your hat to shield your face. "I hope the sunscreen I bought for my face holds up. I don't want any more sunburns," you grumbled, carefully navigating the rocky path.

Jimin chuckled in agreement, "Tell me about it. I once bought a cream that promised to be 'the best for eye wrinkles,' turns out it was basically just water." His light-hearted comment elicited a laugh from both of you.

As you reached the shore of the lake, the voices and laughter of your friends grew louder. Upon arrival, your eyes were immediately drawn to Tae and Kook playfully wrestling in the water.

You and Jimin settled down next to Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jiwoo, who were lounging on the sand. Yoongi was dozing off, Namjoon engrossed in a book, and Jiwoo soaking up the sun.

Jimin slipped off his shirt and gestured for you to join him in the water, his eyes bright with excitement.

However, you politely declined, and Jimin, with a shrug and a smile, accepted your decision without hesitation.

"Hey! Wait up!" Jimin called out to the others as he eagerly swam towards them, his laughter carrying over the rippling surface of the lake.

Sitting there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, you couldn't help but admire the beauty of the place. "It's incredibly beautiful, isn't it?" Namjoon remarked, tearing his gaze away from his book to appreciate the surroundings.

You nodded in agreement, taking in the strong, warm sun and the shimmering water, reflecting thousands of glimmering lights within the lake. The lush green backdrop of hills and forests provided a striking contrast to the serene waters.

"Have you been here many times?" you inquired, turning to Namjoon.

Namjoon hummed thoughtfully. "A few times, yes. I stumbled upon this place a few years back while hiking with some college friends."

Engaging in conversation, you and Namjoon delved into discussions about travel and natural wonders. Namjoon asked you questions about plants and wildlife, while you quizzed him about his various adventures and discoveries in different parts of the world.

The sun beat down on your skin relentlessly, prompting the inevitable need to cool off in the water. Yet, an irrational nervousness gripped you, despite knowing they were just friends. However, Jungkook's presence added an extra layer of self-consciousness, subtly comparing your body to Jiwoo's, who lounged nearby, absorbed in a fashion magazine and wearing a stylish pink bikini that accentuated her curves flawlessly. Her toned legs, slender abdomen, and modest bust exuded confidence, resembling a magazine model.

Meanwhile, you opted for a more conservative choice—a purple floral print high waisted bikini swimsuit. Your fair skin, prone to burning easily, was shielded by layers of sunscreen, protecting your delicate complexion from the harsh sun. The combination of sweat and dust formed an uncomfortable layer on your skin, adding to your disheveled appearance.

Your hair, tousled from earlier adventures, was hastily thrown into a messy bun atop your head. Despite feeling far from put-together, the relentless heat left you with no choice but to brave the water.

Excusing yourself quietly to Namjoon, you slipped out of the dress you had been wearing. As you watched the boys still playing in the water, you made a concerted effort not to draw attention to yourself. Sneaking away to a secluded spot along the shore, you waded into the water, seeking solace from the relentless heat.

The cool embrace of the water was exquisite, immediately easing the discomfort of the sun's intensity. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to float, basking in the tranquility of the moment.

It was always a peculiar phenomenon for you—how being close to an elemental force like water seemed to alleviate your pain and calm your mind. In those moments immersed in the water, you felt a profound sense of peace wash over you.

However, your brief respite was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Jimin's voice calling out your name. Cursing inwardly, you turned to see Jimin standing in the water, his gaze fixed on you, with Taehyung and Jungkook pausing their playful antics to glance in your direction.

If it weren't for the scorching sun already warming your cheeks, they surely would have flushed crimson at the breathtaking sight before you.

Taehyung stood with his golden physique on full display, his slender frame glistening with water droplets, reminiscent of a model straight out of a perfume commercial. Yet, it was his companion who truly stole the spotlight—a modern-day Adonis incarnate.

Jungkook stood beside him, his bare chest showcasing each chiseled muscle honed by countless hours at the gym. Water cascaded over his sculpted abdomen, delineating every contour of his muscular arms and accentuating the tattoos adorning his sun-kissed skin. His thick legs were exposed as his swimsuit rode up slightly, while his face, illuminated by the radiant sun, revealed even more of his caramel complexion, a striking contrast to his dark, tousled hair.

Stunned, you could only gaze in awe, grateful that only your face was visible above the waterline, concealing the trembling of your legs. Jungkook's perfection was so captivating that you found yourself yearning for the artistic talent to immortalize his essence in a mural, destined for display in a prestigious museum. Such was his allure that you wished everyone could experience the pleasure of beholding his beauty and marvel at the realization that someone like him truly existed.

