#i feel you so much i can literally see the nausea of anxiety in his expressions

[keravnous]

diet mountain dew; john wick/fem!reader (smut, 18+)

dating john wick - the playlist

The Boogeyman is out to get you. Little does he know, that you too are willing to do quite a bunch of things just to stay alive.

warnings: blood, guns, knives, injuries, physical violence/fighting, assassination attempt; dub-con, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), choking, dirty talk, spanking, a lot of manhandling bc for the love of god he doesn't know how to be soft anymore, gun kink, knife kink, size kink, strength kink, squirting, body worship if you blink, is this hate-fucking? idk; john has a horse cock change my mind; john is in his 50s, the reader is in her 20s; set somewhere after the series i guess? (I refuse to accept he's dead); problematic family relationship as a plot device; let's all collectively ignore the fact that he would actually never touch another woman or even dare to catch the smallest of feelings again; john gets off on the violence

word count: 10,6 k

thank you mel for a) listening to my ramblings and b) reading a good chunk of the first third of this dumpster fire and still going nuts about it, kissies and thank you v for listening to my keanu ramblings without losing faith in me

You wonder, if praying will help you. Probably not.

The sound of carnage, screams and gunshots in the hallway abruptly stops. You hear the assailant's heavy footsteps echoing off the floorboards outside of your hotel room mere seconds before the door bursts open, flies out of its hinges and rattles to the ground, wood creaking and breaking, splinters flying everywhere.

There had been a hit out on you for two days and every single soldier in your father's militia was ready to defend your life with their own.

Literally. You can tell by the man entering your suite.

You can tell by just how much he is covered in blood. You can tell by the way it drips down his forehead and how it soaks his white shirt - even the soles of his shoes creak with it. You can tell by the way he is totally and utterly drenched in red red red, and because you are certain it is not his.

They literally gave their life for you. The thought hits you like a blow to the head. People have died because of you. Fathers, brothers, sons. You recall your last conversation with your own father. They want us dead, they put out a contract on us - you had never seen him so nervous, so disheveled. What does that mean - his anxiety had been washing over you in seeping hot waves, sending cold shivers down your spine. It means, I need you out of the house - now.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach as the man now approaches you, casually strolls into the suite with his finger on the trigger of the gun dangling from his hand and you stare back at him - a deer in the headlights, frozen by fear in the eyes of its deadly predator. One of your father's men jumps from his cover, fires a shot and gets hit back with one straight between his eyes. It happens so quickly, that you can't turn your head away. You see the bullet piercing his forehead, blood splattering as soon as it exits the skull on the other side. His head flies back a little, and then his body goes limp, slack, as he falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

You want to scream. You want to vomit. You want to run. But there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from him.

There's only one soldier left with you in the suite now and he is hiding around the corner, near the bathroom. The stranger - the assassin, the killer - does not lower the gun again, and does not let his eyes stray from you as he carefully enters the room. You feel terribly exposed, dressed only in your negligée, not daring to move.

Now, that the dim light of the suite's living room strikes his face, you can finally see him, see the man who has come to end you. He is older than you, maybe nearly twice your age, with dark hair and even darker eyes, matching his black suit. Lean and athletic, chest heaving slightly with physical exhaustion. The Boogeyman.

You do not know who or what you had expected, what cruel and dreadful images your brain had conjured up in the past 48 hours - 48 frightful hours of being moved around from hideout to hideout by your father's men, not staying in one place longer than necessary - but it certainly was not that. Not him. He is a lot more handsome than his reputation has led on. Seeing him on the subway around rush hour you would have never suspected him to be in this business. He looks nice. And that is exactly what makes him dangerous.

You have heard his name before. Echoing from the walls. Baba Yaga. Whispered with both: fear and respect. The Boogeyman. Blurted out: like a curse or like a blessing. Mister Wick: like redemption, like damnation. Jonathan, the king's son walking the earth as the devil.

John. The sound of his name is oddly human - disturbingly human - for someone looking as calm and collected, focused and concentrated as he does right now, while being drenched in blood and pointing a gun at you.

You must have said his name out loud, because his eyebrows twitch irritatedly, a movement so quick you barely missed it - must've sound desperate too, then.

Vision zeroing in on the barrel of his gun, your hands clutch the sofa's edge. There is so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that it freezes your limbs, has your ears ringing. The only thing responding to your brain fully are your eyes, and they snap away from the gun and over to the remaining soldier. It's a quick look, not even a second, but the hitman seems to recognize it and - with near inhumane speed - flicks his gun, and fires two shots. Blood splatters against the white door as the shots pin the soldier's body against it, and is it finally drops to the ground heavily it leaves a nasty trail, all wet and sticky and red.

Could be you.

You want to scream, but your body does not belong to you anymore, does not respond to your commands. It is a desperate, cruel sound that leaves your throat instead as you flinch with the sound of the gun being fired.

"Let's make this quick" his voice is gravelly and rough, like he has seen a thousand grim things and the pain of it has etched its way into his throat, left a nasty mark on every tone that ever dared to cross after.

That is when your fight or flight suddenly kicks in. Well, more specifically, it kicks in while he is speaking, as he starts to swap the empty clip of his gun.

He underestimates you. Everyone does. Your father, your brother. The countless men lying dead littered across the hotel's 25th floor. It will be his mistake.

You latch forward, grabbing the vase from the coffee table in front of you. The weight of it in your hand drags you down.

With all the strength you can muster, which is quite a lot considering the massive amounts of adrenaline that are currently amping up your body - you throw it at him. It connects with his forehead sharply; a deep, irritated noise bursting from his throat as it crashes, splinters and falls to the floor.

You are braver, braver than you should be as your assault does not end there, your body pushing you forward, leaping over the table and crashing into his broad shoulders.

I will not die today

Body ramming into his, he stumbles, as your fist connects with his chin. You have only been partially trained in hand-to-hand combat, after pleading your brother for months until he eventually gave in. Sadly, he wasn't nearly as thorough and honest with it as he was training his drug dealer and gun runners. But now, it is the only thing you can rely on.

There is nothing else; no one else left alive in that building who might be able to help you. It is up to you. So, you might as well try.

And Oh, does desperation fire up your blood.

I will not die today

The diversion does not last long and he - John John John only human only human only human - grabs you by you waist hard, fingers digging into your flesh and into the expensive silk, before he slams your body into the ground. All air leaves your lungs with a dull sound erupting from your chest, just as pain blooms around your ribs.

You cough and he looks down at you, confusion making his brows twitch, before cold-hearted determination takes over once more. John aims his gun at you once more, pulls back the hammer and you do not even think about it, your leg rising as you kick against his hand. The shot misses, buries itself deep into the expensive carpet a few inches next to your skull. You have no time to do either: panic or sigh in relief; instead, you deliver him a kick to his stomach, fighting yourself back onto your feet, punching him straight in the face.

John grunts and grabs your wrist, but you see it coming and throw yourself into his wide frame, wrapping your other arm around his back and thus hooking it underneath his right shoulder, dislocating his arm and preventing him from aiming his gun at you. You claw onto him as he twists your arm close to his stomach, while you wrap your legs around him, making it harder for John to shake you off.

I will not die today

You kick and dig the heel of your foot into his thighs and the back of his knees and he grunts and buckles a little, but turns wild and relentless quicker than you can blink, throws the two of you into the next wall. You gasp sharply as your back connects with the large mirror, splinters digging into your back - not deep enough to actually cut skin, but it stings nonetheless, the impact making you dizzy.

Sharp pain shoots through your back and your neck, but you are not willing to give up yet, as raw energy and rage and desperation surges through your body - one of your legs coming loose and your knee hitting his stomach repeatedly, making John grunt in pain and you use your momentum to dig your hand deep into his back, holding onto him and then swirling out of the deadlock he has got you in, jumping his back like a monkey.

His gun clatters to the ground and for a split second, the room falls silent. Then, roaring like an animal gone wild, he grabs your calves and slams his back into the nearest wall, has you screaming with the impact. You can feel blood pouring from your nose, feel it trickling down your lips.

I will not die today

John is stronger than you are, so so much stronger - the apex predator: all muscle, unbreakable focus and the sheer will to kill. But you are not only a little quicker; you also really want to stay alive. It is a force he rarely encounters. And quite frankly, it irritates him.

He may be older than you, taller than you and stronger than you but you have something he does not have: you actually still got something to lose.

And you fight like it, too. All scratches and sharp yells, as you punch and scrabble at his shoulders and tear at his tie, trying to strangle him with it. John is struggling against it, gasping for air and winding beneath your assault and then his grip around your claves grows hard like iron, seconds before he pulls - throws you over his head like you weigh nothing. You land on the expensive carpet with a heavy thud - groaning as you crash onto your side with sharp pain shooting through your shoulder, down your ribcage.

I will not die today

John sputters and stumbles forward, looking for his gun but you are quicker, kicking it away with your foot. It clatters back onto and slides over the wooden floorboards.

For a second you consider your choices, fighting yourself back onto your feet but John - a practiced and seasoned fighter - beats you to it and lands a blow to your upper back, sends you back down with him - a mess of sputtering saliva and painful groans. His body topples onto yours and he quickly rolls the two of you over the floor.

John is heavy and warm on top of you, as he keeps you in a tight headlock, your chest pressed to the floor and neck bend in a painful angle. He presses his strong forearm down onto your windpipe and you choke and cough, feet kicking, hands dragging across the wood, clawing at it feebly.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, hot and damp. You can feel his torso pressing against your back as he kneels behind you.

I will not die today

Mustering all your remaining strength, you trash against him, ramming your backside into his stomach. He grunts and for a split second, his grip loosens. It is all you need. Throwing your elbow back, you hit him in the chest and he caves in.

You cough, crawling forward and then scrambling back onto your feet, one of your negligée’s straps falling down your shoulder in the process. You hastily pull it back up, seconds before John launches a cascade of punches onto you.

A few of them hit you as you try to block them; dull pain igniting in your body, blooming in your face and arms. Your breath goes heavy as you stumble backwards. You cannot do this. There is no way. You just physically can't.

He is stronger. Taller. Heavier. Deadlier. Your body and every single muscle, bone, nerve in it aches and you wheeze but he is already onto you again, half-tackles you and grabs your waist, ready to smash you back onto the ground.

You cling onto him with all your remaining strength, struggling against his huge frame, wrapping your hands around his neck in an attempt to get him to stumble.

His hair tingles on your naked arms. Oh wait --

Tearing at his hair - which has him grunting in both, pain, and irritation at the unusual attempt - you clumsily pull yourself up onto his shoulders, cutting his face right above his eyebrow with your nails in the process until you finally wrap one leg around his throat and close it around there tightly, choking him. John tries to pull you off him and succeeds after quite the tussle, only to find your frame clinging to him, legs and arms wrapping around his body, hands scratching and feet kicking.

I will not fucking die today

In an attempt to either get rid of each other or submit the last blow, to finally kill the other, you two swirl through the room - a deadly dance of torn skin, smashed glass panes and mirrors, bruises and cuts. Somewhere in between kicks and punches, he managed to pick up his gun - and right now, you are mustering all of your exhausted strength to prevent the barrel from pressing against your skull.

Eventually, John crashes your bodies through a large wooden door, and is not quick enough - unable to stop his own oxe-like strength - to stop himself from stumbling into the room. The two of you only come a halt as his knees hit something soft and ironically that is what finally topples both of you over, landing onto the mattress of your bedroom with a soft thud and deep, exhausted grunts.

Your ears ring, and you are ready to lash out at him again despite the physical exhaustion, to strike him square across the face, as --

There is something hard pressing against your crotch.

The world falls silent.

No. No, there's no fucking way. It's got to bea hidden weapon. Must be.

But clearly, it is not. There, between your spread legs, his hard cock presses snugly against your panty-clad pussy.

And he just feels so huge - mouth-watering huge - that your body responds in its own way, hips snapping up, stuttering against the hard bulge. John lets go off a shaky, ragged breath, hand still clutching his gun. And you know, that this is your window.

Feeling the warmth that his body and his hard dick are radiating through his expensive suit, you roll your hips once - a languid, slow motion, rubbing your pussy over his bulge.

And he groans. A deep, primal sound that sounds a little coarse. John is looking at you, starring you down, but there is a shadow dancing over his eyes, turning his brown eyes into deep and dark, black pits that gives him away.

He is horny. The Boogeyman is fucking horny. You would laugh, if the realization wasn't knocking all air straight from your lungs. Because it just another reminder, proof of what he actually is: human.

And what a sight he is to see - eyes turning darker every second, his chest heaving with every breath and making it seem like his shirt is going to pop a button or two any second now, his cock prodding against its restraints and your clothed cunt.

It makes you want him. The thought leaves you dizzy, makes you gasp.

Apparently, that is all he needs to roll his hips back into yours. And that - that is just unfair. It's playing dirty. It's, it's -- His dick feels huge as it trails along your folds, has the muscles in your abdomen clenching.

"Fuck", you breathe, a little overwhelmed with and helpless at the sudden surge of lust that ignites your body, the wetness pooling between your legs.

John is not saying anything, just stares you down while he continues to slooowly roll his hips into yours, grinds his cock against your cunt. Your pelvis twitches upward as you start to meet his movements, and then you can hear it. He let's go of a deep breath, and it sounds like the faintest moan.

You need to hear more of that. You need more of him, your cunt aching and hole clenching around nothing already.

"John", and this time you say his name - consciously - it sounds a different way of desperate: your voice reduced to a small whisper, torn at the edges by a wanton whimper ripping from your throat.

If it throws him off-guard he does not show it, does not let you see it. Instead, he grabs your chin hard, gaze locking with yours. Dark pupils blown wide, swallowing the honey-brown of his eyes, and your breath hitches.

"Yeah?", he rasps, and it does not take more than one long look from you for him to lean in, to press his lips onto yours.

The kiss tastes of blood and adrenaline and doom, and you relish in it. Relishing the way his lips move against yours and his beard tickles a little, relishing how his tongue presses into your mouth. It feels like he is eating you whole, licking into your mouth, one hand dancing over your waist - featherlight, like he doesn't know how to touch a body without hurting someone, destroying someone.

I will not die today, motherfucker

Your whole body now sings with it, the security of an impending victory, as you roll your hips into his once more, your tongue now licking back into his mouth. For a second you think about how to strike again, now that he is seemingly distracted, but all will to fight leaves your body as one of his hands brushes over your knee, wanders further and eventually rests on your thigh.

The touch is electrifying and then his hand grows braver, his movements more certain, as he grabs your thigh, feels you up. It happens so suddenly, that you gasp into the kiss.

John parts from you, his lips a little plush already. "Oh God", you whisper as you stare Death Turned Human straight in the face, not a single thought remaining in your skull despite your lust.

He doesn't speak, as he gently let’s go off your leg and straightens back up and for a second you think he is going to hurt you, with the way his brows are furrowed - but he doesn't.

Instead, he moves in, right over your comparably tiny frame - a mountain of a man. John kneels above you, his weight pinning you down while he straddles your thighs and Jesus fucking Christ - what a sight he is to see.

Dark locks falling into his forehead, a little sticky with sweat and the bits of blood from the cut your nails gave him moments ago - right above his left eyebrow, still lazily trickling down into his lashes. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, as he hastily gets rid of his jacket, carelessly drops it to the ground. His black button-down clings to his muscular body underneath his waistcoat and his equally as muscular thighs pin you down to the bed, black fabric nearly tearing at the seams. And then there is his hard cock.

It looks as huge as it felt, with the way it bulges his pants, the outline of it clearly visible as it buckles proudly against its restraints. You are certain, you will not be able to close your hand around it fully - not a chance.

One of his hands - the one lacking a finger, which you only now notice and what sends shivers down your spine - wanders over your body, pulling your negligée down in the process, right tit spilling out of the soft silk. He immediately grabs it, cups it with his large hand and squeezes. You mewl, marveling at just how big his hand is, just as his whole body is in comparison to you. His fucked-up finger digs into the flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

John's hand gropes your tit, before he impatiently pulls the neckline down roughly. You sigh, arousal shooting down your spine and tingling in your lower belly, as two of his fingers nudge your nipple, pinch it.

He watches your face intently, as he continues to grope you, rolls your nipple between his fingers. You mewl, breath accelerating a little but it is just not enough and you buck your hips upwards. John grunts in, what you assume is an approving manner, and let's go off your tit, reaches to his belt at his loins.

Quickly pulling a knife from God-knows-where exactly, a sharp blade enters your vision.

You blink, panic seeping through your lust and your legs twitch a little with fear. If John notices it, he neither shows it nor does he say anything, just moves the knife closer to your body.

The blade shines in the dim light as it dances over your exposed thighs carefully, the metal cooly pressing against your skin, before he flicks it and cuts your negligée open. The thin, soft fabric cleanly cut in half it now lazily slides from your aching body, falls to its sides. Your chest heaves, shivers running down your arms and back.

It happens so quickly that you can only blink. As your brain finally catches up with your eyes, you come to realize that he is holding a real fucking tactical knife. You have thrown one once - they are sharp as hell and deadlier than a bullet. The sound of fabric tearing easily, like paper, proves your point.

And John's movements with the blade are so fast that your breath hitches, a little afraid he might cut you. But he does not, instead, he quickly pulls the torn silk off you and away from under you, carelessly tosses it into the dark of the room.

The edge of the blade dances over your skin and you do not dare to breathe, as he trails it up and down your curves, gently nudges your nipples. "I could kill you", he says calmly and then, in lightning speed, presses the blade into the crook of your neck. Your head sinks back into the mattress, in an instinct to flee the sharp edge.

All it does is to expose your neck further and something gleams in John's eyes, as he presses the sharp tip down slowly, carefully nudging your skin with it. The metal is cold and hard and sharp and your breath hitches. Just a little bit more and it might burst your skin, draw blood.

But, to your own confusion, you do not feel threatened anymore. Oddly enough, your nerves tingle with excitement. You blame it on the already high levels of adrenaline that still pump through your veins, rushing back and forth from your brain and your lungs, but a small voice inside of your head whisper gently, deviously, that you know That's not it. And he knows it, too.

It's in his eyes as well, the sheer excitement of it all, the fucked-up pleasure it evokes in the both of you lays heavy in the air.

It turns you fucking on. It turns you on, that the man who - minutes ago - tried you kill you and did hurt you very fucking badly in the process of it, now decides to let you live.

It turns you on, that you are at his mercy.

It turns you on, that he decided to spare you - just for now.

It turns you on, that these large and strong hands holding the knife have that sort of power over you. And thus, as the blade nudges your head back further, you moan.

"I could cut your throat", John's voice is heavy and thick with arousal and you can feel your heartbeat picking up, breath accelerating. His gaze drops down, watches the rapid rising and falling of your breasts hungrily, while another soft moan escapes from your lips.

"Don't", you breathe softly.

The knife practically burns on your skin, and you can feel arousal flooding your clothed pussy, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. John can feel your squirming underneath him, but he can also see your eyes turning watery and dark with lust, pupils blown and a pretty pink spreading on your cheeks, your breath growing shallow. And he just really needs to fucking taste you right now.

As quickly as it appeared, the blade vanishes from your throat before he twirls the knife like the ruthless, reckless professional that he is, and buries it deep to the hilt in the mattress next to you. The sharp sound as it pierces the thick fabric has the hairs on your body standing up, goosebumps rolling over your skin.

"I'll do it later", he rumbles - casually, like he is talking about doing chores or picking up groceries - before hunching over you, grabbing your chin with his fucked-up hand, and kissing you again. His tongue immediately pushes into your mouth, like he is starving to taste you.

John eats you whole, with the way his lips move against yours. His hand cups your face, tongue licking into your mouth, toying with yours. His kiss steals your breath and you start to get dizzy with it, hips bucking. You can feel his lips curling up and then he parts from you, leaving you a gasping mess, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"Let me touch you, John", you whisper, voice a little small because you do not know why you feel that way, and if he will even allow it. But you just need to feel him.

For a long moment his gaze dances over your face and something shifts behind his eyes, like a shadow gets lifted and then very quickly returns. Ultimately, he gives a court nod, so small you nearly miss it and gives you a little more room while straightening back up.

Carefully, as if not to spook him, you dart one hand out, place it on his chest. The muscle is firm underneath his suit and you run your hand along the lapel of his jacket, down and then back up, before it slips beneath it.

John's body radiates warmth under the black fabric of his shirt and your other hand comes up, before you shove the jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor next to the bed.

Your breath hitches.

He is wearing a holster, a reminder of his deadliness, of the gun laying somewhere next to you. Maybe, he sees the fear returning in your eyes, but he is quick to shrug the holster off, throws it into the dark where it clatters onto the wooden floor boards. What is left in front of you are broad shoulders and a muscular chest, the fabric nearly tearing at his movements.

As you run your hands over it, you cannot help yourself - you need to fucking feel him for real.

Quickly making work of his waistcoat and tie you toss both to the side carelessly, before your hands roam his broad chest. His button-down clings snugly against his upper body and you can feel the muscles work beneath the black fabric as your hands brush over them. You tug at the shirt, pulling its tails from his pants before hastily opening the first few buttons. The skin underneath is pale, littered by blue - red - black bruises, birthmarks scattered in between like stars. You pop open the rest of the buttons, greedy to touch him. And as the shirt falls to the sides your hands are already onto his chest, roaming over and admiring the muscular, defined canvas of strength, that violence has painted a pretty picture on.

John is watching you intently as you undress him and then explore his body, your pupils blown wide and dark, mouth agape a little. He is a little taken aback by it - by someone not seeing his body as the ultimate tool of death that it is, but as something else, that he cannot really pinpoint because he can't even look in the mirror without seeing destruction and decay. But the way your gaze wanders over his body, the way you touch him, is different from that and he has not felt anything like it in years.

And John wants. Carnal desire tugs at his brain, shoots arousal between his legs, makes his cock twitch and a low growl escaping his throat.

The sound gets you going: pushing yourself up with one hand, the other wrapping around his strong neck for leverage as you sit up, mouth immediately clutching to his throat. He tastes of sweat and after-shave - sharp and musky - and you run your tongue over his skin greedily, licking and sucking at the skin while your naked body presses against his.

It disarms him. The gentle touch that you put his body up to, while everything still aches from plowing through the better half of your father's militia and beating the hell out of you, confuses him. Your touch, your lips on his skin are soft and not aiming to hurt - instead, they grow more and more needy, wanton and hasty, as you lick over his bruised skin, tasting his sweat. Your hands over his abdomen caress his defined muscles, in awe of his utter strength, thumbs brushing through the soft and dark trail of hair leading beneath the waistband of his trousers. And all John can do, is watch, his gaze locking with yours as goosebumps erupt on his skin.

And you - oh you; your head swims with the way you turn this animal into a human again, unlock a different set of animalistic needs within him and hearing John's breath growing heavy really fucking does it for you, feeling his scarred and beaten-up skin underneath your hands, wrapping them around the deadly machine that is his body. It makes you want more.

Shedding his blood-stained shirt off of his shoulders, your hands roam over his upper back - feeling the scars there: of knives, larger and small ones and round ones of bullets that once pierced his skin. There is something else, a burn scar, in the shape of a cross and he hisses as your fingers brush over it, nails digging into the stunted skin.

It pulls John out of his stasis, reminds him of who he is and you can feel the air swinging with it seconds before he moves. His large hands wrap around your shoulders and then he pulls you off him, throws you back onto the mattress. You yelp, eyes growing wide as you watch his face as it turns from lightly dazed back to stern, wild, with his brows furrowed.