"Daisy?" Jimin's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to the present.

You smiled nervously, trying to appear nonchalant. "What's up?" you asked casually, despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Jimin grinned mischievously. "Nothing much. I just wanted to see if you wanted to join us," he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Before you could decline, Taehyung chimed in, shaking his head. "Don't be like that, Daisy!" he whined, his puppy-dog eyes pleading. "Come on, it'll be fun. Think of it as a chance to bond."

You hesitated, not wanting to betray the trembling of your body if you stood up. Damn Jeon Jungkook, you cursed inwardly, feeling like a lovesick schoolgirl every time you laid eyes on him.

"It's okay, Tae," you responded, attempting to reassure him. "You guys go ahead and have your fun. I'm fine here."

Taehyung seemed on the verge of protesting, but Jungkook intervened, his brow furrowing as he placed a veined, tattooed hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Don't push her, Taehyung. Let her be," Jungkook's tone carried a hint of authority, surprising not just you but also Jimin, who wore a subtle expression of astonishment.

Taehyung merely offered a suspicious smile. "Just trying to be nice," he insisted.

Before Jungkook could respond, you stepped in, not wanting them to argue over you.

"It's alright, Jungkook," you met his gaze squarely, conveying that you were genuinely okay with the situation. "What would you like to do, Taehyung?" you redirected your attention towards the other boy, hoping to diffuse any tension.

His commercial smile widened as Taehyung happily addressed you. "We've got a volleyball. Do you know how to play?"

Instantly, embarrassment flooded over you. If there was one thing you were terrible at, it was sports. Memories of balls flying towards you in gym class, inevitably ending with them hitting you square in the face, flashed through your mind. With a sheepish shake of your head, you confirmed what Taehyung seemed to expect. "No, I don't."

"Perfect! I'll teach you," Taehyung exclaimed enthusiastically, eliciting a giggle from Jimin. "Good luck. Daisy hates sports," he chimed in, teasingly.

Jungkook's curiosity piqued as he looked towards you. "Really? Why?" he inquired, his gaze encouraging you to share.

Desperately wishing the earth would swallow you whole, you felt a surge of anxiety rise within you. You didn't want to admit your shortcomings in mobility and reflexes, fearing their judgment.

“I'm just not good at it," you replied, feeling utterly mortified.

Jungkook flashed a reassuring smile, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Come on. It can't be that bad," he encouraged, his tone gentle.

But you remained firm in your refusal. "I promise. I'm terrible," you insisted, your embarrassment deepening.

Taehyung, undeterred by your reluctance, clapped his hands eagerly. "Even more reason for me to teach you!" he declared, his enthusiasm unwavering.

You offered a nervous smile, but inside, you were one hundred percent certain that you were about to make a complete fool of yourself in front of them.

As Taehyung dashed to the shore in search of the ball, Jimin leaped back into the water, leaving just you and Jungkook on the shore. Sensing Jungkook's gaze lingering on you, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious, wishing to hide away as you imagined him comparing you to his fiancée's seemingly perfect physique.

Before you could muster the courage to inquire if everything was alright, Taehyung returned, clutching the volleyball tightly in his hand as he strode back towards you with purpose.

"I'm back. Now, Daisy," Taehyung addressed you, positioning himself by your side.

With determination, Taehyung began explaining the basic rules of water volleyball, covering everything from the game's objective to scoring and the number of players per team. Despite your efforts to grasp the intricacies of the game, you found yourself struggling to keep up with his explanation, nodding along in agreement to everything he said.

When Taehyung finally finished his explanation, he turned to you expectantly. "Do you understand?" he asked.

Without missing a beat, you replied with a confident "Yes," although it couldn't have been further from the truth.

Taehyung beamed in response. "Great. Now, for the demonstration. Jungkook, lend me a hand," he called out to his friend, who had been observing quietly as Taehyung explained the game to you.

Jungkook stepped forward, ready to assist Taehyung in the demonstration.

As Jungkook positioned himself in front of Taehyung, Taehyung initiated the practical demonstration, addressing you with a reassuring smile. "Alright, Daisy, watch closely. We'll start with the basics," he began, his tone encouraging.

As they commenced passing the ball between them, Taehyung provided commentary to guide you through the process. "See how we're using our arms to control the direction of the pass? It's all about precision," he explained, demonstrating each movement with clarity. Jungkook nodded in agreement, chiming in, "And don't forget to communicate with your teammate. Let them know where you're sending the ball."