"That's enough", he says, voice coarse and it still feels like a small victory, even though he spreads your legs roughly, hands digging deep into your thighs - hard enough to bruise - before he kneels between them. He yanks your body forward at the back of your knees, watches your tits bounce and then leans in, his lips immediately attacking your throat, your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft against your skin, his beard tickling a little as it brushes over your tits, your stomach, your thighs while his tongue licks fat stripes over your nipples and down down down your upper body, right to your navel. One of his hands creeps up your body once more and roughly cups your tit, squeezes, and gropes it, rolls your hardened nipple between his index and middle finger. His stunted ring-finger digs deep into your tit and you gasp, hips bucking. John's lips suck and nibble at your skin, before eventually ghosting over your pubic bone, teasing you before assaulting your thighs again, teeth biting down gently into the soft flesh. You gasp and moan while he gropes your body, inhales your scent - as you watch how his lips, tongue, and teeth dance over your thighs, moving closer to your cunt.

John finally, finally, puts his mouth onto your pussy, peppers open-mouthed kisses around your clit, before clothing his lips around it and sucking on it hard through your panties. Your hips buck as a high-pitched moan erupts from your throat, hands flying into his greying locks.

"Fuck", you whine, feeling fresh wetness flooding your folds, dampening the thin fabric further. John can see the outlines of your wet pussy pressing against your panties and parts from your clit momentarily, only to lick a fat stripe over your clothed cunt, watching it twitch.

"That's fucking pretty", he rasps, gaze locking with yours and you feel all air leaving your lungs. His eyes are so fucking dark, like gleaming black pits swallowing you whole, his breath a little flat with arousal.

You want him to fuck you. Really fuck you. To plow you open, rail you until you cannot sit nor walk. He is already so so close to you, but too far away at the same time. "Please", is all you manage to utter out. And it seems to be sufficient enough for him; seems to get across what you want, what you need.

John's fingers wrap around the front of your lace slip, tugging at the fabric - that rubs along your cunt at the sudden motion and has you gasping quietly - and then he pulls. The lace tears easily as he rips it apart, and cool air hits your wet and hot pussy, as he practically peels you out of your underwear, throws it to the side. The look on his face is wild and you can hear him taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal, before he spreads your folds apart with his thumbs, gaze wandering over your plump and flushed cunt.

Teasingly brushing over your clit with his thumb, John watches your reaction intently. And fuck, you do not disappoint. Throwing your head back, you moan, drawing in a deep breath through your opened mouth that heaves your chest, your eyelids fluttering.

You are dying for him to touch you and as he does, it feels like your body catches fire - lust washing away the dull pain in your limbs and near your ribs.

"Oh God", you breathe out as his thumb draws another wide and slow circle over your clit, your hands darting out and grabbing the sheets "Please."

And John complies, his thumb rubbing over your clit in a slow but steady rhythm.

Gasping, your hands clutch the sheets, knees darting away from each other, giving him more space. John accepts the invitation, grabs one thigh hard, fucked up ring-finger digging deep into your skin. His fingers move further, abandons your clit and dance over your folds, down to your hole. It flutters as two of his digits tease it, gently circling around it.

"Please", you whine once more, lifting your hips a little, a desperate noise leaving your throat. John smirks to himself, before pushing two of his fingers into you.

The stretch is sudden and bigger than expected and you moan coarsely, as he pushes his digits along your walls deeply and nestles them into your seeping hot cunt up to his knuckles. And Jesus, you feel so full already; your head swimming as you consider how big his cock must feel, then.

Your breath goes quick and shallowly as he starts to move them, and then he leans in. Nudges your clit with the tip of his tongue, licks over it.

You feel like combusting on the spot: your nerves tingling with arousal, your whole body still aching from the beating you gave each other earlier - the pain in your back blooming as you stretch it with your hips desperately shoving themselves near his touch - your pussy squeezing his fingers.

John pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, his tongue rubbing and circling your clit and soft, needy moans fall from your lips. Obscene, wet sounds fill the air, mingle with your moans and heavy breathing. His lips close in around your clit, sucking at it while his fingers rub along your spongy walls and your cunt squeezes them hard as fresh wetness floods your folds, your squirt wetting his beard and dripping down on the sheets below.

You can hear - feel - John humming against your pussy, peppering the wet skin with open mouthed kisses, licking over it, and tasting your slick.

You feel so fucking good - lust pulsating through your veins, loins on fire - and your head falls to the side, body rocking with sharp gasps and your mouth agape, eyelids fluttering as --

There's the gun. And the knife.

You could easily grab either one or the other next to you, pull the blade out of the matress or the hammer back; put a bullet right between his eyes or plow the blade deep deep into his skull. Killing the Boogeyman. Killing Baba Yaga.

That would do wonders to your family's business. It would emancipate you from it, you would be free. Free to rule.

"Thinking 'bout killing me?", John rumbles, tongue licking a fat stripe over your cunt, nudging your clit. Your gaze flickers back to him: hair a mess, eyes gleaming darkly, hands on your thighs to keep your legs spread. He does not look surprised. Neither does he look worried.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head: he is toying with you. Has been the whole fucking time. The wolf hunting the deer, running a few rounds through the woods to weaken it; its breath whistling with exhaustion, long legs buckling before it collapses - an easy kill. An easy kill for an old wolf, one, that can't quite handle a real hunt anymore.

But maybe, just maybe - judging from the look in his eyes - he got lost in his own game. Its reins slipped from his bloody hands, the wolf tumbling to the ground.

Looking back at him, your lips curl into a sweet smile. "Not anymore", your hand darts out, brushing the loose strands of dark hair from his face - the soft gesture leaving him visibly confused -, "John."

Two can play this game. And maybe, just maybe, the deer can tire the wolf out first.

Something gleams in John's eyes, dances over them like a shadow and he seems to accept the challenge - readying to tire you out - tongue licking over your clit once more, making you shiver and mewl, as he pulls his fingers out of your dripping hole. You feel empty and --

"Do you really think, you could kill me?", he rumbles, voice deep and rough around the edges, "Stupid slut."

And then, quicker than your brain can process it, his hand comes down on your dripping wet pussy.

Your breath hitches, topples over and leaves your throat as a raw, needy moan. Softly stinging pain blooms between your folds and sets your nerves on fire. Blame it on the bruises, blame it on the pain you both inflicted on each other moments ago, but: it riles you up. Mingles with your aching bones and aching cunt, has you arching your back.

"Y'really think you could kill me", he doesn't sound offended, not even amused - voice plain, like he is inquiring if you really believed the earth to be flat. Like you really are stupid.

And you start to feel stupid, too. There was never a chance. You never had a chance. Your death was sealed, determined the second John stepped into the hotel.

You were stupid to believe you could outrun or beat him. You are stupid. And John has every right to show you, teach you, punish you for it.

Giving your cunt another firm slap, John watches your hips twitch, hears your pussy squelching and soft moans falling from your lips. "Shit", you sigh and he slaps your wet pussy once more, feels your slick folds wetting the palm of his hand.

"D'you like that, girl?", and as your only response are wanton gasps falling from your mouth John chuckles deeply, gives your pulsating cunt another two firm slaps. Seeing how he is pulling you apart, how good he makes you feel really seems to do it for him, gets him quite talkative.

"Uh-huh", you make dumbly, quite illiterate, watching him stroking your flushed, hot cunt with two of his fingers. Shivers run down your spine.

And then he leans back in, licks a fat stripe over your sensitive, flushed cunt, from the hole up to the clit.

You squirm, mewl as his beard brushes over your overstimulated skin, leaving a slight burn that mingles deliciously with a fresh wave of arousal that floods your body scalp to toes.

The muscles in your abdomen clench as two of his fingers circle your fluttering hole and then push in, rubbing along your plush walls agonizingly slowly and you can feel yourself tightening around it. Your juices squelch from your cunt as you squirt against his tongue and your slick runs down your folds, wets his fingers and palm while his tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your sweetness.

John pushes is fingers deeper as you moan and sigh, hands fisting his hair and hips moving against his tongue, his digits thrusting into you.

"Oh god", you huff as his lips close in around your clit, sucking on it and the tip of his tongue flicking against it occasionally.

Another wave of fresh wetness floods your cunt as you squirt once more, wetting the sheets below, your slick running down John's wrist.

John parts from your clit, nudges it with his tongue, his beard glistening with your juices.

"Yeah, that's fucking it", another one of his thick fingers pumps itself into your tight little hole and his other hand - also slick with your juices - grabs your thigh, "That's a good girl."

You feel so full, your spine feels like it's on fire and your brain tingles with it, sends wave of pleasure down down down your body; muscles in your loins clenching, chest heaving. It becomes all too much as he leans back in, rubs his tongue over your clit, lips sucking and teasing your folds.

The slight burn of John's beard tickling your plush, hot cunt. His fingers working your open and stretching your tight little hole open far and wide, obscene squelching sounds filling the air as he works you open, brushing against your g-spot occasionally and making you see stars.

But it's too little. It's just not enough.

"Fuck", you whine as John's thick fingers brush over your g-spot with quite some force, tongue lapping at your seeping cunt, "Shit, please. Please, just fuck me, please!"

You can feel him grinning against your wet cunt, beard a little sticky with your juices, letting go of your pussy with an obscene pop. "Yeah", he licks his lips, tastes you on his tongue, "D'you want my cock?"

And that - that might be what makes you lose your mind. Because yes. Yes, you do.

You have been craving to touch it, to feel it since it had pressed against your clothed pussy earlier. Thus, all dignity leaves your body with one, clean whine that breaks free from your throat.

"Yes, fuck - oh god, John", you brabble, legs falling apart further, inviting him in, his digits sinking deeper into your soaking wet hole, "Shit, please fuck me, John - please, please, please --"

Pleas are still falling from your lips like a chant, as a surprising noise breaks the silence, so strangely beautiful that it has you nearly shuddering: John is laughing. It's a nice baritone sound, and the fine lines around his eyes crinkle with it - it's so beautiful, that it drowns the world out. You watch him in awe, as he shakes his head, avoids your gaze.

"Jesus. Look at you", he huffs, voice dripping thickly with amusement, "If you need it that badly--"

Straightening back up and kneeling between your legs, John slips his fingers from your cunt and makes quick work of his belt, trousers, and boxers. The second he frees is cock, you start to drool like a fucking pavlovian-dog.

His dick is so fucking huge. It is nicely curved and cut, the bulbous pink head glistening with pre-cum and a thick, pumping vein at the bottom that rakes from the base to the tip, as it rests between trimmed, dark pubic hair. His cock bobs against his abdomen as it bounces free, smears the pre-cum along the pale skin, twitches at the sudden contact. And Jesus fucking Christ, you just want to fucking touch it, feel its velvety skin in your palm. But you just know that you won't even be able to wrap your hand around its base fully, it's impossible, it--

"I-it won't fit", you whisper, a little taken aback by his sheer size.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby."

John takes his cock in one hand, thumb right beneath its head, and rubs it against your slit. And Jesus fucking Christ. Your hips snap up, meet his movements, and he grunts while he spreads his pre-cum along your cunt, gathers your slick. The thick head of his dick prods against your entrance and you take a deep breath, looking down between your legs. You watch how he slooowly pushes in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion, the delicious stretch making you moan.

His cock feels so fucking big, hot, and heavy, as he nestles the tip in, your hole clenching around it. John's brows furrow, and he doesn't wait long until he pushes his cock in further.

The thick base starts to stretch your slim rings of muscles, a sharp pain shooting through it. He can feel your hole protesting, can see you wincing. "Breathe, baby", he hums, "Let me do the rest."

His coarse voice mingles with his words and the waves of pleasure shooting through your body despite the dull pain, conjures up a pretty pretty image that floods your brain - there's sunlight everywhere, orange rays of it hitting a bed covered in white sheets, sweaty bodies on top of it; limbs entangled, hands intertwined with their golden rings shining brightly in the warm light, heavy breathing and sloppy kisses, and lazy thrusts as his cock fucks you awake. The thought makes you dizzy, your legs falling apart and hole fluttering open, inviting him in.

The slight burn leaves you a gasping, whimpering mess as he pushes himself in deep, nestles his huge cock in between your aching, hot, and tight walls.

And John feels like he is going to pass out. No blow to the head, no bullet to the chest, no knife to the stomach could ever make him feel as dizzy as the feeling of your hot cunt squeezing him does right now. His whole body is vibrating with want and lust and he just really hopes that you don't notice that he has gotten a little rusty. The thought quickly gets drowned-out as he looks down, where his thick cock practically splits you open, vanishes in your hole.

"Shit", he huffs out, places one large hand on your stomach and thrusts. Feeling himself moving inside of you has him moaning, gaze shooting up to you, meeting your eyes, as his hand presses down. "You feel me right here, baby?", he rasps and you nod, mouth agape by the sheer force of his thrust, tip of his cock prodding your cervix.

John can see his cock moving inside of you, the way your stomach bulges a little. He gets a little dizzy with, and then his eyes make the mistake of moving up to your face. And it takes a whole lot of fucking will-power of him to not just thrust and thrust and thrust and fuck you until you cry, bleed.

You are so fucking pretty. Mouth agape you watch how his cock vanishes between your legs, splits your cunt open, with his eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks flushed. Your lips are plush and red from his assault.

Your hands grip the sheets and your breasts heave with your deep breaths, that grow a little more flaccid. Next to you lays his gun, knife still buried into the mattress. His eyes drop to the weapons and his breath hitches. And for a split second, like a flash of light, he wonders what in God's name he's doing here. He is a professional. The Ballerina works like that. He doesn't.

A sweet, sweet noise rips him out of his thoughts. "J-john", you mewl, eyes still trained on his massive dick splitting you open, "I-it, it's --"

"Yeah?", he breathes, the sound all soft and careful around the edges.

"Heavy", you breathe.

"Does it hurt?", he kind of wants it to. Make you pay for what you did to him. He kind of doesn't want it to. Make you enjoy what he's got to give.

John realizes he is fucked.

You nod, head flying back into the cushions, while your brows dart together.

John's free hand flies to your clit, nudges it gently, before slowly rubbing wide circles over it. You gasp, as you feel fresh wetness flooding your cunt and dripping down your folds to where his cock splits your hole open, pools around it. He carefully pulls out a little and then pushes back in, assisted by your slick. The way you moan spurs him on and the circles on your clit grow faster and smaller.

Aching your back, you lean into the touch. "That's a good girl", he whispers, voice raw and coarse, dripping with lust and the exhaustion of holding back. John bottoms out, while continuing to rub your clit and he can feel your walls growing plush, your hole fluttering around his dick, relaxing with your hot, seeping cunt inviting him in. "Feels good?"

"Yeah, fuck", you feel like you are being split open, with his thick cock filling you to the brim and rubbing along your walls with every little movement, the thick head prodding gently against your cervix, "Shit, John."

It feels so fucking good, all thoughts being washed away from your brain as he starts to move carefully, thrusts into you once, twice. You moan, lips slightly parted, before your gaze flies to him.

And Fuck. John's chest is flushed a little, muscles of his abdomen flexing with every thrust while his gaze is trained down to where his cock fucks into you, brows darted together a little and his breathing audible.

"John?", you whisper, and his gaze immediately shoots up to you as your comparably tiny hand wraps around the wrist of his hand that is still rubbing your clit.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck me."

For a long moment, he just looks at you and you think - no, you are convinced - that you can see a glimpse of the human being he once was. Caring, sweet and gentle; as he seems to really take it into consideration if you are ready yet, if you know what you are begging for.

Apparently, he does deem you prepared enough, and the soft gaze gets replaced by a dark gleam as all gentleness vanishes from his face once more. Without a warning, John rolls his hips back only to thrust into you again, deep, and hard, immediately picking up a quick rhythm.

It comes as a genuine surprise to you and you gasp, mewling but it quickly feels just so fucking good, practically lights your body up and leaves every nerve-ending on fire, each thrust has you moaning loudly.

It spurs him on, makes him grunt and for a while, you both just watch him gliding in and out of your tight hole, with him feeling your muscles squeezing him and you feeling his cock stretching your open further and further. Your lips as slightly parted and his brows are furrowed as he rolls his hips into yours and you feel time getting lost on you, the only thing of importance remaining is the feeling of him filling you up. John's hands roam your body, wandering over your thighs and your stomach, your hips before angling your leg, pushing the heel of your foot on his shoulder, and grabbing your ankle with one hand, his dick slips into you even further, balls slapping against your ass heavily with each thrust.

You can tell that John has not fucked in a long, long time. It's not the way he does it - all fluid, languid thrust of his hips, muscles dancing under the soft skin. It's mostly the way he pants and grunts - sounds just as desperate as you feel. And still, he has the stamina of a racehorse.

You can feel that he wants to prove it, too, as his free hand grabs your thigh and hoists your other leg over his hip bone, practically pulling your lower half off the bed in the process. Your pelvis now clings to his, obscene sounds of his cock fucking into your wet pussy filling the air while he huffs with his thrusts, yet does not slow down.

The grip on both, your ankle and your thigh are hard, and you are certain his hands will leave a bruise but you just cannot bring yourself to care. Deep down you know, that someone will see them: your maids, your friends, your family.

But all thoughts, all worries get swapped from your brain as your gaze wanders up from where John's dick hammers into you steadily, rakes over his defined stomach and chest and finally, finally lands on his face.

He looks downright, utterly, and breathtakingly -- pornographic.

John's dark pupils blown wide gleaming with arousal, his cheeks are slightly blushed and a thin layer of sweat makes him glow in the dim light of the living room falling onto the bed. It surrounds him like a halo, a Saint of Death and Decay, with his dark hair falling into his forehead and onto his shoulders. He brushes it out of the way with his stunted hand, a ragged breath making his chest heave. There is still some of your slick wetting his beard.

You can't help your mind from going there, from wondering how different things could have been. What it would be like if you had met me in a bar instead of him entering your suite, leaving the hallway behind him looking like a slaughterhouse. Maybe he would have laughed at your jokes, in the dim light of your favorite bar in the city. Maybe he would have liked the same music as you do. Maybe, just maybe, he would have brought you home only to stay the night and fuck you until you would have lost your goddamn mind.

Your hand wanders down your body, strokes your waist and hip in the process, before it languidly drops between your spread legs, two fingers darting out and rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.

John moves quickly, his usual deadly precision shattering your peaceful fantasy, his hand ditching your thigh and closing in around your waist. "Don't you fuckin' touch yourself", he growls, and it's the first time you hear real, actual emotion dwelling in his throat - not his toneless, cold and mechanical rumble. He sounds pissed. Offended.

And the best part is: it seems to get him fucking going.

John leans in, your calf still resting on his shoulder and the slight pain of the stretch is delicious as he nearly folds your body in half. You can feel his dick sliding in even deeper into your hole and you gasp and whine, one hand coming up to dig into his biceps to just hold on. Hold on, while he pounds into you with perfectly angled, deep and strong thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every single one of them.

You know that the suite's door is in shambles, that anyone could walk in here and see you having your brains fucked out by the man who is here to kill you - but you don't care. Part of it is, because the gun is still resting next to your head on the sheets. You could just grab it and shoot anyone dead in heartbeat, whoever is trying to disturb the pleasure that shoots through your body.

But it is also him.

It's the way John is towering over you, back hunched, looking all wide and powerful and deadly, with the way he shields your body from view and harm as he thrusts into you. As he pushes all his rage, adrenaline, and strength into your tight hole, groans, and pants into your ear.

There is nothing you can do, despite holding onto him, nails digging into his back, clutching his broad shoulders, fingers running over his tattoos desperately. He is fucking the living daylight out of you, your body moving like a ragdoll underneath the mountain of muscles and strength. Your cunt is being split open by his cock, as you feel him hammering into you and you feel like you are going to lose your mind, panting and moaning with each of his thrusts.

"John, fuck", you moan sweetly, eyes rolling into your skull as he pounds into you, "You feel so fucking good, shit --"

"Yeah", he huffs, his forehead slowly sinking onto yours, "You too, baby."

You can see his eyelids fluttering, feel his upper body heaving beneath your hands, smell the blood on his skin, mingling with his musky scent. Blaming it on the sickening cocktail of hormones that is flooding both - your brain and your body - you lean in, your lips desperately smacking against his.

And Jesus Fucking Christ. Does John kiss you.

Kisses you like he is starving for it, licking back into your mouth - his body pressing yours into the mattress with his whole weight and muscle, while still thrusting into you.

Your hands tangle into his hair, tugging at it. John moans against your lips and your stomach flutters at the sound, and you want more. One hand moves to lay at the crook of his neck and your tongue presses against his, licking back into his mouth. Adding some force to his neck you invite John deeper into the kiss, and he follows suite, steals you the last bit of air your lungs were holding. Panting you part from him, thumb brushing over the crook of his neck.

Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself. You feel so alive and you want him to wreck you, to leave something behind that you will remember for every day your heart continues to beat. Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself but to whisper: "Harder."

John blinks, hips stuttering. And then, he grunts. His hand digs into your waist as he grabs you there, hold you in place will his hips rut into you. Picking up a near brutal rhythm, obscene sounds of your slick being pushed in and out and in out of your hole as he jackhammers into your g-spot, the bedframe rattling as John's thrusts pound it into the wall - leaving you a gasping and moaning mess. His belt clinks with his thrusts and you cling onto him, sharp whines escaping your throat.

"John John John", his name leaves your mouth like a mantra, sharp and high-pitched. His head falls forward, dark locks brushing over your cheek as his temple rests against yours and then you hear it.

John moans.

It's a deep, carnal sound. Your stomach flutters and lust shoots through your body at the noise, your tight cunt squeezing his thick cock as you squirt around his cock like a broken fucking hose, wetting his pubic hair. You can feel it rubbing along your wet folds, the sensation making you mewl, leaves your hips shuddering.

"Shit", you breathe, hands cradling his muscular back and then you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, accompanied by yet another one of his sweet, sweet moans, "Fuck, John--"

He raises his head and your gazes connect, before he leans in, presses his lips onto yours once more. The kiss is surprisingly soft and in stark contrast to the way he ruts and pounds into you and then he hits the spot once more and -

Everything goes white as your muscles clench and unclench suddenly, as you nearly scream against his lips; your hole practically milking his cock as you cum, pussy gushing and squirting around him like a broken hose.

John continues to fuck you through your orgasm and his heavy breathing reaches your ears through the cotton candy, that slowly wraps you in as everything turns light and bright. He moans deeply against your cheek as he comes, too - shoots hot ropes of cum into you and paints your walls with it.

His movements still as he buries himself deep into you, cock twitching with each thick rope of his cum and you can feel him fill you up, as his massive frame slowly sinks down onto you.

Your legs grow heavy and the stretch of your left leg is turning painful and you - a little clumsily - pull it away from his shoulder, stretch it out. Your limbs start to shake and you close your eyes, drawing in deep breaths through your nose.

The room is silent, the air heavy with the musky scent of sex.

Your chest still heaves with the remains of your orgasm, bliss still spreading in your brain and your veins, making you feel like you are flying. Your heart is still racing, as you feel him moving again.

Blinking up at him, you can see him grabbing the gun.

"Don't", you say softly, voice coarse from screaming your lungs out in pleasure just moments ago, "Please, don't." You are not ready to scream yet again. Not ready to scream in pain, instead of pleasure.

John does not reply. He pulls the hammer back, checks the chamber - all with one hand.

"Kill him instead, please."

He freezes, eyes locking with yours. "Who?", he sounds just as exhausted as you. The wolf, tired out. The deer, bleeding, limping.

Call it Post Nut Clarity, call it Finally Taking Your Future In Your Own Hands, call it Emancipating Yourself. Call it Having Wrapped A Deadly Assassin Around Your Pinky.

You were not safer here. You never were. Just more isolated. Easier to locate.

Easier to kill.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head, your vision swimming.

See? I will not die today.

"My father. Kill him."