As they progressed to more advanced techniques such as blocking and spiking, Taehyung continued to offer insights. "Now, Daisy, this is where things get exciting. Watch how Jungkook positions himself to block my spike," he instructed, demonstrating the maneuver with precision. Jungkook added his own input, "And when you're spiking, aim for open spaces on the other side of the net. It's all about finding the gaps."

Despite their patient instruction, you found yourself unable to fully focus on the game. How could you explain to them that your mind was preoccupied with a significant distraction—a distraction in the form of Jungkook himself? With each movement of his body in the water, you found yourself captivated by the fluidity of his motions, the flexing of his muscles, the way his hair swayed with each gesture, and the faint grunts that escaped his lips, igniting a fiery response within you. Despite your efforts to concentrate, Jungkook's presence proved to be a captivating distraction you couldn't shake.

You felt an icy and damp arm slide onto your shoulders—it was Jimin. "They're pretty good, huh?" he remarked, gazing at his friends. You nodded in agreement. "They used to play all the time in college. Kook was even approached several times to join the college team."

The revelation didn't come as a surprise. Jungkook's athletic prowess had always been evident, often serving as the reason you managed to scrape by in those dreaded physical education classes.

"And did he accept?" you inquired, directing your gaze towards the two boys.

Jimin shook his head. "No, he turned it down. Jungkook can't stand being in the spotlight."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "He doesn't?"

"Despite how he may seem, Jungkook is actually quite introverted," Jimin explained. "He only puts himself out there when he feels obligated to or under social pressure."

It was a revelation that resonated with you. Even as children, Jungkook had always seemed most at ease in the company of you and Taehyung.

"Hey, Jimin!" Taehyung's voice interrupted, "Stop distracting her!"

"I'm sorry!" Jimin shot back, a playful grin on his face. "It's not my fault you guys are boring to watch!" he teased, earning a laugh from both of you.

Tae and Kook exchanged a brief, intense glance before Tae swiftly hurled the ball at Jimin. Fortunately, you had moved away from Jimin's side, so the ball merely grazed his head. Reacting quickly, Tae lunged at Jimin, and you found yourself instinctively running over to their side, inadvertently ending up next to Jungkook.

As Tae and Jimin engaged in a playful water fight, Jungkook positioned himself in front of you, shielding you from the splashes with a protective stance. He turned to you, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. "They can be a bit immature."

Shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, you chuckled softly. "I know," you replied. "Jimin's always been the playful type."

Jungkook laughed too, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "He was even wilder back in college," he confessed.

"I've heard the stories," you remarked, imagining the antics they must have gotten up to.

Jungkook ran a hand through his wet hair, and you found yourself mesmerized by the simple gesture. "He's calmed down a lot now," Jungkook observed. "I think it's because of Yoongi."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Yoongi definitely has a calming influence on him. But that doesn't mean Jimin's boring—he's just more reserved now."

Jungkook hummed in approval. "They complement each other well."

"They really do," you agreed with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth in Jungkook's presence.

Jungkook appeared to be on the verge of saying something when Jimin suddenly dashed towards you, taking refuge behind you. As Taehyung approached with a determined expression, he called out to Jimin, his tone filled with annoyance. "Come here, Park Jimin. Don't act like a coward," he demanded, coming to stand beside you.

Jimin squeezed your arms tightly, continuing to hide behind you. "I'd be a complete idiot to listen to you," he retorted defiantly.

"Get out from behind Daisy and face me!" Taehyung urged, his frustration evident.

Jungkook, positioned protectively in front of you, seemed to tense, likely concerned that you might inadvertently get hurt due to any recklessness on Jimin or Taehyung's part.

Jimin chuckled from behind you. "No way in hell!" he shot back.

As Taehyung closed in on you, Jimin began to dart around, skillfully evading Taehyung's attempts to reach him.

"Hey!" Jungkook's voice cut through the commotion. "Don't mess around with her in the middle like that," he admonished, his expression stern.

Undeterred, Jimin playfully stuck his tongue out at Taehyung, taunting him while expertly maneuvering to avoid being caught.

The constant movement caused by Jimin's antics left you feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Lately, sudden movements had been making you feel queasy, and the relentless stimulation of the sun only worsened your dizziness. "Guys," you attempted weakly, but neither of them heard you, completely absorbed in their playful antics.