#i'm back girlies #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #smut #my writing #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut

[mint-yooxgi]

{9} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Jongho)

Words: 12,135

Warnings: Violence. Arguments and verbal fights. OC gets some sense slapped into them by Reina, literally. Mentions of blood and of small cuts being inflicted to a wrist to draw blood. Mental Illness: mentions of anxiety, depression, and PTSD. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Not me staying up to post this when I have work in a few hours lmfaoooo anyways, this chapter turned out much longer than I expected! So, yay!! I'm quite happy with how it turned out, cause I feel like the stress of the situation is a sort of catalyst to the argument that ensues. I'm just glad I was able to get in everything that I wanted. It definitely starts off a bit tense, but the ending is quite light and happy. Also, potential smut next chapter anyone? 👀 As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

The moment Yeosang feels you brush against his mind, he’s appearing in Reina’s apartment.

“Sweet baby, Jesus.” Reina places a hand over her racing heart as he now stands across from her in the living room. “You weren’t kidding when you said they can just appear.”

“I told you,” you chuckle, moving over to stand beside him. 

You notice that she rests just a tad bit shorter than him as she looks him over, her arms crossed over her chest.

“So, you’re Yeosang.” She takes a moment to look him up and down. “The musician.”

“And you’re Reina.” His brow quirks slightly in amusement. “The best friend.”

“The one and only.” She grins, tucking the tome further beneath her arm. “Though, you had longer, blond hair the first time we met.”

Yeosang spares a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes. “That I did.”

Briefly, you lean into him, explaining lowly what Reina remembers of the incident.

He nods in understanding.

“So,” Reina’s voice draws both of your attention back to her, “you play the violin.”

“I do.” Yeosang confirms with another brief nod of his head.

“A little birdie told me that you learned a specific melody for her.” There’s a knowing lilt to her voice as she says this. “Well done.”

The corners of Yeosang’s lips quirk upwards. A certain pride begins to fill his chest seeing as he cannot get a read on Reina’s thoughts anymore. There seems to be a spell blocking her mind from his, keeping her opinion of him secret. Though, from what she’s implying right now, he assumes that he’s gotten her approval. Or at least, some of it.

“You can do your best friend interrogation later,” you step over to playfully nudge her shoulder. “We’ve got another pressing matter to attend to.”

“Right, right,” she waves you off as the two of you step back over to Yeosang. “Sorry, I can’t help it. Now that I know, I need to make sure they pass my inspection and everything. They may be Kings, but I’m still your best friend.”

You snort out a laugh just as Yeosang places a hand onto each one of your shoulders.

“You know that your approval of them won’t change how I feel.” You grin. “Also, brace yourself: bend your knees, and close your eyes. It helps with the nausea the first few times.”

You barely make out the confused furrow of her brow when Yeosang is teleporting the three of you back home. Once the foyer is in view, you notice Reina stumble forward, and you immediately move to steady her on her feet.

“I warned you,” you chuckle, helping her straighten back upright.

“I don’t think there’s a proper warning for that.” She grumbles, brushing some stray flyaways out of her eyes. She blinks a few times after that, further clearing her vision.

From down the hallway, you notice a few of the other guys file out of Jongho’s room. The commotion must have drawn their attention, and you watch as Reina tenses ever so slightly as the commanding presences of the Kings of the Realm washes over her. The worried pull of their brows could definitely be mistaken for looks of irritation.

Only, she doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it all that much for Sudaem is stepping out of the room.

A gasp of awe escapes Reina, bypassing all of the males to walk right up to the gorgon.

“You must be Sudaem.” She extends her hand out to the female. “I’m Reina, baby caster. Nice to meet ya!”

Sudaem seems taken aback by Reina’s forwardness, and you can only chuckle fondly as you lightly push your best friend into the room.

“We can do proper introductions later.” You finally step into Jongho’s bedroom, seeing that he hasn’t moved a single inch since you last left him two hours ago. Stella seems to be absent as well. “We’re on a tight schedule here.”

“I’ve prepared everything that I could,” Sudaem addresses you. “There are a few things left that the spell requires, other than the caster’s performance.”

“What else does the spell need?” You inquire, watching as Sudaem moves over to the side to grab her own spell book that has been resting open on top of the dresser this whole time. Wordlessly, she hands it to Reina.

“It will need your blood, since you are connected to him in such a way currently.” She says, bringing a brass bowl filled with ash root, along with a few other things, over to you.

Carefully, Reina places her own tome down onto the dresser, balancing the other spell book effortlessly in her hand. You can see her eyes darting over the words on the page, and you just know that she’s taking in all of the instructions with excruciating detail. Her mind is practically racing behind her eyes, suddenly feeling the pressure of this moment building on her shoulders.

“This is a complex spell.” She comments, worried gaze darting over to you.

“It is.” Sudaem is the one to answer, a nod to her head as she holds the bowl beneath your wrist.

You turn to look at the males standing at the side of the room. “I’m going to need a blade.”

You can see the hesitation on their faces even before they say anything.

“If this is going to work-“

“We know, Dearest,” Yeosang grimaces. “We just don’t ever like seeing you injured, no matter the context.”

“I understand that,” you incline your head. “But-“

“I’ll do it,” Hongjoong steps forward, a small dagger appearing in his hand and glinting beneath the candlelight that illuminates the room.

The curtains have long since been drawn, blocking out any and all natural light. Even the door to Jongho’s room has been closed since you’ve all reentered it, only the faint flickering of the flames causing shadows to dance over the walls.

Carefully, Hongjoong grabs your wrist in his free hand, thumb gently stroking over your unmarred skin. He glances upwards briefly, noticing how you nod subtly at him. A small, reassuring smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“How much blood is needed?” He directs his question towards Sudaem, not even bothering to break eye contact with you.

“At least five drops.” She replies instantly, holding the bowl steady all the while.

Hongjoong nods his understanding, and you can sense the tension in the room radiating off of the others as he brings the edge of the blade to your skin. A flick of his wrist and blood begins dripping into the bowl beneath you. Yet, as always, the pain of such a wound never comes, and from how intently he seems to be staring at your wrist, you know that he has something to do with it.

Not even ten seconds later, Hongjoong’s thumb is tracing over the small incision. Smooth skin replaces the open wound as he heals you without another word, turning his sharp gaze briefly to Sudaem. She scurries away, moving beside Reina with the bowl after hearing his silent command loud and clear.

This should be plenty of blood, anyways.

“All that’s left is to cast the spell,” Sudaem says, and you notice how everyone’s gaze suddenly turns to Reina.

She blinks. “No pressure, or anything.”

“If you can summon the Eight Kings without knowing what you are, you should have no issues with this spell.” Sudaem comments, and you sense the slightest bit of reassurance leaking into her tone.

Your brow quirks slightly.

Taking a candle into her hand, Reina holds it just above the brass bowl that Sudaem clutches beside her. Lightly, she tilts it, allowing the wax to begin dripping into the mixture periodically. Steam begins to rise from the bowl as Reina begins chanting, focussing her energy into casting this spell for the time being.

The bowl bursts into flames, Reina’s voice echoing throughout the room and commanding your attention. Faintly her eyes begin to glow, the whites taking over every visible colour as an intense wind kicks up inside of the room.

You hold your breath, feeling Hongjoong place a comforting hand onto your shoulder just as you reach for Jongho’s own. You can tell that you’re not the only one holding on to another as a lifeline in this moment, worry clear on all of your features as you glance between Reina and Jongho continuously.

The blaze within the bowl begins to die down, along with the wind. Not even a moment later, all of the candles go out, and the room is shrouded in darkness.

Subconsciously, you tighten your hold on Jongho’s hand.

A blink, and both Mingi and San have relit the candles, bathing the room in a warm amber glow once more. The bowl still smokes, but no longer are Reina’s eyes glowing. The only difference seems to be the rise and fall of her chest as she desperately fills her lungs with air.

“Did it work?” She meets your gaze, a sort of hesitance to her voice.

Some complicated spell that was, there weren’t even multiple components to it.

Quickly, you turn your head to face Jongho, noting the steady rise and fall of his own chest. You don’t notice any physical changes, so you lean into him, lifting your free hand to caress the side of his face.

The whole room goes still, anticipation lingering throughout. Not even the flickering sound of the flames can be heard as you all watch Jongho intently, waiting for that tell tale sign of movement beneath his lids.

Except, it never comes.

Your whole body freezes, heart suffocating painfully inside your chest.

“It didn’t work…” your voice is small, words nothing more than a whisper on your lips.

Tears begin to well in your eyes as your throat tightens. You were betting everything on this spell, not even bothering to think of the consequences of it not working. You had faith in Reina, and you had faith in him.

“You must have done something wrong.” Mingi rounds on Reina, a stern frown pulling at his features.

The gorgon shakes her head, devastation clear on her features. “She didn’t.”

“Did we have all the proper ingredients?” Yunho directs his question towards Sudaem, stepping in beside the stunned gorgon.

Sudaem stands there, hands trembling as she clutches the bowl in front of her. Her lips part periodically, like a fish out of water as her snakes begin shifting restlessly over her head. Her slate grey eyes shine with unshed tears, fear freezing her to her spot.

“It should have worked,” she whispers, whole body beginning to shake. “We did everything right: the ingredients, the preparation, the caster.”

“We knew there was going to be a possibility that it wouldn’t.” Seonghwa keeps his voice low, though you can still hear the panic seeping into his tone.

“Are we sure it was the right spell?” San begins pacing, his hand coming up to support his chin as his mind races with what to do.

“It has to be,” Sudaem answers lowly, blinking a few times to clear her vision. “There’s no other spell he could be under, and this is the only one I know to bring him back.”

You opt to remain quiet, mind reeling with all of this information, and lack there of around you. Desperately, you attempt to come up with a solution for a problem you don’t know all of the variables for, drawing a blank each time.

Hesitantly, Reina shifts over to the dresser. She places the spell book in her hands gently on top of the wood, pulling her own tome closer to herself. Slowly, she begins flipping through the pages, skimming through the words until she finds the section she’s looking for. Once she does, her eyes dart over the lines quickly, brain scrambling to comprehend everything going on around her.

A call of your name from her draws your attention.

“Don’t dissociate just yet, and get your ass over here.” Reina states, quite firmly, without taking her gaze away from the book.

Wordlessly, you move over to her side.

“Dissociate?” There’s a hint of worry to Wooyoung’s voice.

Reina points to the page for you to read before turning around to face the others in the room.

“She’s about to get into her own head again,” she blinks, crossing her arms as she leans back against the dresser. “Can you not see the signs?”

A low warning growl escapes San’s lips.

“Don’t growl at her.” You turn your head to look at him from over your shoulder, brow tugging downwards disapprovingly. “She’s only trying to help.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn back around. Reading the words on the page explaining the ‘Veil of the Hypnos’ spell keeps you grounded for the moment, head spinning with what you can do to save Jongho.

“You all need to keep talking.” Reina instructs. “I’m still new at this whole witching thing, but tell me everything you know about this curse he’s under.”

The several males all share a brief look, but it’s Sudaem who speaks first. Calmly, she explains all that she knows about the spell to Reina. Everything that she’s already told you.

Your body goes still, mind churning as you hear the details once more.

“So, he’s stuck in a plane between this world and the next.” You state, blinking blankly down at the page before you.

“Every second lost he could be straying further from his body.” Sudaem confirms, fingers nervously wringing together. “Not to mention what else creeps through the veil.”

You swallow thickly, lips pursing into a thin line. Softly, you begin to nod to yourself.

Reina spares a look at you out of the corner of her eyes. “I know that look.”

“We just need to bring him back to his body.” You’re somewhat just speaking out loud at this point, but you do not shift your eyes away from that page open before you.

The words ‘connection’ and ‘high emotion’ practically glare back up at you.

You turn to look at Reina.

A silent conversation seems to be happening between the both of you. She tilts her head in inquiry, to which your eyes widen exasperatedly. A moment later, her brow furrows in concern while you begin to nod quite eagerly.

“No.” Her tone is firm as she shakes her head. “No way in hell.”

“What?” There’s an even bigger look of worry pulling on Wooyoung’s face as he looks between the two of you.

“Three-hundred and fourteen seconds.” You say. “That’s all you need to give me.”

“That’s just over five minutes.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows in confusion, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Read the page and tell me that that’s not what it’s implying.” You practically slap your hand over the tome open on the dresser beside you. “I can bring him back."

“There is no way I am putting you under the same curse as him just so you can, what? Stumble your way through the veil and attempt to find him?” She replies, her eyebrows practically raising into her hair as her voice rises in pitch. “I am not killing my best friend. That spell hitting you is suicide.”

A hushed understanding passes over the room and panic immediately seizes each male.

“You’re thinking what?” Seonghwa’s eyes look about ready to bug right out of his head, needing to rest a hand against the wall for support.

“Not if I’m prepared for it!” You counter. 

“We’re not putting you under to lose you, too.” San’s voice is firm, a hint of desperation shining through as he looks to you.

“Petal, we need to think this through.” Yunho’s worried tone comes through, his heart pounding restlessly in his chest.

“I have thought it through.” You turn to them. “If this is the only way we can get Jongho back-“

“It’s not the only way.” Sudaem cuts in, her eyes somewhat glazed over as she stares at the ground in thought.

“It doesn’t matter!” Wooyoung is frantic, crossing the distance between the two of you in an instant and holding you at arms length. “We just got you back! We can’t lose you again.”

“This is my choice, Woo.” You reply, placing your own hands gently atop of his own and sliding them from your shoulders.

“No,” San shakes his head. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“This is insane.” Mingi begins pacing, pulling at his roots once more.

“I’m thinking perfectly fine.” You reply calmly, turning meeting Hongjoong’s wide eyed gaze. “Wasn’t it you who told me that the first step to sanity is embracing the insane?”

“Now is not the time to be arguing about this.” Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest. “Dearest, you can’t say something as reckless as that right now. We might lose our brother, don’t make it so we lose you, too.”

“You won’t lose me.” You shake your head.

“You don’t know that!” There’s genuine fear in Seonghwa’s eyes as he falls to his knees. He looks about ready to start pleading with you in a moment, genuine desperation clear on his features.

“The spell didn’t work when we tried it on Jongho to bring him back,” Hongjoong attempts to keep his voice calm, levelheaded. “What makes you so certain it will work to bring the both of you back this time?”

“I’m connected to all of you, aren’t I?” Your gaze darts around the room, and you notice how Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung have all started to cry.

“Starlight-“

“Hold the fuck up!” Reina cuts in, furious gaze locked on you. “Are you negating the fact that I will not be casting such a spell on my own fucking best friend?”

“Reina-“

“Don’t you, ‘Reina’ me! I’ll admit, we’ve done some stupid fucking shit before, but this takes the cake!” She slams her hand on top of the dresser beside her. “Do you realize what you’re fucking asking of me? In front of them no less?”

Her free hand points in the several male’s direction, clear panic on her features.

“I understand-“

“I don’t think you do!” Her eyes blaze with an unrivalled fury, the whites of her eyes beginning to glow.

“Um, excuse me-“ A timid voice attempts to cut through the thicket of booming arguments being thrown around the room.

“They would be doing the exact same thing for me right now if I had been the one to actually get hit!” You counter, arm flinging out in the direction of the bed Jongho rests upon to point at him. Briefly, your gaze darts around the room. “You’re telling me that none of you would be thinking any differently if you knew that this was your only option left?”

“There’s a difference, Dearest,” Yeosang grimaces. “We are not human.”

“Excuse me-“ The voice is a little firmer this time, but still gets ignored.

“Don’t you dare play the entities card on me right now.” The tears of frustration you so desperately attempt to hold back begin to streak down your face. “What happened to us being equals?”

You fail to miss the side-eyed glance Reina gives you, backing away slowly from the rising tension in the room.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.” Mingi’s voice is low as he freezes in his spot.

“No, what’s not fair is the double standard you all have when it comes to doing things for me.” You counter, voice rough with the rawness of your emotions. “So, you all can risk your lives for me whenever it pleases you, but when I wish to do the same for one of you it’s suddenly not okay? I’m the reason Jongho is in this godforsaken mess in the first place. Am I not allowed to want to right my wrong? Am I not allowed to want to save a man I love?”

“You know we’ve never blamed you for this, Baby.” San states, wiping away his tears using the back of his hand.

“Petal, we’ve talked about this,” Yunho grimaces slightly, taking a half step towards you only for you to avoid his reach.

“If this is the only option we have, then I will gladly sacrifice myself for someone that I love.” You see the devastation on their faces as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“But, what about us?” Wooyoung’s voice is small, probably the quietest you’ve ever heard him.

“What about you?” You cross you arms over your chest, a slight frown pulling at your features.

“Are you that desperate to ignore our own feelings on the matter?” San meets your gaze, and you can feel your throat tighten.

“Of course not!” You immediately reply, shaking your head.

“We swore that we would always protect you, and now you want to risk your life for a plan that might not even work?” Mingi shifts restlessly from foot to foot, his hair sticking out in odd ends.

“We don’t know it won’t work.” You reason. “Besides, I’ve survived much worse than some measly little curse.”

Collectively, their breaths hitch.

“Don’t go there.” Seonghwa’s hands brace himself on the floor, his tears spilling freely onto the hardwood beneath his palms.

A low, warning call of your name sounds from Reina.

“We have already almost lost you more times than we ever thought we would,” Hongjoong states, keeping his voice low. “Don’t add another mark to the tally.”

“Then, what are we supposed to do, Hongjoong?” Your hands desperately run over the top of your head, fingers digging into the skin of your skull.

He remains silent, the others offering no other solutions, either.

“This is my choice,” you breathe out. “A choice I know all of you would be making if that were me on that bed right now.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Wooyoung replies, quite exasperatedly. “Your guilt is blinding you from reason!”

“You think I’m doing this solely out of guilt?” You turn your gaze to the younger demon standing near you, your eyes blazing with a sort of pained fear. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Do you think that we don’t know exactly what you’re going through right now? That we don’t understand exactly how you’re feeling?” Seonghwa’s voice is strained, glancing up at you through tear filled eyes. “What’s not fair is you making light of the worst night of our lives.”

Your breath catches, and you swear your heart stops. A second later, and your hands are balling into fists at your sides.

“Do you really think that night was any better for me?” Your eyes are bloodshot from all the crying you’re doing, voice cracking as your whole body shakes. “You only got to see the aftermath. I had to live through it! I’m still living it. Every time I close my eyes, if I don’t watch my every goddamn thought, she is there. She is everywhere I look, and she continues to torture me even in death. She has woven herself so deeply into my life that each time I think I pull a thread loose, another appears to take her place.”

“Petal,“ Yunho takes a concerned step towards you again, nothing but sorrow pulling at his features.

“Do you think I’m not terrified to wake up every morning, only to discover that this has all been some elaborate fabrication that she has made in my mind to continue torturing me with?” Your admission has them all freezing in their spots, tears beginning to fall freely down all of their faces. “I never want another person to experience even an ounce of pain that she made me suffer through, and now Jongho could fucking die because of my mistake!”

“Don’t make his sacrifice into something horrific.” Mingi shakes his head, voice barely above a whisper as he attempts to reign in his emotions for the moment. “He would have done what any of us would have in that situation.”

“That’s exactly my point!” You raise your hand a bit exasperatedly in the air. “You cannot avoid the truth that’s always been right in front of you. That’s not fair at all.”

“You think that it’s fair to Wooyoung that you avoid the dance studio because of what she did to you in it?” Yeosang’s voice cutting through the darkness of the room surprises even you. He keeps it steady, watching you with a cautious gaze the whole time.

The aforementioned male remains quiet, a new sense of stillness travelling through the room as Wooyoung suddenly avoids your gaze when you look to him.

“Do you think it’s fair to Seonghwa that you do the same to his tailor shop?” Yeosang adds lowly. San places his hand onto the elder’s shoulder in worry, but Yeosang just shrugs him off before continuing. “You haven’t even looked at the art room or the garden since everything happened. Do you think that’s fair to Yunho? To Hongjoong?”

“Yeosang-“

Yunho’s own worried protest gets cut off by the aforementioned male.

“You haven’t even touched the piano since that day at your parents house,” he continues, keeping his tone steady as he watches you physically trembling before his very eyes. He can tell that you’re doing whatever you can to hold yourself together at this point in time, but you’re simply a moment from falling apart. “Do you think doing something this reckless will reclaim those parts of yourself that you lost? Have you even tried getting them back?”

A brief silence.

“Maybe I don’t want them back.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet you fail to realize exactly how your words sound to everyone in that room.

Reina’s eyes are wide as she watches the crestfallen expressions overtake each male’s face. He gaze darts around the room, noticing how nearly all of them barely keep themselves together, whole bodies shaking as the two tallest males fall to their knees.

The sound of the slap reaches your ears before you feel the harsh stinging on your cheek. 

A gasp of surprise escapes Sudaem, her hands coming up to cover her mouth in shock as she stares at the scene before her. Reina’s hand still rests in the air, your head turned harshly to the side as several low warning growls resonate throughout the room.

No matter what the circumstances might be, you are still their Queen, and they will do whatever they can to protect you.

Little do any of you see the way Jongho’s fingers twitch subtly in his sleep.

“How dare you fucking say that in front of me.” Reina’s voice is low as she pulls you upright and holds you firmly at arms length. “Do you even know how that sounded? Directed at them of all people? Pull yourself together. Now is not the time to be arguing about this. You said it yourself, time is of the utmost essence! Sudaem has been trying to tell you all something for the past ten minutes. So, pull your head out of your ass, and stop being a selfish, heartless crab!”

This seems to snap you out of your angry stupor, blinking at your best friend a few times to clear your head. Only, just as you begin to nod along with her words, Reina is torn from you, being pinned to the wall by her throat.

“Don’t you ever speak to My Divine like that again.” Seonghwa’s voice is low as he leans into her, nothing but a harsh whisper on his lips. The eldest looks completely crazed right now, tears streaking down his cheek as his eyes flash in warning.

“Raise your hand against Our Queen like that again, friend or not, and it will be the last thing you ever do.” Wooyoung seethes, gaze pitch black as he stands just behind the eldest for the moment.

“Seonghwa, Wooyoung,” you manage to step over to them, pulling them away from Reina in an instant. “She’s right.” 

Your best friend crumples to the floor, coughing slightly as she attempts to catch her breath.

Turning to face all of the males once more, your shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“We can talk about it later,” Yunho’s voice is soft as he helps Mingi back to his feet. “Okay, Petal?”

A small nod is all he receives in response.

“Geez! You weren’t kidding when you said they’re extremely over protective.” She wheezes, using you as a support as you help her back to her feet.

“You were the one brave enough to slap me in front of them.” You chuckle, feeling all of their eyes on you.

“More like stupid enough.” A weak smile tugs at her lips as she leans on you for the moment. She lets out a chuckle of her own, teasingly nudging your side. “Well, stupid is as stupid does.”

“She’s slapped you before?” There’s a hint of irritation in Mingi’s voice when he says this, head tilting forward the slightest bit in disbelief.

“We’ve been roughhousing since we’ve been young.” You shrug. “She’s the only one allowed to slap me, and I’m the only one allowed to slap her. Only when we’re being ridiculous, of course.”

“She still hurt you.” San stands tense across the room, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Because I was hurting you.” You meet his gaze briefly before turning back to face Sudaem. “My apologies, you were going to say?”

The gorgon straightens a bit in her spot, clearing her throat as she feels everyone’s eyes on her. Nervously, she shifts from foot to foot, her snakes falling silent around her as their tongues flick out to scent the tension slowly dissipating from the air.

“I was just going to say,” she looks to you, “this isn’t our only option.”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s another spell that will put you under, and enable you to walk through the veil without having to use the ‘Veil of the Hypnos’ curse.” She explains.

“Then, what are we waiting for?” You take an eager step forward.

“Petal, we need to talk about this,” Yunho’s worried voice reaches your ears, the events of the past ten minutes still swirling through his mind.

“Hang on a moment, I’m not done,” Sudaem raises a hand in the air in a halting motion. “This one does indeed have a time limit, and you cannot wander too far from your body lest you actually wind up lost in the veil forever.”