Realizing that you couldn't stay in that spot much longer without fainting, you fought against the overwhelming sensation of dizziness that threatened to overtake you. However, the world around you began to blur, and you found yourself unable to speak.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around you, preventing you from collapsing into the water. You were gently pressed against a chest, and though words were spoken to you, they sounded distant and muffled. Your vision remained hazy, but you sensed being lifted off the ground.

Against the person's chest, you caught a faint scent of freshness and mint, accompanied by the comforting sound of a rapid heartbeat. Soon, you were lowered onto the sand, and a large hand cupped both sides of your cheeks. Blinking, you focused on the figure before you, recognizing Jungkook's deep, dark eyes.

Gradually, the intensity of your dizziness began to subside, and you heard Jungkook's concerned voice asking if you were alright. With a slight nod, you managed to respond, "I'm okay, just got dizzy," as you noticed Taehyung and Jimin in the water, their attention now directed towards your side.

Beside you, the others remained in their respective positions, oblivious to what had transpired. Grateful for Jungkook's discreet assistance, you appreciated his unobtrusive approach, knowing how much you disliked drawing attention to yourself.

"I figured as much," Jungkook responded calmly. "It was probably the sudden movements Jimin made with you, coupled with the strong sun. It's difficult not to be affected by it."

Expressing your gratitude, you thanked him sincerely. "Thank you for helping me. I didn't want to alarm the others by saying I felt unwell."

Jungkook shook his head in dismissal. "It wasn't your fault. They shouldn't have been playing with you so roughly."

"It's alright. I know they didn't mean any harm," you assured him.

Jungkook, who had crouched down in front of you, let out a snort. "They're grown men. They should know better than to be so reckless."

As Jungkook rose with a determined expression, his gaze shifted towards where Taehyung and Jimin continued to play carelessly in the water. A flicker of irritation crossed his features before he strode towards them with purposeful steps.

"Tae, Jimin!" Jungkook called out firmly, his voice laced with reproach. "You shouldn't play so roughly with Daisy. It was reckless and dangerous."

Taehyung and Jimin turned, surprised by the severity in Jungkook's tone. As he approached, the tension in the air became palpable.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook," Taehyung apologized, visibly chastened by his behavior. "We didn't think it would make her feel unwell."

"You should have considered it," Jungkook admonished, his tone firm yet composed. "Daisy is important to us, and we can't allow her to be put in harm's way because of careless play."

Jimin nodded silently, acknowledging his mistake as he approached you with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Daisy. It won't happen again," he promised earnestly.

Jungkook stood by your side, watching attentively as Taehyung and Jimin offered genuine apologies. While his anger was evident, there was also a sense of relief in seeing that they understood the gravity of the situation and were willing to correct their behavior. With a nod of approval, Jungkook decided to put the incident behind them.

You woke up early the next day, the soft morning light filtering through the tent and the melodic chirping of birds outside preventing you from lingering in bed any longer. Currently, you were washing breakfast dishes alongside Yoongi.

"So, what happened yesterday afternoon?" Yoongi inquired, scrubbing a plate with focused attention.

"I got dizzy when the boys were in the water," you replied, drying some cups with a thoughtful expression.

Yoongi glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "Just that?" His tone hinted at something more.

You nodded, puzzled by his insinuation. "Yeah?"

Your friend couldn't contain his amusement, a small chuckle escaping him. "So, I imagined Jungkook carrying you to the shore and then getting angrier than you because of Tae and Jimin's antics?"

Halting your dish drying mid-motion, you turned to face Yoongi, your expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Weren't you supposed to be asleep?"

Yoongi paused in his scrubbing, meeting your gaze directly. "Just answer," he urged, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"It was nothing. I just got dizzy, and Jungkook pulled me out," you explained, feeling a pang of irritation. "And you're turning into a gossip."

Raising an eyebrow in response, Yoongi remained unfazed. "You didn't deny the last part of what I said."

"I don't have to. Those are just your assumptions. Jungkook was just concerned, nothing more," you defended, feeling the need to protect Jungkook's reputation.

Yoongi simply hummed in response. "If you say so," he conceded, his playful demeanor hinting that he might not be entirely convinced.

With that, the two of you immersed yourselves in your tasks and then returned to where the others were gathered.

Jimin and Tae were carrying some firewood, their arms laden with the dry branches they had gathered, while Namjoon was diligently cleaning up the area. You and Yoongi followed suit, setting down the items you had brought on a nearby table, while Yoongi left the remaining supplies to the side.

As Jimin caught sight of you both, he paused his task and greeted you warmly. "It's good that you're back! We need to talk," he said, his tone serious but friendly.

You walked over to join Namjoon's side, while Yoongi made his way towards Jimin.

"What's going on?" you asked, curious about the sudden call for discussion, while Tae settled down next to you, arranging your chair with a thoughtful gesture.

Since yesterday's incident, Taehyung and Jimin had been more attentive, perhaps feeling a bit guilty for not being more attentive to your needs during your moment of weakness.

Jimin took a seat on a plastic chair across from you, his expression earnest as he spoke alongside his boyfriend. "We wanted to see if everyone agreed to have the barbecue in the evening instead. That way, we can make lunch earlier and make the most of the day by spending time on the water," he proposed, glancing around at each of you for your input.

You nodded in agreement, along with Namjoon and Yoongi, acknowledging the plan for the evening barbecue.

Taehyung beamed with enthusiasm. "Great! When Kook comes back, we'll head to town to buy some charcoal for tonight," he announced cheerfully, reaching for a piece of bread to munch on.

Noticing your puzzled expression, Yoongi took the initiative to inquire, "Where did he go?"

"He went with Jiwoo to look for Hyung in the village," Taehyung replied casually, taking a bite of his bread without much thought.

The mention of "Hyung" caused you and Yoongi to exchange wide-eyed glances, a sudden sense of unease settling in.

Still struggling to comprehend, you voiced your question, "Hyung?"

This time, Jimin clarified, "Kang Hyung. You met him the other day, Daisy."

At the mention of Kang's name, you felt a knot form in your stomach. Kang? Was he really coming?

Feeling a mixture of disbelief and dread, you turned to Yoongi, silently sharing your apprehension.

"Didn't he say he couldn't make it?" Yoongi questioned, his tone betraying a hint of concern.

"Yeah, but he called us yesterday and said he didn't want to miss out on the fun," Taehyung chimed in, nonchalantly munching on his snack.

Sensing the need for privacy, you motioned for Yoongi to follow you, discreetly slipping away to a secluded spot behind some trees a few meters from where your friends were gathered.

"Did you know Kang was coming?!" you murmured, your voice a mixture of surprise and frustration.

Yoongi shook his head frantically. "I had no idea! Jimin told me all week that he wasn't coming!"

You leaned against the tree, feeling a surge of irritation. "What are we going to do?! That asshole did it on purpose!"

Nodding in agreement, Yoongi placed a reassuring hand on his chin, deep in thought. "He probably waited until the last minute to tell us so you wouldn't find out. He wanted it to be a surprise for you."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you muttered, "Damn it! After all these years, he still knows how to push my buttons!"

"Calm down. Let's find a solution to this. We can't let him get away with it," Yoongi suggested, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder.

You nodded, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. "You're right. I can't get crazy now. Our friends are in danger."

"Okay. Now we have to figure out what he wants," Yoongi added, his voice tinged with determination. "We know he hates you and uses Jungkook as leverage."

"It's more than just hate," you replied thoughtfully, furrowing your brow in deep contemplation. "He has a wounded ego. When we were young, I used to outshine him in everything, and the turning point was when I called off my engagement with him."

Yoongi nodded, absorbing your words. "That was when you were 16 and dating Jungkook, wasn't it?"

You hummed in agreement. "That's right. But his resentment towards Jungkook runs even deeper because he sees him as a mere mortal. That's why he and his father used Jungkook against me years ago."

"Remind me of the deal again," Yoongi prompted, his expression serious.

"That I would erase Jungkook's memory and leave the coven, never to return," you answered, frustration evident in your tone.

Yoongi leaned back against the tree, his gaze fixed on you. "And what did you gain?"

You clenched your fist, a surge of anger rising within you. "They were supposed to leave Jungkook unharmed and leave my aunts alone," you explained tersely. "But apparently, they didn't uphold that damn part of the deal!" you exclaimed the last part, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that your outburst hadn't caught the attention of the others, who were engrossed in their own conversation.

"Kang knows that your weakness is Jungkook. It's his best chance against you," Yoongi stated, his tone grave. "We must find a way to extricate our friends from his grasp."

Yoongi was right. You needed to devise a plan to ensure your friends' safety amidst the conflict with Kang.

From what you had gathered, Kang was a former college classmate of Tae, Jimin, and Kook. This meant that he had seized the opportunity of your absence to reenter Jungkook's life, capitalizing on the fact that Kook didn't remember him and could form new connections with him.

You couldn't shake the feeling that Kang's proximity to Jungkook was no coincidence, and it certainly wasn't for benevolent reasons. Now, you needed to ascertain how much the boys knew about Kang to strategize how to distance him from them.