You swear you see Mingi pulling out his hair again just as Wooyoung turns around with an exasperated huff.

“There’s no winning with this, is there?” Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head.

“How does it work?” You motion for Sudaem to continue.

“Well, again, since you’re connected, you would have the best chance of finding him if put under.” She begins. “Your mind would essentially be transported to the space between realms and set to wander freely for about five minutes. Then, we’d have to pull you and whoever you’re holding on to back out. At least this way we guarantee you won’t die on contact from the initial casting of the spell.”

“And if I can’t find him?” You spare a glance at all of them around the room. “What then?”

“Then, we’ll take it from there.” Seonghwa sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Your lips tighten into a thin line, turning back to face Sudaem as your thoughts race. Shifting, you rest a hand on top of the dresser to support yourself with as you look down at the ground. Blinking a few times, you think everything over.

“This all has to do with the mind being separated from the body, right?” You spare a glance at Sudaem.

“In a way, yes.” She confirms. “The body cannot live without the mind.”

“What if the mind had a physical attachment to this realm? Would that give me more time? Would it make the spell easier?” You meet her gaze, and you know she can see the gears turning in your mind.

“It’s possible, but I’m not sure.” Sudaem replies honestly. “It might make it easier when you get called back to your body, though. You’d have a direct path back to it, no matter how far you were.”

You nod your understanding, turning to face the several males standing off to the side once more. One brush against all of their strings lets them know exactly what you’re thinking.

The several males share a look.

“We don’t like this, but at least it’s a better option than the other one.” Yunho crosses his arms over his chest.

“We’d rather it be one of us that goes under.” San adds, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“There are things worse than just mist floating around inside the veil.” Seonghwa breathes out, somewhat shakily.

“Then, I’ll be quick. If anything happens, I’ll tug back so you know to pull me out right away.” You state rather firmly, turning back to face Sudaem. “What do I need to do?”

Sudaem spares a glance around the room, the faintest hint of apology on her features as she meets the King’s gazes. Then, taking a deep breath, she begins.

Which is exactly how you find yourself sitting on the edge of Jongho’s bed, his hand held tightly in yours not even five minutes later.

“We’re going to need more of your blood.” Sudaem holds that brass bowl in her hands once more.

Mingi, Wooyoung, and San all curse under their breaths.

“I will gladly bleed again,” you state, rather firmly. “I will bleed as many times as it takes to ensure that this works, and he comes back to us. It’s what I would do for any of you, and I know you would all do the same for me.”

Any words of protest that had been building on their lips fail, frustrated looks of understanding passing over their features. You’re right, and even though they don’t particularly like this, they’ll deal with it. They have to.

Again, it’s Hongjoong that gently slits your skin, taking your pain and making sure to heal you as soon as possible. This time, though, Sudaem paints a symbol over the back of your hand, mirroring it on Jongho’s as his is still held firmly in your own.

Softly, you brush up against that maroon string in your mind before grabbing ahold of it as tightly as you can. This string will be your lifeline to him, and you hope beyond everything that your theory of it guiding you to him is correct.

A second later, you feel the rest of the guys doing the same to you. You don’t even need to look at any of them to sense the worry and slight hesitation that they all have lingering in their thoughts, for you sense it loud and clear through the mind links.

They move in closer.

“You’ll have just over five minutes if this all goes well.” Sudaem tells you, moving over to stand beside Reina who holds the one spell book in her hands.

“Angel, are you sure about this?” Wooyoung’s frantic voice reaches your ears, and you can see the concern still clear as day in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Positive.” You nod, and despite the shakiness to your breath, you believe that this will work.

“Any sign of danger, and you immediately contact us to pull you out.” San reiterates, cupping your cheek and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Okay, Baby?”

“Okay,” you nod your understanding, briefly leaning into his touch before turning away from him.

“We’re right here, Petal.” Yunho steps closer, sitting beside you on the bed and placing a hand onto your back in comfort.

You smile. “I know.”

Lovingly, you brush against their strings. Although it’s slight, you can just tell how much that simple notion helps them to relax.

Lifting your head, you turn to glance at both Sudaem and Reina. “I’m ready.”

Two nods from either female greet you in response. 

“Remember, send a pulse through the bond after every minute that passes so I know how much time has elapsed, and that I have left.” You spare a glance at them out of the corner of your eyes. “After the fifth one, if I don’t tug back immediately, wait fifteen seconds, and then pull me out.”

Nods of understanding are seen around the room from all of them, and you notice how Yeosang comes to kneel beside you. A blink, and he’s grabbing your free hand into his own, clinging to you for dear life. You don’t even have to look at him to know how worried he is. Not only that, but how remorseful he is for the way he spoke to you. The sorrow is written all over his face.

He will never forgive himself if they can’t pull you back out. The last thing he wants is for your final memory of him to be his harsh tone reminding you of your own trauma responses. He knows it wasn’t right of him to say those things and make you feel worse than you probably already do. Especially right now.

“Let’s do this.” Determination shines in your eyes as you look down at Jongho resting on the bed. Silently, you tug on that maroon string connecting your mind to his, sending reassuring thoughts his way.

I’m coming, Baby Bear. You swallow, somewhat nervously. Wait for me.

Not even a moment later, Reina begins immediately focusing on the page before her, while Sudaem holds that bowl close by. Softly, Reina begins chanting, her eyes beginning to glow white as power surges through the room. You can feel the mark on the back of your hand beginning to burn, and when you look down, it begins to glow a deep red. Again, a breeze picks up throughout the room, shifting the flames as shadows dance along the walls.

Then comes the silence, followed immediately by the darkness of all of the candles going out once more.

A blink and the flames are reignited.

“Did it work?” Hesitantly, Reina glances around the room.

All eyes are drawn to the bed where they see your limp body resting in Yunho’s arms. Your eyes are closed, and the symbol drawn in your blood glows faintly. Luckily, your chest seems to rise and fall steadily in even breaths. Faintly, all of the males in the room brush against your mind, holding onto that connection for dear life.

Your five minutes start now.

The first thing you notice when you go under is how light your body suddenly feels. It’s as if you’re floating upon a cloud, swaying gently with the breeze.

Your brow furrows, and groggily, you begin to blink your eyes open. Slowly, you begin to stand.

Fog surrounds you on all sides, a bright light shining from behind you. Turning reveals a faint archway, multiple colours streaming through the pale golden light. Familiar colours which seem to stretch out and attach themselves to you.

Sparing a glance down, you nearly jump back in surprise.

There, resting peacefully on the ground, is your sleeping body. You notice your arm stretched out to the side, and following the path it makes reveals Jongho’s body laying directly beside yours. Your fingers are intertwined, a faint red glow emanating from your hands.

At least you have a marker to make it back to.

Backing up slightly, you watch as those colours stretching out from the archway move with you. A moment later, and they seem to pulse with movement.

Your eyes widen in understanding. A minute has already passed.

Turning around to face the vast expanse before you, you attempt to peer through the fog. The faintest outlines of a maroon line can be seen in one direction, and you cling harder to that string in your mind.

Gently, you give it a small tug.

Something roars in the distance, and you feel your blood run cold. Whipping your head from side to side, you fail to see anything close by. Yet, that doesn’t prevent you from putting one foot in front of the other quickly in order to begin following that faint maroon line further into the mist.

The only sounds that reach your ears are that of your breathing, and the constant repetition of your feet scraping along the ground. Frantically, your eyes dart around you in search of any signs of movement, or shapes through the mist. You have a creeping feeling of being watched, and you know to trust your instincts for the moment, especially when in a place like this.

Feeling the second brush against your mind, you quicken your pace. Again, you tug lightly on that maroon string, and this time, a low growl sounds in the area, much closer than before.

You follow it.

“Come on, Baby Bear,” you mutter, eyes desperately scanning the mist for something. Anything. “Where are you?”

With every step you take, you notice that faint maroon line becoming brighter and brighter. The fog seems to be thinning too, and you can begin to make out faint shapes in the distance. One seems to be much large than the three surrounding it, and as you get closer, you begin to see corpses of… things lining the ground.

Limbs are twisted in odd angles, black blood splattered against the pale grey ground. These things appear creature like in shape, some having leather wings like bats, while others are more dog like, but they’re all about the same size. Not to mention they all seem to be that same pale grey colour as their surroundings.

Just as you feel that third brush against your mind, you see them.

A large brown grizzly bear fends off the last three of these creatures. One gets trapped in his maw, while another is torn apart by his claws. The last creature manages to jump on his back, sinking it’s own claws into his skin as he cries out in pain. Only, the bear manages to roll over quickly, crushing the smaller creature beneath its tremendous weight.

He stands back to his feet as he shakes out his fur, starting with his head.

You’d recognize that movement anywhere, and before you can stop yourself, you begin sprinting towards him. Another frantic tug is given to that maroon string and you watch as that bear lifts its head in your direction almost instantly.

Warm, brown eyes meet your gaze, and you swear you see that maroon line leading directly to him light up with a vibrance unlike ever before. In a few bounds, he’s reached you, nuzzling his snout into your neck and stepping in as close to you as he can.

What are you doing here? His voice sounds a little frantically inside of your mind, and you physically breathe a sigh of relief.

I came to get you. You brush your hands over the top of his head tenderly, wrapping your arms around his neck and practically sinking into his soft form.

It’s dangerous here. You shouldn’t be-

Neither should you! You immediately cut him off, pulling away to stare deeply into his eyes.

The fourth brush is felt against your mind.

We need to hurry back, I only have a minute left before they pull us out. You motion behind you with your head.

How do you know which way you’re going? I’ve been lost in here for days. The furrow of his brow is clear, even while in his bear form.

You smile. I’ve got my lights to guide me home.

Instantly, you picture connecting his string to all of his brothers inside of your mind, and the way you feel the land around you begin to tremble lets you know that they’ve all felt it. Only, you have less than a minute to make it back to your bodies before they’re pulling you out.

Subtly, you notice Jongho’s eyes glance over to the low glow of the colours attached to your form. Bending down, he motions for you to craw onto his back. 

Hop on.

Without hesitation, you do.

Jongho immediately takes off into the fog, chasing those colours that drift through the air and connect you to all of them back home.

A warning screech echoes in the distance and you hear Jongho curse lowly.

Stay low to my back, the ones with wings are ruthless. He instructs, picking up his pace the slightest bit.

You do as told, clinging to his fur for dear life as Jongho races through the mist and back to that bright archway that begins to shine faintly in the distance. Luckily, you don’t see anything chasing you, but you know better than that. The faint flapping of wings, and pounding of feet upon the ground behind you lets you know that more of those creatures are giving chase, and they don’t seem to be relenting anytime soon.

With each passing second, you can see that archway getting closer and closer. Faintly, the outlines of your bodies can be seen laying on the ground, not having moved a single inch since you left them there about four and a half minutes ago. In fact, you’re positive that fifth brush will be coming at any moment now. You just hope you can both make it in time.

The second you feel that fifth brush against your mind, you go tumbling from Jongho’s back mere feet away from your body.

A frantic call of your name is heard above the hissing surrounding you, feeling pain erupt on your arms as claws dig into your flesh.

Blinking up at the creature, you see a sight that tears a shriek from your lips. It has no face, except for a jagged slit of a mouth where its chin should be. Rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth greet you as its lips pull back in a what appears to be a gleeful grin. Leathery wings protrude from its arms, it’s claws pinning you in place on the ground as your blood spills from your wounds.

The faintest hissing of the word ‘human’ on the air draws your attention. A horrid hissing that is filled with excitement the more it echoes around you by varying creatures, all of whom begin to step out of the fog and surround the two of you endlessly.

A blink, and the creature is swiped from above you, being torn in half by Jongho’s claws.

You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing through your veins as you roll over quickly to avoid another dog-like creature pouncing on top of you. Luckily, you roll right into your own side, eyes wide as you see Jongho a mere foot from you.

A frantic call of his name escapes your lips as you reach out to him, knowing you only have mere seconds before you’re pulled out of this veil and back to reality. So, you fight with everything that you are to hold on for as long as you can. Until you can feel his hand in your own.

It’s as if the word around you moves in slow motion. You begin to feel an unfamiliar tug at your mind, pulling you backwards through the archway by your head. It’s as if a hook has been placed right behind your forehead, jerking you backwards unforgivingly as Jongho shifts back into his human form. Desperately, he reaches out to you and his own body with each of his hands, fingers just brushing against your own. 

At the same time, the creatures surrounding you all lunge. Snarls sound all around you as they attempt to reach you before you can escape, hissing about not letting such a delicacy leave.

The last thing you see is a wall of creatures swarming you as you pass through the veil. You experience a brief feeling of falling, your hand tightening around something warm as you sink into the abyss surrounding you.

You close your eyes.

A gasp escapes you as your whole body jerks upwards in Yunho’s arms. Blinking a few times, you clear your vision, noticing how you seem to have slid off of the side of the bed and onto the floor. Still, Jongho’s hand in held in your own.

Your breathing is frantic as you heave air into your burning lungs, head turning every which way to gather your bearings. Yeosang rests beside you, clinging onto your opposite hand as he presses it to his forehead. The chest your back is pressed against belongs to Yunho, and you notice the others surrounding you with looks of complete worry on their features.

Your whole body aches, but you force yourself back onto the bed, much to their discontent.

“Dearest,” Yeosang reaches out to you, brushing one of his thumbs near your chin.

You shrug him off, glancing a hint of red now lining his skin.

Breaking your hold on his hand, you wipe at you nose. Pulling away reveals your own blood, and you begin to wonder just how long your nose has been bleeding for.

No wonder they all look so worried.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong kneels in beside Yeosang, placing a gentle hand onto your thigh. Though, with how badly you feel him shaking against you, you cannot tell if it’s more for him or for you at this point.

You nod, turning to face Jongho on the bed.

“I had him.” Your voice is no more than a whisper, tears leaking out of your eyes as you look down to see him still in that calm state of sleep. “He was right there.”

You practically collapse on top of him, sobs wracking your entire body as you pull your intertwined hands up to your chest. It’s faint, but you swear you feel his fingers tighten against your own.

The room is quiet around you, but it seems somewhat brighter than before. Someone must have opened the curtains to let the natural light of day in around you. It’s warm, and you swear you can feel a ray of sunlight shining directly onto your cheek as you keep your eyes closed for the moment. Warmth of which is mirrored in the way a hand tenderly caresses the back of your head.

“My Darling,” a rough voice, strained from lack of use over the past day and a half, reaches your ears. “Why are you crying?”

Your whole body freezes, breath catching in your throat as your heart skips a beat inside of your chest. Tentatively, you shift your head, peering up at him through tears which blur your vision.

A blink, and they clear, falling upon your cheeks like rain against a windowpane.

Your lower lip quivers as you watch him sit up with you in his arms, his warm, brown eyes searching your face carefully. His hand that had been gently cradling the back of your head shifts to cup the side of your face tenderly, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

A moment of stillness travels throughout the room.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve fully collapsed into his arms, a fresh round of sobs tearing from your throat. Your whole body shakes as apologies fall endlessly from your lips, hands desperately clinging onto him as if he may disappear again at any given moment.

Softly, he shushes you, cooing gentle reassurances in your ear as he rocks you back and forth while in his arms.

“I’m okay.” He keeps his voice low, holding you to him as desperately as you cling onto him. “You’re not at fault.” Your breath hitches. “You’re not at fault.”

You sob harder.

“We’ll be in the foyer.” Reina’s soft voice reaches your ears, and you assume she’s guiding both herself and Sudaem out of the room to give you all some privacy.

More apologies fall from your lips a you bury your face into the side of Jongho’s neck. With your void down for the moment due to the requirements of the spell, they can all tell that you’re no longer just apologizing to the youngest anymore, but to all of them. Yourself included.

“It’s alright, Darling.” Jongho strokes a hand tenderly down your spine as his brothers all come to sit around the edges of his bed. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s good to have you back.” Yunho nods once, quite firmly, at his younger brother. His voice is strained, and it’s not just from seeing you in such a fragile state yet again.

Jongho smiles faintly. “It’s good to be back.”

Desperately, your hands cling to the front of his shirt.

“I should have listened to you,” you’re babbling at this point, but you don’t care. “I didn’t think-“ a sharp, stuttering inhale, “you almost died because of me.”

“Hey, hey,” Jongho grabs you gently by your cheeks, pulling you away from him so you can meet your gaze. “Stop that right now. I know how worried you were about your sister. Do you not think I’ve experienced that same worry when you are threatened?” He rests his forehead against your own, staring deeply into you eyes. “It is not your fault.”

“But-“

“No ‘but’s!” He places a finger against your lips, soon beginning to wipe away the dried blood with the edge of his blanket. “I wanted to help you, to protect you, and I would gladly do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

You fall silent, fingers curling the slightest bit tighter against his shirt.

“I thought…” you squeeze your eyes shut.

A brief look is shared with his brothers around him, and his heart squeezes painfully as they divulge with him their memories of the final moments before, and shortly after, he succumbed to the spell.

Jongho’s grip tightens around your body, his voice low, “My Darling, you know I could never blame you for this.”

Your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“You are not at fault.” He breathes. “I sincerely apologize that I ever made you believe that you were.”

You shake your head, sniffling all the while.

“But I did, Darling.” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “I hurt you when you were in such a fragile state, and now you won’t stop blaming yourself for something that was completely out of your control. If anyone is to blame, it’s that fucking bitch.”

Low growls of agreement sound from around the bed.

Slowly, you begin to calm down, yet all you can do is nod your head.

“What-“ Jongho’s breath catches in his throat, “what happened while I was out?”

The whole time his brothers share with him their memories of the past thirty-three hours or so, Jongho sits on his bed completely still. You swear that he’s stopped breathing all together, his chest barely rising and falling as you continue to cling onto him for dear life.

The second you feel something wet land on your shoulder, you pull away to stare into his eyes.

Tears stream endlessly down his face, a look full of nothing but painful sorrow resting on his features.

“You-“ his voice trembles, and he can barely get the words out. “You fell.”

Again, you attempt to shake your head, “no-“

“You fell because of me.” Utter devastation suffocates his very soul, guilt beginning to rise and crush his heart from the inside out.

“It was a misunderstanding.” Your hands now rest on his shoulders as you sit in his lap, your legs resting on either side of him.

“My Darling, I am so sorry-“

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Your voice is firm as you cut him off.

“Neither do you.” He responds without a second of hesitation.

You fall silent for a moment, blinking shamefully as you avert your gaze. “Yes, I do.”

Finally, you turn to face the other seven males still in the room with you. Luckily, Jongho settles you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you to his chest for support.

Glancing upwards, you look around at the males before you.

“I apologize for what I said earlier.” Your voice trembles the slightest bit with the weight of your emotions. “I didn’t mean those words to come out the way they had, but they did. I shouldn’t have kept everything bottled up for so long inside. I should have told you, and I should have considered your own feelings towards the matter.”

“Baby,” San’s worried voice reaches your ears, his eyebrows drooping as he watches you avert your gaze to your hands.

“I should have been more honest with you all about how I was feeling.” Your thumbs begin to nervously rub over one another. “I never meant to hurt any of you.”

The males all share a brief look.

“We were all in the wrong.” Hongjoong says, words barely above a whisper. “We should have known you were barely holding it together all this time.”

“How can you know if I don’t tell you?” You exhale a low breath, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Dearest,” Yeosang goes to reach out for you before stopping himself. Almost shamefully, he retracts his hand. “I apologize for what I said to you. It wasn’t the time, nor place to dump that on you, nor was it right of me to do so.”

“But you were right.” You spare a glance upwards to see Yeosang staring down at his own hands. “By avoiding reminders of her, I had inadvertently been avoiding all of you. That’s not fair to any of you, or what each of those spaces mean to us, and I apologize that it took me this long to realize that.”

“We weren’t lying to you when we said that we would get through this together,” Wooyoung cracks a small, hesitant smile in your direction.

Softly, you nod, wiping at your eyes all the while. “I was so focused on my own trauma, I neglected your own.”

“We all deal with things in different ways.” Mingi clears his throat, bringing a hand up to dry his tears.

“That’s no excuse for what I did.” You reply. “For what I said.”

“You were right, though.” Seonghwa swallows thickly. “If that was you, we would have done whatever it takes to get you back. Consequences be damned.”

Jongho squeezes your waist slightly, assuring you that his brother speaks nothing but the truth.

“Aren’t we all a great pair,” you chuckle teasingly. “Letting our emotions always control us.”

A snort is heard from Wooyoung. “Maybe not always.”

Even his brothers shoot him playfully incredulous looks.

“Only when it comes to each other,” Hongjoong sighs, somewhat wistfully as he finally stands back to his feet.

“If you start having doubts again, or anything of the sort, you tell us right away, Baby.” San meets your gaze, a somewhat firm look shining behind his eyes. “Okay?”

“The same goes for me with all of you,” you take the time to look around at all of them once more, seeing them smile softly at you in response.

“You do not have to suffer alone, Petal,” Yunho smiles assuringly in your direction. “Your worries do not burden us at all.”

You nod, shifting off of the bed with the help of Mingi and Seonghwa.

“I guess some habits are just that hard to break.” You sigh.

“Baby steps, My Love,” Hongjoong moves over to the door, a gentle smile tugging at his features as he looks back at you. “Baby steps.”

Wiping at your eyes a final time to ensure there’s no more evidence of your tears, you begin to exit Jongho’s room. You don’t even need to look their way to know that they all follow closely behind you.

Breaching the foyer, you see both Sudaem and Reina conversing softly on one of the front couches. Both spell books rest closed on the table before them. However, as soon as Sudaem senses you, she’s hopping up from the couch, he snakes shifting almost bashfully over her head.

Her gaze darts to Jongho just off to your left. “I’m glad to see you well again, King Jongho.”

Reina stands, a small quirk to her brow.

Without wasting another moment, you walk directly over to the two women and wrap them in your arms.

“Thank you.” Your voice is low, nothing but raw gratitude seeping from your tone. “For everything.”

Softly, you feel Sudaem rubbing your back while Reina pats you gently.

“I’m glad I could help.” Sudaem whispers, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “If you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“I appreciate that,” you smile, nodding as you step away to give them both some space. “Know that the sentiment is shared.”

“Anyways, I best be going now,” Sudaem shuffles slightly on her feet, reaching over to grab her spell book from the coffee table that rests beside her. “I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Wait, how will I be able to contact you for lessons?” Reina’s eyes widen ever so slightly, and you recognize that almost desperate look shining within anywhere.

The corner of your lips quirk upwards knowingly.

“If you ever need me, send word with Stella.” Sudaem smiles, and you watch as Reina nearly swoons.

“Okay,” she nods, quite enthusiastically.

“It was lovely meeting you!” Sudaem directs the comment towards your best friend as she waves goodbye, her snakes hissing happily.

“You, too!” Reina waves back as Sudaem walks over to the guys for the moment.

“Uh, would it be okay if one of you-“

“Already on it,” Yunho smiles lightly at the gorgon, teleporting her back to her own domain in an instant. In a blink, he’s returns, straightening out the front of his shirt slightly.

“So,” you wiggle your brow teasingly at Reina, “Sudaem, huh?”

“Shut up.” Reina grumbles, pushing you playfully.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” A knowing smirk tugs at your lips as you watch your best friend avert her gaze somewhat bashfully.

“So,” Reina clears her throat, composing herself a bit better for the moment, “introductions now, or later?”

You motion to the guys with your hand, letting them decide for themselves if they’d like to introduce each other to your best friend. Your void has long since been back up, so you take the time to brush against their minds now.

Immediately, they all brush back.

“I think introductions are a great idea,” Hongjoong says, a small quirk to his lips. “After all, you helped save our brother.”

She nods, a kind look resting on her features as they all incline their heads to her in thanks.

“Hang on a second,” you lift a hand once more in a halting motion as you look at Reina. “How did you know that Yeo was what he was when he dropped me off?”