"Do you know who is the most loyal to Kang?" you inquired, recognizing the importance of identifying who was closest to him and thus would face the greatest challenge in breaking away.

"Taehyung," your friend replied without hesitation. "Jimin drifted apart from him shortly after college, so they don't typically keep in touch outside of work."

"What about Jungkook?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued.

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. "Jungkook was close to him, from what Jimin told me. But about a year ago, Jungkook experienced a mental breakdown and embarked on a year-long trip. He returned when you saw him, but I heard that he has since narrowed his inner circle to only include Jimin and Tae as confidants."

"Do you know why Jungkook was affected, why he had to leave?" you pressed, sensing that understanding what had transpired could provide valuable insights.

Yoongi idly played with the stones, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "No idea. I've never met Jungkook in person, only heard about him. Jungkook was always busy and constantly on the move," he replied. "But I've overheard Jimin arguing with him many times. It seemed to revolve around Jungkook not feeling fulfilled with his life or something along those lines."

"Now you seem much more worried," Yoongi said solemnly. "A year ago, Jungkook fell into a state of depression, so the psychologist recommended a change of environment. That's why he decided to go away for the year and travel," he continued, his tone tinged with concern.

Feeling a pang of sadness, you realized you had no idea Jungkook was going through such a tough time. "But if it's of any comfort, because I know you're feeling down about it, I heard that the trip was good for him, and now he's doing better," Yoongi remarked, attempting to offer some solace. "Now we must deal with Kang's lunacy."

"I know. So if Tae is the closest to him, we have to find a way to make him distrust Kang," you replied, your mind racing with potential strategies. "That's assuming Kang hasn't enchanted any of them."

"Do you know how to detect if they're under a spell?" Yoongi inquired, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Yes, there are several methods, but it would be best to purify them and give them something like a talisman—disguised as a gift—so they don't suspect anything," you explained, already formulating a plan.

Yoongi nodded in agreement. "Perfect. Once we're back in the city, we'll take care of it. In the meantime, we need to act casual around Kang, so he doesn't suspect anything," he advised, emphasizing the need for caution. "Especially you, who seems to have a panic attack every time you encounter someone from your past," he added, pointing a finger at you with a knowing look.

You and Yoongi nodded in agreement, steeling yourselves for the inevitable as Jungkook's black car pulled up. As the doors opened, you braced yourself mentally for what was to come. Yoongi shot you a supportive look before sitting next to Jimin, who enveloped him in a comforting hug. The sound of conversations filled the air, building up to the moment you dreaded the most.

"Good morning, ___! Or as my friends love to call you, Daisy," came the familiar, arrogant voice from behind you. Your heart sank as you recognized the voice of the person you despised the most.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you turned around to face him. There he stood, the epitome of arrogance, dressed impeccably in casual yet luxurious attire that accentuated his tall frame. His trademark arrogant smile adorned his face as he approached you, seemingly poised to give you a greeting kiss.

Swiftly, you evaded his advance, pretending to be engrossed in greeting Jiwoo and Jungkook, who had just arrived behind him. Jiwoo enveloped you in a hug as if she hadn't seen you just an hour ago at breakfast, and Jungkook offered a friendly wave.

Grateful for the distraction, you watched as Tae eagerly showed Kang around, excitedly detailing the day's plans for all of you. Despite your inner turmoil, you plastered on a smile and joined in the facade, determined to maintain the illusion of normalcy for as long as possible.

Throughout the entire day, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the newcomer. He seemed acutely aware of your accusing stare, yet he persisted in maintaining his facade of congeniality.

Observing the dynamics between Kang and your friends, you noted Jimin's relatively friendly demeanor towards him, while Jungkook remained mostly reserved, only engaging when directly addressed. Jiwoo appeared indifferent, barely acknowledging Kang's presence, while Namjoon actively avoided him altogether.

Confirming Yoongi's earlier observations, you couldn't help but notice Taehyung's unwavering adoration for Kang. He hung onto his every word, constantly seeking his company and eagerly participating in every activity suggested by Kang.

As evening descended, you found yourself seated around a campfire, sandwiched between Jiwoo and Taehyung. Kang, Jimin, and Taehyung engaged in conversation about business matters, while Namjoon and Yoongi delved into discussions about various rappers.

Feeling drained from the day's social interactions, you excused yourself from the group, craving solitude. Deciding to take a stroll around the nearby area, you sought solace in the quietude of nature, hoping to clear your mind amidst the tranquility of the surroundings.

Dusk had already settled, leaving only a scattering of distant lights on the horizon. Wrapped snugly in your thick sweater against the chilly breeze, you strolled along the path toward the lake shore. Grateful for the moon's gentle glow illuminating your way, you admired the clarity of the night, where only the moon and stars adorned the dark blue canvas above.

In your pocket nestled the camera Yoongi had gifted you on one of your birthdays, and you seized the chance to capture some photos of the serene scenery. However, your ultimate destination was the wooden dock, a mere few meters from the campsite. Upon reaching it, you settled onto the shore, allowing yourself to soak in the tranquility of the landscape before you.

Lost in your reverie, memories of youthful escapades with Jungkook flooded your mind. Together, you'd sneak away to the river near your childhood home, armed with a blanket and your favorite juices tucked in Jungkook's backpack, while you brought Aunt Binna's delectable cakes along.

The two of you would linger on the creaky wooden dock until dawn's first light, savoring each other's company and the anticipation of the new day, before stealthily slipping back home to evade detection. Lost in these cherished recollections, you failed to notice the insidious tendrils winding their way around your exposed leg, their icy touch sending shivers down your spine.

It wasn't until the clammy grip tightened and pulled you inexorably toward the water's edge that you snapped back to reality, too late to escape the impending danger lurking beneath the serene surface of the lake.

You let out a scream of surprise as you plunged into the freezing water. The creature pulling you seemed determined to guide you deeper. Frantically, you attempted to break free from its grasp, but its tentacles clung tightly to your leg. Despite your struggles, the diminishing air supply worked against you, leaving you fighting a losing battle against the relentless force dragging you downwards.

With a quick and precise gesture, you murmured ancient words of power as you channeled magical energy into the tentacles that trapped you.

A bright, burning light began to emanate from your outstretched hand, enveloping the tentacles in a magical flare. The tentacles twist and contort, their grip loosening under the impact of the release spell. With a final burst of energy, the tentacles disintegrate into a swirl of magical sparks, freeing you from their capture.

Just as victory seemed within reach, the resilient squid-shaped creature refused to yield.

Despite losing its tentacles, the monster relentlessly attacked you with its body, delivering a forceful blow that left you weakened and causing you to inadvertently swallow water.

As the sea monster's assault sapped your strength, panic and despair engulfed you. Struggling to maintain consciousness, water filled your lungs, blurring your vision and impairing your movements as you fought to stay afloat.

The water you had swallowed became an overwhelming weight on your chest, exacerbating your struggle to breathe. Each gulp of air grew shallower and more agonizing, as a sense of oppression engulfed you, threatening to overwhelm your consciousness.

With every passing moment, the suffocating sensation intensified, rendering each breath a desperate battle for oxygen. Aware that time was slipping away, you exerted every ounce of strength, attempting to break free from the sea monster's grasp and reach the surface before it was too late.

However, your efforts proved futile.

The last sight your eyes beheld was the blend of greenish and blue hues at the water's surface, as darkness descended upon you.

Everything around you appeared blurry and confusing. Intense pain throbbed in your chest, accompanied by profound dizziness. You yearned to open your eyes but found yourself unable to, weakly blinking against the penetrating brightness that flooded your vision.

Amidst the haze, a voice murmured around you, yet comprehension eluded you. The words seemed distant, as though originating from another realm. Attempting to move, your muscles responded weakly, as if detached from your body.

Slowly, the chaotic symphony of sensations began to coalesce. A familiar voice, calm and steadfast, gently urged you to breathe deeply and let go.

With each inhalation, your lungs welcomed more air, infusing your body with renewed vigor. The pain in your chest ebbed away, supplanted by a sense of relief and tranquility. As clarity returned to your mind, fragmented memories flooded back: the frantic struggle underwater, the suffocating sensation, and finally, the descent into darkness.

You abruptly opened your eyes to Jungkook's anxious face hovering above you. His presence, warm and comforting, enveloped you, offering solace in his embrace. Wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, droplets cascading onto your face as he breathed unevenly, his neck chain grazing against you.

His expression oscillated between fear and relief, his lips red and swollen, a testament to the turmoil he endured. "My God, Daisy!" he uttered, pulling you closer in a tight embrace. "You scared me so much!"

Shock rendered you speechless, your arms limp and unresponsive. Jungkook continued to hold you close, his murmurs of relief washing over you like a soothing balm.

Momentarily setting aside your turmoil, you surrendered to the embrace, finding solace in his familiarity. Closing your eyes, you nestled against his neck, feeling a sense of home and security wash over you, a refuge from the chaos.