“I’ve seen portraits,” she shrugs, “but I didn’t know their names. My gran was adamant about not,” she clears her throat, nose scrunching as she prepares to imitate her grandmother, “incurring the wrath of the Eight Kings by invoking their names.”

You can’t help it, an amused snort escapes you.

“So, I recognized him, but I didn’t know which one he was until you told me his name.” She explains, to which you nod your head. “I am very interested to learn which ones are which based off of what you told me.”

Just then, a loud mewl is heard from the hallway leading to your room. A loud gasp is escaping Reina’s lips as a black cat struts into the room, tail flicking back and forth eagerly in the air.

“Is that Kuroo?” Her lips part, an excited smile pulling at her features.

Softly, Kuroo weaves his way through all of your legs, brushing languidly against both yours and Mingi’s the longest. A moment later, and he’s trotting over to Reina who bends down to extend her hand out to him. Cautiously, he sniffs at her fingers before beginning to rub his face all over her.

Giggling, she begins to scratch at his head, Kuroo beginning to purr loudly all the while.

“Well, aren’t you just the handsomest man of the hour.” She coos, chuckling as Kuroo chirps back happily in response.

“Oh, no, don’t say that.” Wooyoung sighs, almost exasperatedly. “It’ll go straight to his already overinflated head.”

“But he’s so cute!” She coos, picking him up to hold him in her arms. “And fluffy!”

A content mewl greets all of you in response.

“Kuroo is Sammy two-point-oh.” You say, watching as understanding passes over Reina’s features. “Just less of a troublemaker.”

“Ah,” she nods, rocking him gently in her arms, “I see.”

Softly, she begins cooing at him once more, and you can just tell that he’s just loving every second of it.

“Okay, so,” you quirk a brow, “introductions?”

“Oh, wait,” Reina’s lip quirks mischievously in the corner, “can I guess?”

You snort out a laugh, gaze darting to the males beside you who shrug nonchalantly. “Be my guest.”

“Hang on, there’s actually one of you who I’ve been dying to know whom is who since she told me.” She admits, eyes scanning over all of them. “I know him,” she motions to Yeosang with her chin seeing as she holds onto Kuroo for the moment, “but which one of you is Yunho, the painter?”

Said male’s brows raise slightly in amusement, waving his hand to indicate that he is who she’s looking for.

“I would give you a thumbs up, but my hands are full,” she chuckles. “Either way, nice.” An approving nod is sent his way. “So far, you’re my favourite.”

The looks all several of his brothers send him in mild disbelief has a laugh falling from your lips.

“It was the portrait, wasn’t it?” You turn to look at Reina, a grin tugging at your features.

“Literally, why isn’t it hanging right there?” She shifts Kuroo over to her one arm, motioning to the central wall behind the front desk. “Guy paints what is presumably the most beautiful portrait of a gorgeous lady you’re all in love with, and you can’t even display it in your front foyer?”

Reina tuts, shaking her head teasingly.

“Don’t give them any ideas,” you whisper lowly.

Mingi tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment. “She does have a point.”

“See!” Reina replies, somewhat exasperatedly. “The cat dad understands!”

“Cat dad?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“Are you not Mingi? The one who got this little rascal for her?” Reina pats Kuroo lightly on the butt, receiving a small whine from the cat in response.

“I am.” He confirms. “How did you-“

“He rubbed against you the longest out of all of you,” she blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. In the next moment, she pulls the cat away to brush her nose against his own, a teasing lilt to her voice, “besides his mommy.”

A hand comes up to muffle your laughter as you hear Kuroo complaining loudly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed. He jumps down from Reina’s hold quite quickly after that, strutting away back down the hallway and towards you room.

You walk over to Reina, flinging an arm around her shoulders as you lean on her teasingly for support.

“Okay, so,” you grin, “You technically know four of them.”

“That I do,” she hums, gaze briefly darting over to meet Jongho’s. She sends him a polite smile, noticing how he nods briefly back. “Let’s see, we’ve got the cook, the dancer, the tailor, and the one who should have told you he liked playing with knives sooner.”

At her words, Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches.

“Ah-ha!” She points at him, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “So, you’re the one she got with the steak knife.”

A snort of laughter is heard from Wooyoung at this, and even Yeosang, San, and Mingi all have a hard time suppressing their chuckles.

“You’re lucky, then,” Reina continues, a devious look shining behind her eyes as he quirks a brow. Despite your attempts to stop her, she holds you off from covering her mouth. “Normally, she just threatens to stab you instead.”

“Reina,” your voice is a bit exasperated as you whine out her name.

Despite the fact that they all quirk their brows in some way, Wooyoung looks the most visibly eager to learn more.

“What else does she threaten to do to people?” He leans the slightest bit forward, excitement gleaming in his gaze. Though, he knows that he’s not the only one dying to know.

“Well, not so much actually threaten, but she has very vivid rants about certain people.” Reina hums knowingly. “My ex is one of them.”

“Yeah, well,” you turn to look at her. “He deserves to get his dick ripped off and shoved down his throat for what he did to you.”

“Case in point,” Reina chuckles knowingly, motioning to you beside her with her hand. “Though, I’d say that was one of your more tamer ones. Wouldn’t you?”

You shrug lightly, a slight hum escaping you.

“Anyways,” she turns her attention back to the three remaining males she’s yet to identify. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re the dancer,” she points at San, “he’s handsy,” she points to Wooyoung, “and you’re the ‘pretty boy’.”

Seonghwa’s eyes look as if they’re ready to fall out of his head for the second time that day as both Wooyoung and you burst out laughing.

“Oh, you were doing so well, too.” You pat her on the back.

Lowly, Seonghwa begins to grumble about being referred to as handsy once more, crossing his arms over his chest. A large pout tugs at his features all the while as his brothers all chuckle around him.

“It was one time!” He frowns.

“Oh, it was more than once,” the corner of your lips quirk upwards in a knowing grin. At the way his pout deepens, you’re quick to add, “I never said I didn’t like it.”

“Ew!” Reina slaps your arm teasingly. “There are children present!”

“Children?” Yeosang quirks an amused brow.

“Yeah,” Reina snorts. “Me!”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes. “Who was it that called me to drive her to the ER because she got her-“

A hand is slapped over your mouth quite suddenly, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. Not even a moment later, her face is contorting in disgust as she pulls her hand away, wiping her palm on your sleeve, seeing as you licked her.

“You are gross.” She sticks her tongue out at you.

“You love it.” You playfully bat your eyelashes at her in response.

“Yeah, yeah,” teasingly, she gives you a light shove while rolling her eyes.

None of the males across from you can prevent the way loving smiles pull at their features as they watch you interact with you best friend. It seems as if the more time you spend with her, the more you relax. A fact of which they could not be happier about. Besides, you seem to be having fun.

“Anyways, you’re half right about Woo being handsy number two, though,” you motion to the aforementioned male with your chin.

“Hey!” He whines, a dramatic pout tugging at his features.

“You’re still in second place, Sunshine.” You grin fondly, mirth dancing behind your gaze as you meet his own.

“Oh, damn,” Reina says. “I really screwed up at the end there.”

“You were off by one each, if you rotated them to the left,” you pat her back assuringly.

“My bad,” she smiles somewhat nervously.

“At least you didn’t say Mingi was the cook,” San grins, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Hey!” Said male whines.

“To be fair, I thought he was handsy at first,” Reina shrugs.

Yunho immediately bursts out laughing, slapping Mingi on his back as the younger male begins to turn bright red.

“He definitely could be,” Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head somewhat fondly.

“If you think I’m bad with my fantasies…” Wooyoung trails off, immediately taking off down the hallway as the elder male begins to chase after him.

Reina laughs, looping her arm around your waist. “I can tell it’s never a dull moment with these guys.”

“You have no idea.” You smile lovingly at them, seeing the way Kuroo now chases after Wooyoung, too, with Mingi in tow.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” she turns her head to you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Wanna give me a tour of the house?”

#yandere ateez #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #yandere kpop #yandere au #yandere jongho #yandere san #yandere seonghwa #yandere wooyoung #yandere yunho #yandere yeosang #yandere mingi #yandere hongjoong #hongjoong scenario #san scenario #mingi scenario #jongho scenario #yunho scenario #seonghwa scenario #yeosang scenarios #wooyoung scenario #kpop scenario #kpop au #demon au

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Ghouls x GN reader

(who is suffering from horrid cramps)

(Warning: reader in a lot of pain, talks of nausea and throwing up. But nothing in detail.)

Our beautiful gentle giant, Mountain, is well prepared for this. He basically lives in the abbeys greenhouse, he is like an encyclopaedia of plant knowledge. What balms and rubs and oils he can make to help you out, you best believe he has an abundance of them stocked up. I like to think if this is a regular occurrence then Mountain has a little cupboard that keeps these remedies safe and sound for you. For whenever you need them. He takes this seriously, and he will put them on you himself if you’ll let him. Mountain absolutely tricks you into letting him rub one of the mixtures on your stomach, (you insist you can do it yourself and he knows this, but he doesn’t let up easily so he prepared to just give in) and so there the two of you lay, on your bed, as Mountain slowly massages an oil into your skin to help soothe the cramps. As much as he hates seeing you in pain, he really loves doting on you. He will make you his self made herbal teas to help as well, and he will 100% spend every minute with you making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. You’re not to move from the bed without him, not that the cramps would let you anyways…

Aether is pretty much the same in the sense he spends most of his time with you researching ways to help you feel as comfortable as possible. He keeps a heat pack on standby, he has a cupboard stocked with pain killers and anti nausea medicine and he even has Mountain make you some kind of rub to help relax the muscles where your cramps are. All in all, Aether stays calm. He knows that if he started freaking out about you being in pain then that would just make you feel worse. Of course he absolutely hates every second of it, and there’s a pit of worry and anxiety that sits at the bottom of his stomach and eats away at him throughout the duration of your cramps, but he knows you’ll be okay soon and he knows that he has to stay calm and collected for you. What kind of help would he be if he was outwardly worried the whole time? Aether likes knowing that he can be a rock for you, to keep you grounded and steady when you need it. He takes great pride in knowing you allow yourself to rely on him during this time of pain and vulnerability, and he would rather send himself back down to hell than ever betray that.

The only time Dew has ever cursed the unholy Lord below, was when he experienced this with you for the first time. You were stuck in bed, such intense nausea you needed to keep a large bucket next to you incase you couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open because of how exhausted you were from the pain of the cramps. He honestly thought for a moment that you were dying and he panicked and ran to Copia for help. It took him a while to come around, and even now after being with him for ages, and going through this multiple times whilst with him, he still panics. He kind of hovers around the room, he’s unusually quiet and it’s like he’s too scared to touch you incase he somehow makes the pain worse. He gets angry for you. Angry that you, his lovely human, has to deal with this so often. He wants to take your pain, he wants to take it all away and keep it to himself and let you stay comfortable and happy. Dew will keep you as comfortable as possible, bringing you food and water so you don’t have to get up, he does not step foot out of your shared room the whole time until it’s over. His eyes stayed glued to you the whole time ready to do whatever you need him to do.

Swiss doesn’t panic when your cramps start, for he already knew it was going to happen. He can literally smell it on you, on the way your body changes and adjusts. He picks up on your body language and the way that changes during the few days beforehand. You like to tease him a little and call it his “ghoul powers”, and while yes being a ghoul has a lot to do with it, Swiss has just become so accustomed to you and your body that he just knows. So by the time the cramps have started he is mentally prepared. For the most part he lets you sleep and rest as much as possible, he understands how exhausting the constant pain is. Only waking you up to give you some more pain killers once the previous ones have worn off, and to keep you hydrated. He still makes sure you’re eating, but he never puts anything too heavy on your plate. Just incase you’re not able to keep it down, Swiss will give you lighter meals and snacks so you at least have something. During the night he really just loves to sleep next you, keeping a protective tail wrapped securely around your waist, for his own comfort to still have some kind of contact with you, and to remind you that he is right there next to you should you need him. (He doesn’t wanna cuddle up to you and risk accidentally rolling on top of you during the night) (it’s happened before) (he almost didn’t get back in bed after).

During the beginning, Rain was really no help at all. Of course you knew the things that worked for you, but Rain was just a nervous mess. The image of you in so much pain you couldn’t even move got stuck inside his head for days after, it really upset him to see you going through this. After a little while he realised he needed to snap out of it and he came to you asking you to tell him everything you needed and wanted him to do for the next time so he is better prepared and can actually be of some help to you. It took him a few months to really fall into the routine, but eventually it became like a second nature to him. He knew what positions to help you lay in to decrease the cramp intensity, he knew what painkillers worked best for you and he kept you as comfy as he possibly could. He really enjoyed knowing that you could confidently count on him when you needed him. He likes to spoil you a little bit too… he steals Mountains fluffy blanket for you, he raids the abbey kitchens and risks his tail just to bring you back some of the special snacks that are kept aside specially for the papas, he even learns how to give massages for when you’re feeling up for it. Anything he can do to help you relax and stay settled, consider it done.

Phantom freaked you out the first time he experienced this with you. After being summoned not that long ago, obviously he still had a lot to learn about humans and how they function, so you can only imagine the real fear that would have struck him when he saw how much pain you were in. It took you a minute to explain it to him, between horrid cramps and almost unbearable nausea, you did the best you could… but clearly Phantom went into freak out mode and almost lost his head trying to pull things together to look after you. You had about 7 glasses of ice water sitting at your bedside table, he panic cleaned the toilet incase you needed to empty your stomach into it (because send him back to hell if you even think for one whole second that the toilet isn’t going to be spotless before you even get near it) he ransacked the cupboard for your extra blankets and made a makeshift nest for you to lay in and throughout the entire time you weren’t well Phantom did not sleep a wink. He sat on the floor in front of you and watched you like a hawk while you slept just incase he needed to spring into action. He settled down a lot after the cramps were gone and you were back to your normal self again, but expect it to be like that every single time. He just loves you and seeing you in pain is hard for him.

#hello world Mary is back #and happy new year my loves #the band ghost #ghostband #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghoul x reader #mountain x reader #aether ghoul #aether ghoul x reader #aether x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghoul x reader #dewdrop x reader #sodo ghoul #sodo ghoul x reader #sodo x reader #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss x reader #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x reader #rain x reader #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom x reader #mary’s headcannons

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It Was Supposed To Be Us - Chapter 5

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: We have reached the end of our story! Thank you to everybody that's interacted with this series. Every like, comment, and reblog mean so much to me. I hope you guys enjoy this finale. I'm not great at writing action scenes so forgive me if it's a little mid. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of DV, PTSD, Anxiety, Violence, Blood, Smut, P in V, Fingering, Loss of Virginity, Creampie, I think that's it

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Neteyam takes care of Ralu.

Sleep seems to elude Neteyam for the night. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s haunted by visions of your beaten face and body. It’s devastating. His stomach twists with nausea and guilt. He tosses and turns trying to get comfortable, but it’s useless. Before long, the sun starts to rise. Neteyam knows his father will be up soon. He’s going to need his support if he was going to pull this off without actually killing Ralu. And, as tempting as that idea sounds in his head, he knows it’s not the smart thing to do. Neteyam sits outside of his family’s home sharpening his knife and waiting for his dad. And almost on cue, Jake appears from inside.

“Neteyam, you’re up early” he says a bit taken aback.

“Couldn’t really sleep” he says continuing his work on his weapon.

Jake lets out a big exhale sitting next to Neteyam on the ground, “Talk to me, boy. Tell me what’s going on.” Jake still wasn’t clear on the details of what all was going on. When he took Neteyam away yesterday, he didn’t speak much on why he did what he did. Jake knows his son well enough to know that he wouldn’t snap like that on somebody for no good reason, but he couldn’t help if he didn’t know the entire situation.

Neteyam drops his knife and uses two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose while he comes to grips with everything. “He is not a good man.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that yesterday, but what you haven’t said is what makes you feel that way.”

“He…he hurt her, dad…” his words trail off as he finds himself needing to literally bite his tongue to keep the tears at bay. “You should have seen what he did to her…”, one tear slips.

Jake nods solemnly understanding the situation now. “Is she okay? Is she safe right now?”

“Grandmother and Kiri are keeping her in the healing tent.” His jaw clenches in frustration, “I should have been there. A man is supposed to protect his own and I failed.”

“Do not blame yourself. You couldn’t have known this would happen. And son…she isn’t yours.” Jake doesn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it probably comes across.

Neteyam looks his father in the eye, “She is in every way that matters.”

In this moment, Jake doesn’t see just his son, he sees a man doing his best to defend what is precious to him.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?”

…

Neteyam propped himself against a tree deep in the woods while he waited to carry out his plan. Even just with the waiting, he can feel how his blood is beginning to boil. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous. But he wasn’t nervous about his plan failing. He was more worried about controlling his own wrath. As far as Neteyam was concerned, Ralu deserved whatever fate befell him, but his father discouraged him from being the one to deliver that fate. “Let Eywa handle that part.”

Neteyam hears footsteps coming his direction. It was time. He remains in his spot against the tree and watches the figures in the distance grow closer. Jake was leading Ralu to Neteyam. Jake had convinced him that he wanted to apologize for his son and get his side of the story. Jake didn’t truly care for whatever excuse or lie Ralu tried to come up with for what happened to you. Before he agreed to help with this, he had already gone to speak with Mo’at about your condition. He didn’t actually see you out of respect for your privacy and dignity, but Mo’at gave him a very clear picture of your condition. And she confirmed that however you were injured, it definitely was not from “falling in the woods” as you had described to her. He had heard all he needed to.

Once Jake and Ralu reached the clearing, Ralu locked eyes with Neteyam and stopped dead in his tracks. He looks between the two Sully men and suddenly realizes that he’s trapped. He weighs his options on if he should stay or leave. But his own ego and anger cloud his better judgement as he decides to stay and stand his ground.

“Okay, I see what this is” his arrogance is obvious in his tone.

Jake and Neteyam exchange a glance and Jake gives his son a small nod before he walks into the woods a bit. He’s close enough to come running in case anything goes wrong, but his main purpose for standing there was in case Ralu attempted to run.

“Let me guess, this is about your little girlfriend, isn’t it?” Neteyam takes one step towards him, “Don’t you dare even talk about her. Be grateful I even left you a tongue to speak with.”

Ralu smirks at him, a smug display of his amusement. “You may be the son of toruk makto, but you need to learn to keep your hands off other people’s things. That bitch had it coming.” Neteyam had heard enough and lunges for Ralu knocking him over. Ralu kicks Neteyam off and attempts to take a swing at him, but he dodges. Neteyam takes a swipe at Ralu with his knife and manages to make a shallow cut on his outstretched arm. He pulls his arm back to look at the cut.

“That the best you can do?” he taunts.

Neteyam is unphased, “Says the only one bleeding.”

Ralu launches himself at Neteyam and manages to get him into a hold that Neteyam can’t quite maneuver out of. Instead, he flips around the knife still in his hand and cuts across Ralu’s abdomen. It’s not deep enough to cause any serious damage, but it is enough to make him release his hold. This makes him retreat from Neteyam in pain and give him an opening. Neteyam snakes around staying close to the ground and grabs Ralu from behind and wrestles him down to the ground. His legs lock and hold Ralu’s while his arms have him in a headlock and his knife is alarmingly close to his throat.

Ralu struggles against Neteyam’s hold, but with no success. The threat of Neteyam’s knife pressing into his skin makes him finally go still.

“You will never come near her again, do you understand?” Neteyam hisses in his hear. “She is not yours and she will never be yours. And if I ever, ever see you even so much as look at her the wrong way, I will personally see to it that you suffer an excruciating end.”

Ralu scoffs. He doesn’t think Neteyam actually has it in him to follow through on his threat. Neteyam is seeing red as he flips the knife in his hand and jams it through Ralu’s shoulder. He screams out in pain and writhes in Neteyam’s hold. He pulls it out and presses the very tip of his knife into the skin on Ralu’s throat coaxing out a single dribble of blood. “Answer me!” Neteyam was fully prepared to do away with this man for good and deal with whatever fallout came after.

“Neteyam!” Jake calls out to him. When he turns to look at his father, he has a stern look on his face urging him to do the smart thing.

Ralu knows he can’t actually beat Neteyam and he’s ready to end this whole ordeal finding you not to be worth all the trouble. He begrudgingly agrees with a nod of his head.

Once Neteyam is satisfied, he sets him free and watches as he gathers himself to leave. “And do not go to the Tsahik for your injuries. She will not help you.” Neteyam calls out after him.

He falls to the ground catching his breath when Jake comes over to him. He had quickly looked over Ralu as he left and, from what he could see, Neteyam had done what he needed to. He checks in on his son, “You did good, son.”

Neteyam offers his father a small smile and a nod, “Thank you, sir.”

…

“You don’t think anything has happened to him, do you?”

“I already told you, I don’t even know what’s going on. But this is my brother we’re talking about. I’m sure he’s fine. Now, hold still while I check your eye” Kiri tells you while looking over your face. You had been borderline pestering her all day about Neteyam and whatever he was planning to do. Your anxiety had ramped up as the hours dragged on. He had asked you to wait for him inside the tent and you did, but you couldn’t help the worry that still plagued your mind. How long were you meant to wait? Kiri did her best to reassure you, but she didn’t know exactly what was happening either. She had minimal information as she had only partially overheard the conversation between her father and Mo’at. She didn’t know what her brother had planned to do about Ralu, but she trusted that if their dad was with him, he wouldn’t go off the deep end.

She continues inspecting your wounds from the other day and is pleased to see the swelling around your eye going down slowly, but surely. And your body no longer felt like the fire of a hundred suns. It was now more of a dull ache. You still weren’t in ideal condition, but it was leaps and bounds from how you first walked in.

“Thank you, Kiri. For letting me stay here for the night and taking care of me.” You were truly, deeply thankful that she gave you a safe place to recover. Even going so far as to physically stand in the way of danger to make sure you stayed safe.

She grabs ahold of your hands and squeezes them tight. “Mated or not, you are family. We take care of each other.”

You can feel yourself getting choked up so you try to change the subject, “So, how do I look?”

She follows your lead, “Much better than yesterday. I’d say it’ll take another day for the swelling to go completely down, but it’ll still be bruised for roughly another week.” She lets your hair fall back in front of your face. You preferred to keep your eye covered while it heals.

Immediately after, Jake and Neteyam come into the healing tent and Jake bends down to give you a once over. “How are you feeling, baby girl?” “Oh, I’m much better today. Thank you. Kiri has been taking really good care of me. I owe her a lot.”

“Don’t be silly. You never owe me.” She says standing up.

“Is she okay enough to go for a walk?” Neteyam asks her.

“Yes, just take it easy okay? Your wounds physically look better, but don’t push yourself if it still hurts.” Kiri answers from across the tent.

Neteyam holds his hand out to you and you take it. He leads you out of the tent and your eyes subconsciously dart around the area around you. Neteyam can feel your unease and notices the curl of your tail. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You swallow hard following his lead. You let him lead you through the forest and he helps lift you over large branches in your path that you would normally be able to hop over with ease.

“Neteyam where are you taking me?”

“Oh, like you can’t guess?”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. Of course, he’s taking you to your spot.

It seemed like it had been forever since the two of you came here together like this. Out in the open in broad daylight. No worries about sneaking out under the cover of night.

Neteyam leads you into the center of the clearing and helps you to sit while he kneels in front of you.

“Any particular reason you lead me all the way out here?” you ask genuinely curious. It’s not that you didn’t love being here or being here with him, but why right now?

“Actually, there is. It’s because I couldn’t think of a better place to say this.” He takes a big breath trying to calm his own nerves.