After a while, as the tension ebbed away, you reluctantly eased out of his embrace with his assistance, slowly sitting up as he supported you.

The moonlight bathed his face, casting a mesmerizing glow that accentuated his beauty, and you swore you had never met someone as beautiful as him.

"Fuck, Daisy, what happened?" Jungkook's furrowed brow betrayed his concern. "I came out for some air, and the next thing I know, you're plunging into the water!"

Caught off guard, you struggled to find words to explain, your thoughts still scattered from the ordeal. All you knew was that one moment you were sitting, and the next, a sea monster had dragged you under.

“I'm sorry," you murmured, your apology tinged with confusion.

Jungkook's expression softened with understanding. "It's not your fault," he reassured gently. "You just scared me half to death. I thought I was going to lose you."

Surprised, you raised an eyebrow. "Was it that serious?" you asked weakly, your throat still raw.

Jungkook nodded solemnly. "You ingested a lot of water."

Taking in your surroundings, a question formed in your mind. You fixed your gaze on Jungkook. "Did you see anything else when I fell?"

He shook his head. "I just saw you fall. What happened to you?"

Thinking quickly, you offered an excuse. "I fainted," you replied, maintaining composure.

Jungkook's expression filled with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You weren't feeling well yesterday either."

"It's probably just anemia or something," you dismissed, though butterflies fluttered in your stomach at his worried gaze.

Jungkook clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You need to take better care of yourself," he scolded. "Don't brush it off so lightly."

A faint smile tugged at your lips at his familiar scolding tone, reminiscent of the old Jungkook.

"Okay," you acquiesced.

He arched an eyebrow. "I hope you keep your word."

You looked at him at his playful reprimanding tone. "What if I don't follow through?"

He smiled, showing a dimple in his cheek. "You don't want to upset me, dear Daisy."

You chuckled softly, "I'll do my best to take care, Jungkook. Can't have you worrying about me."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "You better, Daisy. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

You smirked back, enjoying the banter. "Oh, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Now you got serious “Jungkook, I just want to say thank you," you said earnestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened."

His expression softened, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, don't mention it. I'm just glad I could help."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his humility. "Still, I owe you one," you added, your voice tinged with gratitude.

Jungkook chuckled softly. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. But for now, let's just focus on getting you feeling better, okay?" You nodded, grateful for his concern, and as you sat together under the moonlight.

Hidden in the darkness, Kang Hyung observed the scene between you and Jungkook from afar, his anger simmering beneath the surface. His meticulously crafted plan had crumbled before his eyes. He had intended for you to be involved in an accident, hoping either for your demise or, at the very least, for you to emerge significantly weakened and vulnerable. However, Jungkook, that insufferable Prince Charming, had intervened, thwarting Kang's schemes yet again.

Jungkook hadn't taken it into account in his plan. Kang believed the spell you cast on Jungkook to erase his memories of you was powerful, but apparently the true love shit was true.

Because even though Kang Hyung put thousands of women in Jungkook's path and even tried his best to match the man with Jiwoo's rich bitch, Jungkook couldn't go crazy in love like he did with you.

His plan unfolded seamlessly just as you, by the campfire, excused yourself to seek solace alone. Kang waited a reasonable interval before summoning sea beasts, aware of your affinity for water and assuming you'd be nearby. However, he hadn't accounted for Jungkook's attention being diverted towards you. Jungkook, biding his time until everyone was distracted, stealthily followed your path. Witnessing Jungkook pursue you, Kang had to act swiftly. He made an excuse to leave for the bathroom and dashed towards the lake, anticipating the sea monster's attack on you.

And the creature did attack you, but the bastard of Jungkook was quicker and chased after you. Like a clichéd hero, he pulled you out of the water and even revived you with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Now, you two shared a magical moment akin to a scene from a romantic movie. Kang, seething with envy, desired to intervene and sabotage everything. He contemplated hurling a fireball or manipulating water against the two of you. Seeing you both so blissfully happy only fueled Kang's hatred towards you both.

You two were the cause of Kang's failure years ago; he wasn't about to let history repeat itself. No, Kang vowed to take control and ruin your lives irreversibly. He intended to manipulate Jungkook against you, knowing precisely how to inflict maximum pain upon you. Now, all that remained was to execute his plan. He composed himself, treating this as a mere rehearsal for the inevitable moment of truth. Kang was determined to make you repent and suffer, and nothing, not even Satan himself, would stand in his way.

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