“Listen, we’ve known each other for most of our lives now and ever since the first day I saw you, I knew. I knew that I wanted to be with you forever. I knew I could never live without you again. When we promised to be together, that was the happiest moment of my life. And with everything that’s happened recently, I couldn’t help but feel like I let you down. As soon as I returned, I should have stood my ground and declared my intentions with you, but I didn’t and it caused you to get hurt. I should have protected you.” “Neteyam, you—” he holds his hand up to stop you. He already knows that you would say it wasn’t his fault and that he couldn’t have known what would happen. And even though the logical part of his brain understands that, it still brings no comfort to his still-aching heart.

“I knew I had to do something to make it right. I promised you I would take care of it and I did.” “What did you do?” you’re almost scared to ask.

“Please do not worry about it. Just know that he will never come near you again. You don’t ever have to worry about him.”

His words ring through your head while you process them. Just like that? It was over? You wouldn’t have to be on high alert anymore or live in fear? You were free? He holds your hands and locks eyes with you.

“But I wanted to officially ask you if you’d do me the honor of letting me court you and being my mate.” He smiles at you, but his eyes are scanning your face looking for any little indication that you may reject him. He, of course, finds none.

“Do you really still need to ask?” your expression is overjoyed and Neteyam takes his first real breath since he started talking.

“You couldn’t have honestly thought that I would reject you, did you?”

“W-well, it’s been such a long time and I just wanted to be sure. A-and…” Neteyam starts to ramble just like he always did any time he was flustered or nervous. It was adorable and you can’t hold back the giggles especially when you notice the slight purple color starting to stain his cheeks.

You hold his face in your hands and his words trail off at your touch. “’Teyam, stop talking. The answer is yes. It was always going to be yes.” He captures your lips in a tender kiss and your heart soars. Everything was finally falling into place.

…

Over the next week while you heal your wounds, you and Neteyam find your footing as a new official couple. He courted you just like he said he would, showering you with the most extravagant gifts. Rare beads, intricately woven accessories, beautiful flowers, your favorite foods, you name it. Neteyam probably would gift you the moon itself if you were to ask for it.

It was still difficult some days, though. Even after your physical wounds healed, your mind still stayed vigilant at all times. It would cause you to jump at sudden sounds or touches.

Poor Neteyam looked so forlorn the day he tried to reach out and hold you and your instincts made you flinch away from him without you meaning to. He insisted that he understood why you reacted the way that you did. It still made you feel awful, though. You didn’t want to still be afraid, especially not of the one person you felt safest with. The one person you never had to be scared with.

It took time. A lot of time. Some nights, you still had nightmares about it all. His voice and touch still so vivid in your mind that you would swear he was there in the room hovering over your sleeping body in the middle of the night. Of course, he wasn’t actually there. Only Neteyam resting next to you and who would hold you a little closer to himself when he felt you stir awake from your midnight hauntings. Soft shushes and whispered words of reassurance would calm you back into a state of sleep.

Ralu truly never did dare to even look your way again. You would catch sight of him among the clan and it would make you pause briefly in your steps, but he never gave you so much as a glance. Neteyam never really told you what happened between the two of them, but you settled on the decision that it was probably for the best that you were left out of the loop. If you had to guess, though, it probably had something to do with the new scar he was sporting on his shoulder. In truth, how he did it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were out of the nightmare. You had your person. He was yours and you were his.

…

It was finally time. The day had come when you and Neteyam would finally be mated before Eywa. Your heart thunders in your chest gazing up at him under the glow of the Tree of Souls. His star-like freckles glowed a little brighter accentuating his features.

The ceremony had come and gone fairly quickly. Your union was acknowledged by the Tsahik in front of your families as they cheered and sang prayers for you both. Prayers of a long, happy partnership and many healthy children. After the ceremony, they sent the two of you off to have some privacy for your first night together. It was Neteyam’s idea to come here specifically. And you were so happy you let him choose. The setting was beautiful and buzzing with an energy that made everything feel even more alive and connected.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You knew what was expected of mates. But you had never been touched in that way by anybody else. Your biggest fear was that it would hurt. You had tried to experiment a couple days ago in preparation for this night. You hesitantly and carefully tried to push one finger inside of yourself, but panicked at the feeling and cut the experiment short. It was frustrating. You loved Neteyam with your whole being and you wanted him to become one with your being. You wanted him to touch you. You couldn’t stand the thought of the last man who had laid hands on your body being Ralu. But could you really go through with this?

“What is wrong, yawne?” Neteyam asks you knowingly.

“Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” you try to brush off his question.

“Your tail is doing that thing again. I know something is on your mind. Talk to me, tíyawn.”

You breathe a big sigh, “I think I’m just nervous. Now that we’re mated, I want us to…you know…do what mated people do. But I am nervous that it is going to hurt because I’ve never had anything inside before.” Your head drops in embarrassment and your eyes cautiously look up at Neteyam who is only smirking at you.

“You are too precious”, he says kissing your forehead. “We do not have to do anything that you are not ready for yet. And, when you are ready, I promise to be as gentle as possible.” “But I want to do it now. I want to become one with you.”

Neteyam thinks for a moment before he speaks again, “Here, let’s try this.” He pulls his queue forward and you follow him. “When we make tsaheylu, we’ll be able to completely feel each other and I will know how best to take care of you.”

You nod your head processing his words. The tendrils at the end of your queues dance wildly in front of you. You both bring them closer together until they meet in the middle and hold one another melding the two of you together.

Both of your pupils blow wide open as your minds take in all the new stimuli from not only your own bodies, but each others’ too. You can feel Neteyam’s breathing and heartbeat as if it were your own. Every single sensation he feels is coursing through your body all the way down to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet and the ends of his braids resting on his shoulders. It’s overwhelmingly euphoric.

You make the first move to reach out and touch Neteyam’s face and press your lips to his. He wraps you in his arms kissing you back deeply. You happily open your mouth for his tongue to explore. You both settle down on your knees and he lays you down on your back. Using one of your hands, you push your top up to reveal your breasts. Neteyam’s hand freely roams about your body massaging your soft skin. His fingers trek down your chest and waist and right past your loincloth to rub messy circles on your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and Neteyam swallows the moan you let out. He breaks the kiss so he can watch your face.

“I’m going to put one inside, okay? Just breathe for me.” You take a big breath and as you release the air, Neteyam pushes one digit into your heat. The feeling is indescribable. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. When he slowly starts to pull out and push back in, it feels like a lightning strike in your body and you love it.

Now, Neteyam can feel himself getting harder by the minute. Feeling your tight, slippery walls squeeze around his finger has his head spinning thinking about how good it would feel around his dick. It’s even more intensified by the bond you two held, feeling your pleasure radiate through his own body.

Once he feels your body relax more around him, he pushes in a second finger. The stretch is a little more intense, but still not anything you couldn’t handle. Your breath is heavy in your chest as you look up at him. “Neteyam…”

“You are doing so well, tíyawn.” He kisses your lips again and takes advantage of the way your body melts into him to push one final finger into you. He can feel through tsaheylu the dull sting that comes from being stretched like this for the first time. He holds his fingers in place just long enough to let the feeling pass for you before he moves again.

“’Teyam…please…I want it.” Your big doe eyes look up at him pleadingly.

Fuck, you were just too precious for Neteyam to ever deny you anything you wanted. Plus, he was just about at his own limits of his patience. He pulls his fingers from your core and the sudden emptiness makes you wince lightly. He helps to pull your loincloth off and you raise your hips to help him. He pulls the knot on his own loincloth loose to let it fall to the ground.

Your eyes widen seeing him for the first time. He’s big. Too big. There’s no way something like that will fit inside of you. Your nerves are starting to get riled up. Even without tsaheylu, Neteyam can feel your anxiety. One of his hands finds your chin to lead your eyes back up to his. He reassuringly rubs his thumb against your skin, “Slowly, okay? Just focus on me.” You re-steady your breathing and nod your head. You close your eyes when you feel his tip prodding at your soaking entrance. Neteyam pushes his hips forward towards yours and his tip presses on past your folds and right into you. You gasp and grit your teeth trying to push past the feeling.

Neteyam slowly inches himself further into you. You wince and whine at the feeling. “Shhh…just a little more. You’re doing such a good job.” It was as if he was pushing your organs to the side to make room for himself inside of you. It was almost suffocating how full you felt. But his soft voice and the caress of his fingers on your face help strengthen your resolve. Suddenly, he stops moving. “You can look now.” Your eyes lower to find your pelvises pressing together and a small bump poking through your abdomen. The sight normally would’ve horrified you had it not been for the immense pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Are you okay?” Neteyam’s patience is thinning by the second, but what little is left of his better sense urges him to go slow for you and make sure your first time is a good one. But damn if the way you were choking his dick didn’t make it difficult.

You nod up at him letting your body accommodate him. “I’m going to move now.” Your eyes cross at the drag of his tip along the spongey part of your walls as he pulls out and pushes back in. A small whine leaves your lips and your fingers hold on to Neteyam’s shoulders to give you something constant to focus on while you adapt to the new feeling.

Before you know it, the pain starts to dissipate and your chest falls dramatically letting out a breath you hadn’t even recognized you were holding onto. Your body relaxes fully and lets Neteyam in. His hips rock into you a little faster testing the waters and more moans fall from your lips. “’Teyam…” Neteyam feels just about ready to snap hearing how his name drips from your tongue in ecstasy.

He thrusts into you with more force and the sounds it pulls out of you triggers a carnal desire in his brain that his eyes are desperate to see as they roll back listening to you. Nevertheless, he pulls them back into place to find your half-lidded gaze on his face and parted lips calling his name. He’s positive he’s never found you more beautiful than this moment right now. But he craves to see your beautiful expression twist into something sinful. He can’t stop himself anymore from starting to pound into you.

“Ah..A-ah! Ah, Neteyam!” your hands feel around and search the ground around you for something to hold on to as you feel the pressure building in your stomach. Neteyam’s hands find yours and he threads his fingers between yours while he pours all his feelings for you into his thrusts. Both of your eyes look down between you to see the small bump in your stomach disappear with every retreat of his hips and re-emerge with every push forward. The sight is enough to drive you both to your release.

“’T-teyam! Gonna…g-gonna..” you can’t even grasp the words as your orgasm comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Do it. Cum with me.” He’s mere seconds from painting your walls completely white.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck and it’s prolonged by Neteyam continuing to fuck you through his own release deep inside you. His thrusts grow slower and gentler as you both come down from your highs. Your vision starts to refocus and your body goes limp. Neteyam slides out of you and your body tries to remember its original shape before he had made space for himself.

“Are you alright, tíyawn?” the lustful haze of Neteyam’s mind is clearing and his expression is slightly concerned while he checks on you. But your sleepy smile reassures him and you nod your head. “I’m more than okay.” Your hands wrap around his neck and pull him down to kiss you again.

He rolls you both onto your sides and you break the kiss to rest your head against his chest. “Can we do that every day?” a small chuckle rumbles in his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“We can do it as much as you want, yawne.”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #awow smut

[fel0ny-01]

Anyway, continuing from my month hiatus I am here to give you: 141’s phobias!

Soap - Fear of Needles

John MacTavish, the almighty sergeant from the highly regarded task force 141. The youngest candidate to ever pass SAS selection, the man who disarms bombs for a living, who’s been stabbed more times than he can count on both of his hands, who is unafraid to stand in the face of death and spit on his boot, is afraid of needles. Now, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid of needles, it’s a common fear, yes? A lot of people have it. But not to the extent that Soap has it.

Trips to medical are a nightmare, if someone even mentions the possibility of blood work or iv’s, his heart rate doubles and he’s thrashing and trying to get out of there. Not even Ghost can calm him down.

He usually has to be sedated (which is the worst part because you need to make sure 1. That he doesn’t notice, and 2. the needle doesn’t snap with the force that he’s using to try and get away) to even think about getting a needle in any part of his body. And even then he’s fighting to get away. He will literally do anything to run, even when they have the hardest grip on his arm, he’d rather it rip off or dislocate than get a needle in his arm.

Due to this fear, he only goes to medical if he’s forced, threatened with discharge or unconscious. Stitches are also a nightmare as-well, he would rather bleed out than get a needle pushed through his skin with thread.

Price - Fear of being alone

Price’s fear is usually something he tries to conceal from the others. The other 3 share their experiences openly, (well almost openly, it had to take a bit of opening up from Ghost) but eventually they were all able to make adjustments for each other.

And Price insisted that he didn’t have anything that would interfere with their line of work, but this one interferes the most. Each and every mission they take, Price is full of anxiety and is always tense because at any moment could he lose each and every one of his boys.

Only when they get back to base safe does he ever actually relax, all the anxiety seeps from his body because his boys are okay, Kate is okay.

He eliminates every single one of the things that may endanger the ones he loves, even if it means breaking a few rules to get there.

On the worst days, he can’t sleep on his own so he usually sleeps on the floor beside Gaz, until the sergeant forces him into bed so that he can properly rest. He has a little clue of what’s going on, but he doesn’t want to pry about it until Price feels okay to open up about his fear.

Ghost - Fear of mirrors

Something about looking in a mirror or any reflection sends chills down Ghost’s spine. It sends his body into fight or flight whilst he desperately tries to figure out a way to tear his eyes away from the one thing that he’s afraid of.

A lot of people are scared of mirrors due to the fact that there could be something spiritual, or that there is another world behind a mirror, and that concept is terrifying.

But ghost is afraid of what’s in the mirror, what looks back at him every time he comes in contact with one, himself.

He didn’t get similar symptoms to Johnny, its more of a deer in headlights, his palms sweating and his heart racing, his reflection unmoving just like he was; not daring to make eye contact with the demon in the mirror, but now he’s decided to wear his mask, it’s much easier to pass by a mirror or even look into it, because he doesn’t see Simon Riley, he sees Ghost.

He’s working on it though, he promises.

Gaz - Fear of heights

Now Kyle didn’t have any fears prior to the helicopter incident. He just got on with things and made sure to dive headfirst into whatever he possibly could.

But after dangling out of a helicopter above a moving road with lots of cars with armed soldiers In them, it can do stuff to a guy.

Anytime he looks down from cliffs or even standing on top of a table to change one of the lightbulbs, nausea overcomes him and he starts to become dizzy, his head reeling as his entire body telling him he needs to throw up. More often than not, he passes out.

It wasn’t nice for anyone having to catch an unconscious sergeant from the top of a table after he threw his guts up onto the floor.

Usually he can switch off and just get on with zip lining but now he can’t do it without feeling like his insides are turning inside out, but nobody blames him.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #john price #phobias of the 141 #cod mw2

[allylikethecat]

omg more prompts!! would love to see matty holding hands with george while he’s stressed out about something and then maybe later laying his head in george’s lap🥺

HELLO THERE ANON,

You sent me this WONDERFUL intimacy prompt literally three months ago, BUT I finally did it, I finally filled it! Better late than never? Right? I want to apologize though for taking so long to get to it, and thank you so much for sending it in. I hope that you're still around to see the response! I ended up combining the two- I hope that was okay! Please let me know what you think! Additionally, if anyone else wants to send in any intimacy prompts, the list can be found here. I can't guarantee that it won't take me three months to finish the next one, but I promise that I *will* eventually. I really enjoy working on prompt fills and even if it takes me forever to actually sit down and write them, just know that I am in fact always thinking about them!

Thank you so much for requesting this prompt, your patience since I am the worst and it took me months, for reading, and for your continued support! I look forward to hearing what you think!

❤️Ally

WARNINGS: Reference to past drug abuse

Holding hands during a stressful situation & Resting your head on your partner's lap

Matty hated flying. He hated the drive to the airport. He hated that they were always, inevitably, caught in stop and go traffic that made his already nervous belly churn, nausea burning the back of his throat. He hated leaving his bag with the airline agent, the worry that it would get lost, that it would get stolen, that it wouldn’t make it to his final destination even as he obsessively tracked its air tagged location on his phone. He hated going through security and border control. He hated taking off his jacket, and shoving his backpack into the plastic bin. He hated the scrutiny of the security agents as they took in his tattoos and the scars on his arms. He was always, without fail, pulled for random, additional screening. He always tried to smile good naturedly, anxiety bubbling in his gut, even if he knew he wasn’t truly chosen at random, drug dogs sniffing his ankles as they swabbed his hands for explosives. At least he got to carry his own passport now, it was no longer in Jamie’s clutches as if he was going to run off to score the second he was left unattended. (He never had even considered fleeing an airport to score, however, he had considered fleeing an airport to run back to the flat he shared with George and hide under the covers of their bed.)

He hated making his way through the crowded terminal, people rushing around him, knocking into him, suffocating him as he tried to remember how to breathe. The straps of his backpack digging into his shoulder. He knew there would be a red mark on the skin when he sat it down, there always was. He loved their fans, he loved them more than anything, but he hated that he could feel their eyes on him as he moved through the airport, taking pictures of him with his eyes downcast, the brim of his baseball hat pulled low as if it would be able to fully hide his mop of curls. Only for the pictures to end up on Twitter moments later, which led to more eyes seeking his location. The braver ones would approach him and ask for a picture with him rather than just of him from a distance. He would force a smile, his arm stiffly around their shoulders as he tried to focus on his breathing, his palms sweating as every fiber of his being screamed danger and run. He hated that they always seemed to be assigned the gate furthest away from the main artery of the terminal. He hated that his anxiety meant he needed to lay eyes on the gate, that he needed to verify that it was real before he could wait with the rest of their group in the lounge. 

He hated that once he had dropped off his bag, and made it through security, and checked on his gate, that it was time to wait. Matty was not a patient person, he was even less patient when he was stressed, wanting things the way he wanted them right this instant. Demanding, George had called him one time with an amused smile and love shining in his eyes.

At this particular instant, he was both stressed and demanding, gripping George’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as he dragged him through the crowded corridor towards their gate. He was more stressed than even his usual airport levels of airport anxiety. He hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning, worrying about the ten hour flight from LA to London they would be embarking on the next morning, popping piece after piece of nicotine gum as they inched towards departures in their rental van. They had played the last show of the tour the night before, and Matty was burnt out and ready to go home. Once at the airport, he had been, as usual, pulled for additional screening, the man that patted him down rough and inconsiderate. He had been stopped by a duo of fans less than five minutes later, forcing a smile as he tried to swallow down anxious tears threatening to spill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushing in his ears as a man speaking loudly on the phone bumped into him, splashing him with iced coffee.

“You’re okay,” George soothed, giving Matty’s sweaty hand a comforting squeeze of his own, as the man turned away from them, glaring, as if they were the ones not watching where they were going. He swiped his thumb reassuringly against the back of Matty’s hand. 

“The gate is just up ahead,” George said, pointing with his free hand to B37. “We still have an hour ‘til boarding.” 

Matty nodded, wishing that seeing the gate with his own eyes would have loosened some of the tension in his chest, the way it usually did. George gave his hand another squeeze and Matty swallowed hard. George had calluses on his fingers and across his palm from years of playing the drums professionally, Matty loved that they slotted perfectly against his own guitarists calluses. Matty loved that George’s hands were so much bigger than his own, dwarfing his hand, his fingers wrapping fully around his own, engulfing them, protecting them from the outside world. He loved that even when he was shaking, even when his palms were disgustingly damp and sweaty, George never let go. He might have been the one clinging to George, but really, George was the one holding onto him. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the feel, on the weight of George’s hand, intertwined with his own. He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, but he no longer felt like he was going to drift away, like he was going to be pulled out to sea by the current and lost forever.

George pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Matty’s head. “Let's head up to the lounge, I would kill for a cup of coffee.” 

Matty let himself be led through the crowd, their hands connected as if George was the tugboat guiding Matty’s ship to shore. George showed their passes to the hostess and they were granted access, the rest of their group already sprawled out on the couches, bags at their feet, coffee in hand. Matty swallowed a yawn, he was exhausted, and knew that coffee would help, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the acidic liquid at the moment.

Matty sat down on an open two seater. Matty hated that he had to let go of George’s hand as he made his way over to the coffee bar, pleased that they were reunited a moment later, a steaming paper cup in George’s hand. He dropped into the seat next to him and without thinking Matty found himself leaning over, not caring that technically they were in public, to rest his head in George’s lap. 

“I just want to go home,” Matty said softly as George tugged Matty’s hat off to run his fingers through the messy squashed curls. 

“Soon love,” said George, “we’ll be home soon.”

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #fanfiction #keep it kind #matty fic #gatty #prompt fill #prompts #intimacy prompt #intimacy prompt fill #questions #answers #once again i am SO SORRY that this took me so long to finish #i hope that it was at least a little bit worth the wait? #and i do promise i will get to the rest of them in my inbox as well #i made a spreadsheet to keep track of them so that none will get lost #and i promise that i really will fill all of them! #eventually!! #thank you so much for reading #i look forward to hearing your thoughts! #physical intimacy prompt #physical intimacy prompt fill

[followdelight]

Pete and Sub Drop (a short essay)

Or: how VegasPete could have had a much better time transitioning to a consensual relationship, if Pete wasn’t in unmitigated and intense sub drop for days after they had sex for the first time.

Okay basically I just need to talk about how KPTS perfectly depicted sub drop in Ep 13/14 without even trying?  I’m convinced the writers had zero idea that that was what they were doing but it is EXQUISITE and I need to talk about it.  It’s so clear they were intending to portray Pete being conflicted and pining after Vegas (and they succeeded!), but on a much much deeper level, supported textually, almost 100% of Pete’s behavior in the last 2 episodes could be attributed specifically to sub drop, and it’s gloriously executed.

In eps 13/14, Pete exhibits easily like, 75% of symptoms often attributed to sub drop.  Including: Fatigue, crying, sadness or melancholy, anxiety, agitation, depression, confusion, guilt, shame, aches & pains, stomach aches/nausea, general malaise.

Now, sub drop can happen to the best of us and for a myriad of reasons but there are always ways to mitigate the damage.

The 2 major causes of sub drop are:

Lack of (adequate) prep

Lack of (adequate) aftercare

In re: prep, they fully failed to prepare either physically or emotionally before the scene.  Pete was underfed/dehydrated/in pain (so not in a good physical state, generally), and in a heightened state of emotion (for literal days, all of the emotions) before/during the scene.  They had no discussion of limits or safety beforehand and essentially no foundation of trust.

Likewise, after the scene, there was essentially no aftercare: Vegas didn’t provide Pete with either skin to skin contact/physical comfort, or a blanket for warmth (they lay side by side but Pete is not held).  They did not discuss the scene, nor did Vegas provide Pete with any words of affirmation or comfort to assuage any feelings of shame that can linger after scenes (no, Vegas, telling Pete “do you know how sexy you are” does not count).  Pete was not provided sustenance – food/water/sugar – to help regulate the endorphin crash (Vegas tried, this one was not necessarily on him, although you can already see symptoms of drop in Pete – fatigue, malaise/hints of sadness – before Vegas leaves to go make food).

And then we see and incredible and exhaustive progression of textbook sub drop symptoms:

Confusion/Guilt/Shame: Pete asking himself why he let it happen, he didn’t like it

Depression/Sadness & Crying: Pete’s breakdown saying he feels useless

Agitation: Pete hitting himself + his explosive anger at Vegas (continuation also of shame, not feeling human)

Fatigue/aches & pains: We see this as Pete stiffly and shakily makes his way back home.  He is physically exhausted – bc of his journey?  Absolutely.  But I think that being in drop accounts for some of that as well.

Stomach aches/nausea + Crying/Depression: Pete trying and failing to eat his noodles, heightened emotions/depression can often cause a physical reaction, both his lack of desire to eat (yes it’s also an emotional response to the exact food he’s trying to eat being tied to his memories of Vegas, but I’m calling it)

General malaise: Pete’s lack of interest in the party Tankhun throws him, his entire demeanor when he goes out to get a smoke and looks despondent leaning against the pole.

When Vegas arrives, he starts the cycle again from the top, cycling through more or less the same series of emotions, although starting with anger this time, then going through shame/confusion/sadness/crying etc.  But by the time they get to the minor family’s attempted coup, I think most of Pete’s physiological symptoms of sub drop have faded/passed, and his emotional responses and actions seem to come from a place of a little more clarity.  

Of course there’s still a lot of confusion, bc the situation is still fucked up, but his anger in the garage, and then his confession by the pool, are clearly deliberate choices Pete makes, as opposed to his earlier behaviors after leaving Vegas.  The Pete who could only sit in a tub and lie, or cry in front of a bowl of noodles, or stand alone and try to smile at Yok’s, is gone; replaced by a new Pete awakened by Vegas – a man who isn’t afraid to demand what he wants because he knows it’s within reach.

So the tl;dr is this: I think the writing of Pete’s character in episodes 13/14 is truly incredible.  I have never in my life seen sub drop depicted so thoroughly.  And as someone who has had severe sub drop that lasted days due to lack of prep/aftercare, it looked something very much like Pete in this episode and I just….  Hats off to the writers, I salute you.

#pete saengtham #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #kinnporsche pete #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche series #has this been discussed #bc if so i apologize #but seriously #so smart and i'm convinced completely accidental

[marshmallowprotection]

Saeray's tips for calming down anxiety/feeling low when it's not even active in my mind?

By that I mean like, I'm not even thinking about anything in particular but my body's gone into nausea mode for something I can't even make sense of yet

But then again I'm going back to uni soon which does make me feel anxious, so that's probably it -_-

My body must just be like no, we're gonna make ourselves anxious way before we actually set foot in the place. Essays? Not anywhere near deadlines but already uneasy. Socialisation? I don't even have any friends because I just freeze with anxiety in every situation. Or just like, back away....ugh

I understand that I'm an anxious person but the way my body just reacts, I can't stop feeling like my throat's welling up and feeling like I'm shaking and just so uncomfortable

But Saeran brings such comfort to me

Do you think he'd have any tips on how to calm down nervous, even sickly feelings inside before I like...fully transform into a mess XDD

It's just honestly so awful

I get so hypervigilent and can't relax because my literal nervous system thinks I'm under threat when absolutely nothing is happening

Who is Saeran Choi but a ball of nerves? There are so many things that he stresses out about. There has never been a time in his life when he didn't feel like there was a crushing feeling on his back. It's gotten better in recent months because the workload he's had on his shoulders isn't what it used to be. He isn't working himself into the ground to be able to stay alive. He's able to take things at his own pace and there's no worry about it. He doesn't have to stress himself out. There's still a strong feeling of bumblebees in his stomach but it's not going to consume him.

Living and coping with anxiety can be the hardest thing someone learns how to do. Not everybody is going to be able to cope the same way. What winds up working for him may not be able to help you at all. It's just the unfortunate reality of things. That doesn't mean he won't offer to show you what he does to feel better at the moment. But it does mean he's open and sincere with you when it comes to what may or may not work.

If things don't wind up working, don't beat yourself up. It's going to be okay in the long run. You just have to give yourself some credit where credit is due because it takes a lot of hard work to be able to sort out your feelings. You were there for him when he felt afraid, lost, and concerned. He's going to be there for you as long as you need him to stay.

In every sense of the word, sometimes taking a break can make it better. If you want to feel like the world is working with you instead of against you, you need to be able to see things from a different perspective.

A great way to do this is to watch how you speak about yourself. If you find that it's easy to insult yourself or belittle yourself, you need to change that. You need to learn how to speak about yourself in a positive way. If you can help it, the most important thing to do is to Simply say that you're doing your best. you're not a failure.

You wouldn't believe how much perspective in tone can make a difference in somebody's life.

It all changed once he stopped calling himself an airhead or a bug. Sure, it wasn't perfect. It's not always going to be perfect. even if you put your best foot forward and you try to see the brighter side of things, that doesn't mean that it's instantaneously going to make it all better. This isn't something where things get better overnight.

You have to be willing to wait and work with it. There is no instant fix.

As far as confronting anxiety when it comes to being in a situation that you've never been in before, the only thing that you can do is face it head-on. If you're afraid of something that you've never done before because it feels overwhelming or frightening, the only way to make that go away is to try it. Sometimes in life, you have to rip off the Band-Aid no matter what. It's a price of being alive and well it's annoying in many ways, you have to go with the flow.

There's no way to sugarcoat that. There are ways to get people to come with you if you feel like you need a buddy to make it less frightening, but sometimes you have to face things yourself. If you've been living with anxiety all your life, you might not even notice that it's happening when it happens. It might feel like you're not on edge, but you might actually be on edge. It's hard to turn it off when it's been on all the time. A perpetual state of adrenaline pouring through your veins can make you feel exhausted. 

If you want advice from Saeran, it’s simple. You need to take care of yourself. You need to be gentle with yourself when you're afraid and you need to be stern with yourself when you're avoiding things that need to be done. You can't let fear consume you because then you won't even be living. It's good to be cautious but don't let it hold you back. If he lived in fear forever, he never would have known what it was like to love you. Don't you want to take that chance? 

#mod kait #ask #anon #saeran choi #choi saeran

[allfather-we-stan]

A little life update "summer 22 with no solid poo"

for anyone who cares lol

as some of you may have seen from my other social medias and here, my health has gone to pretty downhill and I want to share my story and explain bc idk

And for not to scare anyone, no its im not deadly ill. Im prob gonna be just fine.

gross warning i talk about poop

So umm this all started at the end of may- start of june when i started having diarreah. no biggie, i get anxiety diarreah like once a week so i didnt think much of it at the time. Only took me like few more weeks for straight diarreah to realize that something may be wrong lol. So i joked about it and let it be. I call this summer "Summer 22 with no solid poo" and wanted to wait till august to go to doctor. Then i got covid. So i had to wait that out before going to the hospital.

And finally the day I got to go to the doctor and everything was fine, i was supposed to get blood work tested and maybe poop in a container and the doctor thought that it might be celiac-disease bc that runs in my family. But i got fever straight as i got home. I didn't feel so good. The fever continued for a couple of days and then we decided its time to go to ER.

We went there, got bloodwork done etc. Waited there like 6 hours and finallly at 9pm the doctor had time to see me and turns out my inflammatory values were super high and that theyd like me to stay at the hospital for a while. So i stayed at the hospital for 7 days.

In those 7 days they took so much bloodwork from me it was insane! (and fun fact, turns out my veins are shit and no one can find a good spot to draw blood or put an IV tube in). For a couple of days, no answers. They had no idea whats wrong with me. My fever rise and they gave me antibiotics and other meds. Went to the ultrasound and nothing. And then, they had to give me a observation aka "put a little camera up my ass".

But bc i live in a small city theres like one doctor who does that and his schedule was full. So I had long long days waiting for my appointment. And they got me on friday.

But before we get to the camera up my ass part. Hell was loose. They had to "clean" my bowels. And they told me, and I QOUTE "It's either 1: drink two cups of this cocktail that tastes like orange juice or 2: drink 3 litres of water". Obv i took the orange juice! It cant be that bad! WRONG! JESUS CHRIST I WAS WRONG.

As soon as i drank the bad tasting orange drink, i felt like throwing up. Then the pain came. Oh god the pain. It was like level 10 menstrual cramp kind of pain. I was literally crying and screaming bc it hurt so bad. Only thing that helped at the moment was to stay still but i couldnt do that bc i had to shit out the cocktail like every 5 minutes. Many times i thought to just shit my pants on the bed and not let that be my problem. I was in so much pain I was in panic mode. And the worst thing was, no one warned me. They didn't even mention that it might hurt with some people. I don't remember all bc panic lol but i remember this one bitch ass nurse going "Duh its gonna hurt it has big chemicals in it! Even gas can hurt inside bowels". I would have punched her if I wasnt shitting at the time. Then the nurses took their sweet time to get me painkillers and nausea meds. But I couldnt take those bc i felt like throwing up. And then I remember a doctor came. He was nice and explained to me that it hurts bc the orange juice made my bowels like spasm to clean it. I was like "lol thanks for warning me beforehand". Some time goes, they give me that yummy tranquilizer trough IV and I'm high asf. It still hurt but atleast i was high. Then came the cup number 2! I tried to drink it, immeadetly i threw it up like no way that stayed down. And again, panic bc idk what happens next. Do i need to do this all again? Is my bowel clean? Am i gonna be okay? And then i passed out and slept trough the night.

And at this point, on a serious point. WHY THE FUCK IS TELLING PATIENCE THAT THIS THING X IS GONNA HURT SO FUCKING TABOO??? Like i get it, you dont want to scare people but a little heads up would be better than nothing! I just wish someone had told me.

Okay, morning comes, its friday, camera about to go up my ass. they give me nice tranquilizer again, YUMMY. Im high again. they roll me to the operation room, and the nice nurses and a doctor explains whats gonna happen. ( I knew this was gonna hurt beforehand bc they gave me the tranquilizer and figures). At this point they tell me that going up my ass is the hardest part and hurts but after that its easier. Im like okay i can do this, im high and im a big boy! So there i was, laying on my side, doctor rips hole in my underwear to put the camera up my ass. And there it goes, felt weird. Then this stinging pain comes and i curse. Nice nurse lady notices and presses against my tummy and the pain gets easier. They tell me to take a deep breath everytime the pain eases. I do. I'm breathing so good baby you wouldnt believe ( still fucking high). And that thing happens over and over again for like, maybe 3-4 minutes but felt much longer. Sometimes the pain was larger but the nice nurse always pressed my tummy and i, kind of, farted the pain out? It's weird but you get it. Then i hear the words of heaven "We are there"! THE WORST IS BEHIND. I'm happy! I turn around, look at the screen where i can somehow see ( didnt have my glasses) the inside of my bowel part. And i said "ew" and turned my head back. I dont wanna see that. it was pink. Then the doctor spoke something doctorly that i didnt understand. They spend a minute inside my ass doing... doctor stuff and then they took the camera out. It didnt hurt just felt weird, like taking a weirdly shaped long shit. And then they were like "lol we done! We gonna take these samples to the lab asap!" And I was like "you took samples?". THEY TOOK PIECES OF THE INSIDE OF MY ASS WTF.

okay its done, im still high and after couple of hours, they let me go home. I'm happy. I'm feeling good. Life was good. Untill the next morning.

I felt bad again, I threw up at night and I had a mild fever. We call the ER to ask what we do. They tell me that i havent drank enough liquids. So for the next two days I drank so much water you wont believe but i still felt bad and had a fever. So off to ER again!

We went there, they were like lol again bloodwork. At this point im sure i have no blood left. Then we waited and waited and they take some more blood and wait again. Results come back. My inflammatory values were high again. They again want me to stay at the hospital overnight. Hospital booked full. I wait. And finally its time. They take me to a 2 person room, as a 3rd guy. Like it was so cramped and I didnt even have the emergency button. Everything is overwhelming. It smelled like shit. I cried. it was a horrible experience and i can go all night about how shit it was but ill skip it at this point.

So i spend like two nights at the hospital, and they finally have the results in about the pieces of my ass they took. they dont know what it is. THEY HAVE NO CLUE. But atleast they got me meds that work and i dont have a fever anymore. But its like 5 different meds. They make me nauseous and tired. So its not going that well now but atleast im in a good shape to be at home rn.

Im still waiting for more results and follow-up things at the hospital. I'll update as I get to those. Thanks for reading, feel free to ask any questions and stay healthy lmao.

#so yeah its been like 3 months and i forgot what it feels like to have poop thats not liquid #legomirage rant

[waitingforafriendblog]

My love for food is so deep and my ED broke my relationship with food..

Picture this:

You’re in a straight jacket, laying face-up on a mattress, surrounded by 4 white walls…

Mac and cheese begins to fall from the ceiling.. So much so; that you’re now, buried underneath 2 tons of pasta....

That’s how I’d describe my love for food… Intense? Welcome to the wonderful world of living with an eating disorder..

Let’s dive in, to living life buried underneath food,, And the inevitable death of the relationship shared with food we love, most..

Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), or body dysmorphia, is a mental health condition where a person spends a lot of time worrying about flaws in their appearance. These flaws are often unnoticeable to others. People of any age can have BDD.

When I was 8 years old, my body dysmorphia began to develop and started to haunt me… I was only in the second grade……

My jealousy took over when my best friend Alexa Burridge,, and I went swimming in her pool one summer afternoon…. One piece swim wear was the only bathing suit I had ever wore as a kid… But so many other girls were already wearing bikinis… Including Alexa…

As soon as we finished changing into our suits,, and I saw Alexa’s perfect body,,,, I ran to her bedroom and stood in front of the mirror and cried…. She so much skinnier than me… Her body is perfection.. It’s official. I’m the ugly, fat friend……

(We were literally the exact same size. Meaning, you could also, count my rib cage from 100 ft away)

Anorexia nervosa,, often simply called anorexia,,, is an eating disorder characterized by an abnormally low body weight, an intense fear of gaining weight and a distorted perception of weight. People with anorexia place a high value on controlling their weight and shape, using extreme efforts that tend to significantly interfere with their lives.

At 12 years old we had attended a Holiday/Christmas party… The catering that night was provided by The Olive Garden… (bet)

As the buffet began,, my anxiety to serve myself in front of 50+ people became so overwhelming I started to cry softly, my vision became blurry, dark, insulting, and cruel thoughts took over while I was surrounded by a lot of food, and a lot of people.

It seemed like I was in that buffet line for 10 minutes when in reality it only took me less than two minutes to fix a plate…

Sitting at just one of the many tables spread throughout the house… I approached a group of women, at least 9 of them..

“did you see Elena in there?? She got practically nothing..”

“Yeah I looked at her plate and it’s obvious she doesn’t eat..”

“I bet she’s hungry all of the time..”

“Elena needs help because there is definitely something wrong with that kind of behavior..”

“Why doesn’t she eat..”

“She’s way too skinny. She’s way too skinny. She’s way too skinny…”

Standing in the shadows I interrupted the topic of conversation…. Only to stand in front of the group of women, silently, for 10 seconds,,, with the most bitchy-disgusted look on my face….

Everyone else saw,, what I thought was invisible. Fuck…

Bulimia is an eating disorder in which a person has regular episodes of eating a very large amount of food (bingeing) during which the person feels a loss of control over their eating. The person then uses different ways, such as vomiting or laxatives (purging), to prevent weight gain.

When I was 16 years old,, I spent a week of my summer shadowing my Mentor at his workplace, that meant I had to eat in front of the people I loved most…. I didn’t want to look gross or disgusting or chew too loudly or eat too much or eat too little….. WHAT am I going to do?? Well, at that point my body dysmorphia took over my thoughts, and couldn’t allow me to physically eat,, anything.

I was so nervous if I did eat, I would for sure throw up at the dinner table…. We all know our limits when it comes to nausea……

“Dinner was great I’m going to go brush my teeth!!”

Collapsing in front of the toilet, I vomit the small amount of food I actually ate. And then, I brushed my teeth..

Luckily,, I was starved and my body wasn’t bloated from eating so we hit the pool….

“You never eat… We all know you’re bulimic,, or some shit….” (Ugh. Douche.)

Not thinking anyone noticed, I became so fucking embarrassed and ashamed… That night I cried myself to sleep… How the hell was I supposed survive 4 more nights, when everyone knows I’m a freak?

I’ve lost weight, I’ve gained weight, I’ve loved food, I’ve hated food…

But what’s past, is past…

i love food and I’m making it my responsibility for my daughter to have a healthy relationship with the plate in front of her..

Something no one has ever done, for me..

#journal prompt #journalling #eating disoder trigger warning #food #anorexia #bulmia #Ed binging #sad #embarrassing #insecurity #I hate celery #I hate blue cheese #I hate cauliflower #I hate feta cheese

[heartache-onthebigscreen]

how luke helps you

an: hiii , i havent posted in a hot minute so here’s something ive been working on! i have a whole lot of diff scenarios in mind, and feel free to drop some scenario ideas in the comments! also , this fic doesn’t have a pairing with a specific gender, but i do have one part about periods! that’s all! happy reading

summary: dating luke concept, specifically, how luke helps you in different scenarios

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption. vomiting. smoking (weed). panic/anxiety attack. cursing. mentions of blood. jealousy. period

not my gif

when you’ve drank too much

for starters, you definitely kept drinking even after luke told you to stop

in fact, you drank right out of his cup when you were holding it while he went to the bathroom.

this was almost immediately filled with regret, your head is spinning, heart is pounding, the nausea is unbearable

like, horribly unbearable.

seriously. like you are going to yack right now.

the room you’re standing in is nothing but a blur as you try to squint through the crowd to find your boyfriend.

you then feel a tap on your shoulder, making you jump and spin around to be face to face with luke.

his smile drops when he sees your face

“You alright? You’re pale, sweetheart.”

you’re too drunk to even form words. you shake your head no as you struggle to balance while you’re standing.

luke honestly cant even figure out what you’re doing. you think you’re shaking your head no

what you’re actually doing is stumbling back and forth looking like an idiot

luke grabs the cup from you, his brows furrowing as he clicks his tongue in disappointment

“seriously, YN? i told you not to drink anymore!“

he’s saying these words, but you cant even hear him. you’re squinting and trying to focus on his mouth to decipher what he’s telling you.

“luke!” you finally manage to slur out. “i don’t feel good.”

luke’s angered expression softens, “why? what’s wrong? gonna puke?“

then, you puke right there on the floor.

“fantastic.” is all luke says before he looks around for something, someone, anything to clean up this mess.

thankfully, ashton is right behind him, he decides to clean up your mess while luke gets you out of there.

you make it outside, the fresh air helping your sickness a bit. but you’re so dazed and disoriented that your anxiety is super high, you don’t know what exactly is going on.

“luke! luke, luke!” is all you can manage to say.

“m’right here baby. we’re gonna be home soon, we can shower and lay down. you’re alright.”

that’s right when your legs seem to give out and you start to drop to the ground, luke is quick to catch you though. he lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder as he walks.

then you vomit, again.

“on my fuckin shirt,” luke grumbles.

you then just pass out as he’s carrying you and the rest of the night seems to be little snapshots.

you remember tiny, little random moments.

“YN, you need to take your clothes off before you get in the shower.”

“luke! i’m multitasking. see? im washing myself and the clothes at the same time!

luke had quite literally tucked you into bed.

“okay, baby, you need to take this advil.”

“i don’t want it!”

“babe, please-“

“i hate you!”

“okay, i understand, but you have to take this. this will make your hangover not too bad.”

you eventually did take the advil, after you had a drunk temper tantrum about it.

luke also left a trashcan beside your side of the bed, you had been yacking all night and he didnt know if you’d blow again.

he’d taken off your makeup for you, put your hair in braids after your shower. he even had your skin routine memorized, so he did that for you as well.

once he got into bed with you was when he realized how tired he was, but he stayed awake. all night. just to make sure you were okay.

when you’ve smoked too much

you thought you could deal with one more hit of the blunt being passed around between you, luke, and the rest of the band. you’d felt pretty buzzed and figured it wouldnt hurt.

oh, but it did.

though you guys were outside, the area became stuffy. your heart seemed to be beating out of your chest.

everytime you blinked, you swore it had been hours since your eyes were open.

your thoughts became borderline insane.

and your imagination

like was that tree a person at some point? what if you were a tree? what if your hair was leaves?

and you were so far gone, you didn’t even notice luke speaking to you for the last 5 minutes

“YN,” you finally tune into luke’s voice, you hadn’t even noticed him nudging you

to he honest, you fully forgot that he was even there

“you okay?”

you stare at luke, slowly comprehending what he was asking you

it’s been five minutes again.

“oh! yeah you seem okay,” you nod your head while trying to focus without panicking. you didn’t want him to know because you felt embarassed

you would be fine if your heart wasn’t racing. you could feel the blood pumping through nearly every single vein.

you’re worried your heart is beating too fast, are you gonna die? oh my god you might just die

“no, YN, i asked if you were okay?” luke furrows his brown

“yeah,” you tilt your head “you’re okay.“

“jesus, fuck no more for you.” luke chuckles.

damn straight no more for you.

you sit back in your chair outside. your mind wondering while you try to take deep breaths to calm down.

this isn’t working though.

you reach for your water and begin to sip on it, trying to push the nausea down and hoping the cold liquid will ground you.

again, this doesn’t work

nothing is working

help

“luke!” you finally let out a panicked yell as you blindly reach beside you for his shoulder.

“what? what baby?” luke is suddenly crouching jn front of you, his blue eyes seeming more vibrant than usual.

when did he get there?

“i don’t feel good. i can’t breathe. my lungs won’t work- oh fuck! how do you breathe! luke!”

“someone get her a snack and another water. now.” luke orders to the rest of the boys.

they all sit there in shock, high as the clouds themselves, not sure of what they should be doing.

“did you fucking hear me!? now!” luke snaps again and the boys all rush into the house to retrieve the food and water.

luke’s demeanor throws you off a bit, and honestly, at your state, scares the absolute shit out of you.

“don’t yell. please,” you hyperventilate.

“alright, alright m’sorry,” luke takes your hands, you swear you can feel every singular ridge of his thumb as he rubs your hands.

“smoke too much?” luke asks.

it takes you a moment, but you eventually slowly nod your head in response, “can’t breathe. the air is too like, thick? i feel like im breathing through a blanket i can’t- it’s too hot.”

you blink again and you’re inside, sitting in front of a fan while luke sits beside you, holding a spoon by your face

“c’mon, almost done. then it’s the next snack, you’ll feel better, i promise.”

how long has luke been spoon feeding you apple sauce?

regardless, you finish off the applesauce and luke disappears from your side for what feels like a lifetime. you patiently sip your water as you breathe in the cool air from the fan.

“god, i’m sorry lovey. i didn’t realize you’d had so much. i’m sorry.”

luke has been beating himself up this entire time, which is definitely uncalled for. this isn’t his fault at all.

“no, no,” you argue, “it was my fault, thought i could do one more. sorry for ruining your evening-“

“you didn’t ruin anything. just worried about you, you seem better? yeah? can breathe now?”

“yeah, heart still beating really, really fast though.”

getting high wasn’t terrible, but you hated when you could feel your heart beating so aggressively.

“okay, one more snack and we can lay down.”

you dont even remember finishing the food, the next place you seemed to teleport to was the couch, under a light blanket and cuddled into luke.

“you should take a nap, baby. sleep it off, i know you’re tired.”

that’s all you remember before taking the best nap of your motherfucking life.

when you start your period

you wake up with the familiar feeling of your period starting

and yes, it absolutely had to be in bed.

around 3 AM

with a very tired , stressed luke, sound asleep beside you.

you silently plead to yourself as you slowly slide out of bed , just to double check, hoping there isnt any blood on the sheets.

and to only your luck, there’s quite a bit of blood. everywhere.

comforter, sheets, hopefully not the mattress. because that’d be the last straw.

and it wasnt something you could just wait to do, you had to clean these sheets pronto. meaning, you had to wake up luke.

and you hated doing that.

you tiptoe around the bed and stand over luke. you poke his cheek, hoping you don’t need to do much to get him up.

but the man doesn’t budge.

“goddammit luke!” you grit out a curse and lean down so you’re face to face, your irritation getting the best of you.

“get up fucker!”

luke’s eyes fly open with his entire body jolting as he tries to comprehend what’s going on.

“fucking- what the hell YN?” luke’s voice was whiney and hoarse.

“get up, i have to change the sheets!”

luke mumbles something under his breath as he begins to get up

but then he turns the light on

exposing you and your messy state

a whole crime scene was on your shorts and legs

you hadn’t even noticed until now really, you were focused on the sheets

you really wish you cleaned up first now

“YN!” Luke’s eyes widen in alarm, “are you okay? are you dying? oh my god i need to call 911. what happened-“

“i started my period!” you interrupt luke’s stressed rant, his face just relaxes and he sends you a small smile

“oh…why didn’t you just say so,” luke stands up from the bed and kisses you on the forehead

“get cleaned up and in some comfy clothes. i’ll change the sheets for ya, do you need anything?”

you stand there, shocked, thinking he’d be grossed out by the indescribable amount of blood on you and the bed.

“oh…no- no. thanks…” you mutter before you go clean yourself up.

once you’re done, the bed is already made and luke is walking back into the room with a hot water bottle and your favorite snack and drink.

“know ya said that you didn’t need anything…but i brought things just incase. are you feeling okay? do you need any pain meds?”

again, pure shock.

you werent really used to talking to luke about your period. it’s something you never really brought up because you think he thinks it’s gross

but here he is, glowing right in front of you, looking at you with adoration, not disgust.

“thank you, luke.”

when you’re jealous

“i just dont get why she has to be there!” you reiterate for what seems like the billionth time tonight

you’re also aggressively shoving a pair of heels on , getting ready for an event

“YN! it’s a fucking red carpet for an awards show how the fuck am i supposed to control that!”

luke is, extremely irritated with you today. you’ve been nonstop ranting about one of his exes being at the event you and luke are going to tonight.

“i dont know just- do we have to go?”

“we’re already ready. we have to go.”

“i just-“

“you can stay then, YN!” luke snaps

you guys don’t necessarily argue a lot

but when you do

oh, when you do

brutal.

“well did you even fucking want me there in the first place!”

“why else would i have invited you!”

“you just want me gone so you can be with her tonight!” you spit out. you hadn’t really you know, said exactly why you hated the fact luke’s ex was gonna be at the event

luke’s face contorts.

in a confused way

he has the most “?!?!! what the fuck ?!?!” face you have ever seen

“you can just go fucking be with her!” you add in defeat.

“YN, what the flying fuck are you talking about? why would i- baby why would you think that?”

this leaves you speechless

why did you think that?

maybe it was because you thought she was so much prettier than you

more talent

probably better in bed

and you wonder if you even make luke happy

“i - i don’t know.”

“you know i love you, im the happiest ive ever been.”

“we are exes for a reason, YN.”

“i do not even fuckin’ care about her to be honest.”

“in fact, baby, for you i will fight her. on sight, right in front of everyone.”

this gets you to break, he always used humor in these situations to cool you down

“y’can’t hit a girl luke.”

“i’d hit one for you. c’mere”

you sit walk from your vanity over to luke, sitting on the bed. you sit in his lap and he holds you close.

“i love you so much. you don’t need to be jealous or insecure about anyone or anything. you are my one and only. my everything.”

and you never got jealous again

#luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #5sos #luke hemmings blurb #5 seconds of summer blurb #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings fanfic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #5sos one shots #luke hemmings one shots #5 seconds of summer one shot #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Ten)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, public fingering, slow sex in the form of a flashback, making out, dirty talk, oral (male rec.)

Notes: Here’s chapter 10:) Next chapter is the chapter most of you are really anticipating hahah sorry it isn’t this one! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous---Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being really fucking nervous is actually the understatement of the century. You wish there was a better word to describe how you feel. Afraid, concerned, on edge, hesitant, jittery, jumpy, shy, tense, uneasy…you get the point. Meeting Taehyung’s parents is already a nerve wracking experience but in this situation it is even worse—you are the reason their son went into a major fucking depression for 6 months.

Taehyung has a big smile on his face though…he looks genuinely excited and not the least bit concerned. You on the other hand feel sick to your stomach, you feel like you have to gulp down literal puke every five minutes…or maybe every five seconds. Your hands are pooling with a gross amount of sweat and your stomach keeps twisting and turning.

“And my mom makes little sandwiches for us, like all the time.” Taehyung grins, he squeezes your hand in his as you two approach his parents’ house. “You ready?”

You feel the anxiety build, making you nauseas all over again.

“Sure.” You swallow down your nerves, looking up at Taehyung with worried eyes. His smile begins to fade as he observes you, he exhales a deep breath and lets go of your hand.

“Try to relax.” His hand goes to your hair, his fingers playing with it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it was going to go all wrong.” He says softly. “You have to trust me, remember?”

“Right…” you nod your head slowly. “You wouldn’t bring me to a place that people would hate me, right…” you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“y/n…” Taehyung reaches for your hand again, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “They don’t blame you.” He says under his breath. “I’m a grown ass man, I let myself go. Not you.”

“You can’t really be that naïve, Taehyung?” You breathe out, “At least one person blames me, that knows that I didn’t reach out to you—”

“I said to trust me, didn’t I?” Taehyung snaps, but he keeps his voice low. “I talked to my parents about bringing you over and they want to meet the girl from the photos. They rooted for us the entire time.” He tries to offer you a smile but you keep the frown that pulls down your lips.

“Why would they root for us…they don’t even know me.” You say quietly and Taehyung suddenly pulls you close, hugging you.

“Because they saw how happy we looked together. You saw the photos, right? You have to admit we make a cute couple.” He teases, holding you close.

“C-Couple…are we a couple?” you pull away from him slightly, you look into his dark eyes and give him a look that urges him to answer you.

“You’re asking if I’m like, your boyfriend?” he tilts his head, then he is pulling you back in, hugging you tightly. “I guess we really haven’t had that discussion yet.”

“Taehyung—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?” He speaks lowly, his baritone voice vibrating his chest as your head is pushed up against it. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” he sort of repeats and you feel your heart skip a beat—several in fact.

“You…you want me to be your girlfriend? But you won’t even kiss me?” you mumble into his chest.

Taehyung sighs out, he’s tired. Really tired of this same conversation. But he tries to be understanding of you and holds you even tighter.

“Remember we are taking it slow,” he reminds you. “But I’m yours. And you’re mine. So of course we are a couple. I’m your boyfriend…you’re my girlfriend.” He spells it out for you, “And that’s how we will introduce the other.”

You pull back from Taehyung and look into his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes. You take a moment to let your eyes linger on his. They’re brown. But so much prettier than any other brown you’ve seen, they’re deeper. Like they hold so much mystery. You see the season of Autumn in his eyes. Like summer just ended, like the warmth of the sun still lingers. They’re the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Like you are doing right now.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” You mumble shyly and Taehyung’s hands find your waist.

“You’re cute.” He states, “Too cute for me.” He squeezes your waist and you slowly close your eyes at how good it feels to have his hands on you.

“Don’t do that.” Taehyung warns. “I know that look.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say with your eyes still closed, his hands now lowering themselves to your hips.

“I know what you look like when you want to get fucked y/n.” he starts to massage your hips and you can’t help but let a small, small moan leave your lips.

“Fuck…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath as he watches you get worked up. “Will this relax you?” he asks, his voice low. “If I get you off?”

“W-What do you mean?” your eyes shoot open, “We’re outside your parents’ house.”

“And?” he raises a brow, his hand going to the button of your jeans, he unbuttons it with one hand. “There’s hardly anyone around here.” He slides down the zipper and you begin to frantically shake your head, trying to stop him. But you fail miserably. Apparently shaking your head wasn’t enough.

“Tae…there’s people walking.”

“Barely.” He looks around his surroundings. “You’re going to come all over my fingers, okay?”

Your eyes dart all around you but he’s right, the people are kind of far and not paying attention to you.

“Okay…” you agree breathlessly. Taehyung slips his long fingers into your pants, sliding beneath your panties and going straight for where your needy ass self wants him most. With his free hand, Taehyung pushes you against the gate of his parents’ house and covers you with his body. His fingers find your clit and he starts to rub slowly, trying to get you wetter. This goes on a for a minute or two before you are soaking his fingers in your juices then he is rubbing a bit faster, making your knees buckle.

“Ah, Taehyung…” you moan out quietly. “Stay on my clit, I can come like this.” You let him know softly, your words coming out broken as you try to breathe normally.

“Okay babe.” He circles his fingers around your clit, rubbing over and over until you’re whimpering. Your eyes shoot open though when you remember you’re in public, your eyes scan the area and when you see you are alone you slam them shut and let out a longer moan.

“Be a little quieter.” Taehyung chuckles, “Don’t want my parents to come out wondering what’s going on, now do we?” he teases you, his fingers working on your bundle of nerves faster now, with added pressure making your orgasm announce its arrival.

“I’m going to—I’m going to come.” Your head falls onto his chest, and with his other hand he reaches up for the back of your head and begins massaging your scalp.

“Come for me baby. Want you nice and relaxed.”

You’re so, so close when you notice a couple of women walking past, you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay until they leave but being in this situation somehow pushes you over the edge. You bite down on Taehyung’s shoulder as you try to stay quiet as you come all over his fingers.

“Good, good.” He rubs your back, “Relax, relax.”

You try to calm your unsteady breaths as you recover from your high, his sticky fingers leaving your heat as he pulls them out of your pants. He immediately pushes his fingers past your panting lips and orders you to lick him clean.

“Now.” He says, waiting to feel your tongue clean him up.

Then you are buttoning your jeans back up and smoothing down your clothes and your hair. You look up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Feeling better?” he asks, “By the way, the answer better be yes.” His fingers tilt your head up by the jaw, urging you to look at him more properly.

“Yes.” You say truthfully. “I just need a moment to catch my breath then we can go inside.”

“Of course.”

~

Taehyung’s parent’s house is really, really nice. Well, as far as you can tell from the outside…you two are standing outside the front door waiting to get let in. You feel your nerves come back to haunt you, making you feel nauseas all over again. Before you can get too into your head, the front door is swinging open and a beautiful woman is widening her eyes at you, then she is yelling behind her in Korean and man is rushing to the door. Taehyung’s parents.

“Ummmm…” You start gathering your courage to speak to them. “Hello. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you.” You say in your broken Korean. Taehyung whips his head in your direction and looks pleasantly shocked. A wide smile makes its way on his face as he watches you trying to communicate with his parents.

“She even speaks Korean!” Taehyung’s mother claps her hands excitedly, but you literally have no idea what she said. You only know a few things, like asking where the bathroom is, random animals and colors and saying hello and goodbye. You awkwardly nod your head though and Taehyung begins explaining to them that you in fact, do not know Korean.

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Mrs. Kim brings her hand to her mouth as she tries to hide her growing smile. “We speak a little English…but we understand more than we speak…” she admits shyly and you can’t help but nod with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand but she walks closer and pulls you in for a hug instead. “Thank you.” Mrs. Kim mumbles in your shoulder. “Just…thank you. Thank you for coming here…”

“Mom…” Taehyung drags out in a whine.

You feel a pang in your chest once you realize what his mother means…she’s not mad at you? But rather grateful that you finally came? This makes the guilt you previously felt worsen.

“Come in, come in!” Mr. Kim chimes, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“y/n can help me?” His mom pulls away from you, her hands still on your arms. “Right?” She asks with a sweet smile. You nod your head and follow her inside. Taehyung grins as he watches you two walk away towards the kitchen, his dad smiles knowingly towards him and pats him on the back.

“We’re making bulgogi.” She says happily, “Have you had before?” she takes the marinated meat and starts placing pieces of meat inside the pan.

“Yes, but probably not as good at yours.” You smile. Mrs. Kim nods her head like she agrees with you then hands you the tongs to place the meat in the pan yourself.

“I am really happy…” Mrs. Kim watches you cook the meat, “And very grateful. Taehyung missed you so much…it was hard seeing him so sad.”

You take a deep breath…you probably should have guessed this conversation was coming.

“But he had the courage to go find you!” She claps her hands, “We raised him nicely, didn’t we?”

“I’m sorry…” you gulp, “I—”

“No, no. Taehyung explained everything. You had the courage to come here in the end, didn’t you? Your parents must have raised you nicely as well.” She says, her hand gesturing you to flip the meat.

“I guess so…” you turn the meat over in the pan. “Taehyung is hard to say no to.”

“He is…how do you say? Charming?” She gathers the side dishes and starts placing them on the table.

“He is.” You feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “He really is.”

Suddenly, you feel her hand on your arm. You turn your head to face Mrs. Kim and she’s looking at you with pleading eyes.

“……….” She says slowly, but you have no idea what she said. You scrunch your brows and look at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ll learn Korean, won’t you? When you do, you will remember what I said.” She then smiles for you, letting go of your arm.

“I’ll try my best.” You say honestly. “Thank you for having me here by the way.”

“Of course, we watched the two of you through photos for 8 months…you feel like family.”

~

“She’s very pretty.” Mr. Kim tells Taehyung, “But I’m worried….no….it’s fine. This will all be fine.”

“She’s beautiful.” Taehyung smiles, “And don’t be worried…everything is going to turn out the way it’s meant to.”

“The way it’s meant to, huh?” His dad grins at him, pulling him in for a side hug. “I know you will make sure of that.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Taehyung admits between soft breaths, “She is the one for me, I know it.”

“I remember being that sure about your mom.” Mr. Kim begins to reminisce, “I still feel that way.”

“I know.” Taehyung finally hugs his father back, both of them letting go. “You will love her too, you will get to know her and realize I have every right to be in love.”

“Oh son…we already know you are in love. We saw it even through those photos.” Mr. Kim begins walking to the kitchen, “And she’s a woman in love if I’ve ever seen it.” He chuckles, “You two will be okay.”

“You think so?” Taehyung follows his dad towards the kitchen where you and his mom are.

They walk through and see the two of you setting up the table, you both look happy and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

“Smells good.” Taehyung sniffs the air around him dramatically, “Did she help mom?” Taehyung winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

“She cooked all the meat! Next time I will get her to make the marinate.”

“I would love to learn.”

“She would love to learn! You hear that?” Taehyung comes up to you and hugs you tightly. “I will learn with you.” He whispers in your ear and places a quick kiss to your cheek. You immediately feel yourself heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed that he would show affection in front of his parents. But they don’t seem to mind, they instead smile at one another before taking a seat at the table.

“So, we want to know all about your time on the island! Happy memories.” Mrs. Kim requests sweetly. “The photos weren’t enough for storytelling.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung stuffs his face with meat, “I was so mean to her at first.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, he didn’t even want to talk to me!” you whine.

“We said happy memories!” Mr. Kim chuckles, patting his mouth with a napkin. “What was your first kiss like?”

“Oh yes! It was probably sweet and pure. I can just see it!” Mrs. Kim chirps making you blush hella hard. Your first kiss was anything but pure.

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

“It was very sweet. Very pure.” Taehyung comments nonchalantly, sticking another piece of meat in his mouth.

“Yes, very.” You repeat with a giggle. “The island holds some very precious memories for me.” You begin, “Taehyung really became someone special, someone precious. He felt like the first real friend I had in a long, long time.”

“What are you friends like at home?” Mr. Kim asks and you feel yourself grow a little smaller, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, you can admit.

“I don’t really have many…most of my friends were from my old job but that place was…toxic. I’m glad it’s behind me.” You say honestly. “I work a new job now and everyone seems really nice, I look forward to making new friends.”

“We hear you have an older sister! That must be nice!” Mrs. Kim reaches for a side dish, piles some on her plate. “And your parents must be so happy to have you home.”

“Ah, Ellie. She’s great.” You take a sip of your water, “She really takes care of me. And my parents were a little sad I finally moved back out and back to the city. But they’re also happy I am moving forward with my life.”

“How do they feel about you coming to Korea?”

“My mom isn’t the most supportive…but dad and Ellie are.”

“Why isn’t your mom—”

“Anyway,” Taehyung cuts off his mother, “y/n is excited about her new job and making new friends.

“Well, she can always make new friends here.” Taehyung’s mother gives both of you a knowing look. “The boys will surely like her.”

“Well, yeah…” Taehyung gets out awkwardly. “But she’s only here for a few weeks.”

“But eventually she will—”

“Mom.” Taehyung warns. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine! Anyway I prepared your photos from the island, should we show you our favorites?” She says excitedly. “There is one in particular that really just…oh my, let me just show you!” She stands from her chair and walks towards one of the counters, picking up a pile of photos.

“This one. This one is my favorite.”

It’s of you and Taehyung on the couch, you’re both laughing, leaning into one another spaces. Taehyung has got his hand on your upper thigh and your head is leaning into his chest. It looks like you two are so happy. Like you two never want to leave the island. And at the point you’re sure you never did.

“I like it too.” You say quietly. “We look so happy.”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice. “Show us more.”

~

“Okay, it was nice to meet you both.” You bow your head towards his parents and they smile at one another before they look over at Taehyung.

“Taehyung…”

Then his parents are pulling him to the side and speaking to him in Korean, so you have no idea what’s being said. But Taehyung looks flushed, then he is waving them off.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a blush.

~

“Did you have a nice time?” Taehyung asks you, his hand in your hand as you two walk to the bus stop. “My parents like you.”

“Yes.” You smile shyly, “But also why wouldn’t they? I’m amazing.” You tease, trying to act more confident than you are. Maybe to trick yourself to be nicer to yourself.

“That’s right baby.” Taehyung grins down at you, “You are.”

Although things went really well…you still can’t help but feel anxious over everything. Like you are undeserving of kindness. They were so nice to you even though you’re the reason Taehyung went through a sad phase. But you are trying to accept their love even if it’s really hard.

The bus ride to the stop near his apartment only takes around 20 minutes, you feel yourself nodding off on the bus. You had a long day and the jet lag is definitely starting to take a toll on you.

“Sleepy babe?” Taehyung takes your head in his hand and guides it on his shoulder. “Sleep a little.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself grow more and more sleepy.

Eventually, Taehyung is gently shaking you awake letting you know you two made it to your stop near his apartment. You both walk to his place, the night time air making you feel nice. It’s easier to breathe out here, it’s easier to trick yourself into breathing freely and feeling like you aren’t being totally suffocated.

You walk into the apartment and Taehyung decides to put on a movie. You change into some fresh panties and one of his long t shirts before you’re settling on the couch. Taehyung makes some hot chocolate for the both of you before he is pressing play on the movie.

You aren’t sure what movie this is, what it’s about or anything because you are so god damn tired. You lay down in Taehyung’s lap and eventually fall asleep.

Taehyung looks down at you and feels himself falling more and more in love. Just watching you sleep, he feels himself growing with affection for you. But it’s on his mind. What his parents said to him before you two left.

“She isn’t ready Taehyung…” His mom states plainly, “She will need a lot of time.”

“She does seem like a very good girl.” His dad adds in, “But we can tell how overwhelmed she is.”

Taehyung feels his entire face flush as he tries to gather his words.

“We are going to take it slow.” Taehyung says, “Really slow.”

“Don’t push her too much. We know how badly you want to be with her but it seems like she has some things to figure out before she can commit to you. Just remember that.”

Taehyung huffs out as he recalls their words because they’re right and he knows they are right. You aren’t ready and that’s just the truth. But he can’t give up. But he also can’t pressure you. Where is the balance? What is the balance?

He knows you are probably feeling very pressured right now, even just being in Korea. Did he make a mistake? No, he can’t think that way. He knows everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.

Taehyung watches you sleep more than he watches the movie. He just wants you to be happy, to be comfortable. He lifts you off his body so he can lay down too, spooning you on the sofa. He decides to sleep with you tonight.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday. Taehyung takes you around Seoul, you visit popular sites, eat good food, even do some shopping. It’s the evening now and you two are at some nice restaurant, you even have your own little room.

“Is this not a date?” You playfully ask. “Because it sure feels like one.”

Taehyung takes a moment to think before he is pouting, his bottom lip jut out so far you want to kiss it.

“It is.” He finally says, “But it’s not the first official first date like how Friday will be.”

“Jeez,” You sigh out, a small laugh leaving your lips. “How many unofficial first dates will we have?”

“A million, if we have to.” He teases, reaching over the table for a side dish. “Do you kiss on the first date, y/n?” he suddenly asks, making you blush.

“With you? I just might.” You respond back. “Do you?”

“With you? I definitely will.” He says cooly, “Just an innocent kiss though.” He looks up at you and smirks.

“Oh? Sweet and pure? Like what your parents think—”

“It was sweet and pure!” Taehyung whines, “The sweetest, purest kiss of my life.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “What the hell other kind of kisses you been having?”

“Nothing like yours baby.” He winks at you.

You playfully scoff at him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like kissing me?” Your eyes find his again, “Tell me.”

“I love kissing you. One of my favorite activities.”

“What are your other favorite activities?” you lick your lips, his eyes fall down to them.

“They all include you but I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

“At least tell me one. Or maybe I can guess?” You scoot to his side of the table, your body getting closer and closer to his.

“You can guess.” He gulps as your hand lands on his thigh. “Guess.”

“I think you like when…” your hand slide up and down his upper thigh. “When I touch you.”

“You guess right.” Taehyung stares straight ahead as your hand travels up his thigh higher and higher.

“My hand is one thing, but I bet you like my lips the most?” You lean up and kiss the side of his neck.

“Y/n…” Taehyung says breathlessly. “Not here.”

“Why not?” you continue to kiss his neck, making Taehyung grow weaker with every kiss.

“I don’t deserve to be touched by you.” Taehyung whispers.

“Baby…” You kiss his neck again, “I forgive you.” You say in his ear. Taehyung slowly closes his eyes and starts to shake his head.

“You don’t. You can be upset with me however long it takes.” He says quietly but you aren’t having it. You lean back and grip his arm, urging him to look at you.

“Tae…I said I forgive you. You…I thought a lot about it and yeah, it doesn’t make me happy but also we weren’t in a place that I can actually be upset over it. I’m trying my hardest to be understanding. And I think in the end, it’s no one’s fault that you did what you did. And you said it means nothing to you—”

“Nothing! It really didn’t mean anything…” Taehyung cuts you off, his expression is troubled. He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “y/n…I really wish I could take it back. I regretted it so much.” His eyes begin to bubble over. “That night especially…I wasn’t myself, I was in a dark place, I missed you so much, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your hand reaches up to rub his shoulder. “I know, baby.” You continue to rub his shoulder as soothingly as possible, getting him to calm down.

“You really forgive me?” he asks, his voice small.

“Yes Tae.” You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I might still be a little bitter about it but I will try my best not to be. But overall, I forgive you. I know you regret it. I know the one you love is me…”

“Yes!” Taehyung basically shouts, “You’re the only one I love, I promise you.”

“I believe you.” You say, hugging him close. “This can be one thing we cross off our problems list.” You laugh. “I don’t want this to be a problem anymore.”

“Really baby?” He slips his arm over your shoulder, hugging you back.

“You deserve to be touched by me, Tae. Me and me only though.” You can’t help but chuckle.

“When we get home,” he breathes out, “I will let you touch me.”

“Okay.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

~

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans. His hands go to your hair, he pulls at it making you moan all around his dick.

“You are art.” He grits out. Your tongue swirls over his tip before you take his cock further and further in your mouth. You have drool escaping the corner of your lips, your eyes are fogged up with lust and your cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink. You truly do look like art.

“Take your time baby.” Taehyung moans, “We have all night.” You slowly lick up his length, getting it nice and wet. He moans for you, the low guttural sounds going straight to your pussy. You’ve missed this, missed him, missed his cock. Having him squirming beneath you feels so good as you make him feel amazing.

“I love your mouth…feels so good.” He watches as you bob your head up and down rather slowly. You suck his cock so well it makes him dizzy.

“You know how to make me feel good.” He finally closes his eyes as he just focuses on the feeling you give him. He focuses on your hands on his member, on his balls, he focuses on your tongue and how it licks him over and over. He focuses on your sounds, how you choke on his cock, how you moan for him.

Taehyung hates how close he is. But he hasn’t felt this amazing in months and months. He wishes he could have your lips wrapped around his cock for hours and hours, but he is losing control. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for more.

“Can I come down your throat? Will you swallow for me?” He pants.

You only moan around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He feels himself go tense as he shoots his cum down your throat. You continue to fondle his balls, and suck on his tip as he finishes.

Taehyung whines out, throwing his head back as he comes down from his high. You swallow all his cum like you agreed to, the flavor lingering in your mouth. Tastes like him, tastes so good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung moans, “How are you this good?”

“Let’s just say I was made for you.” You crawl up his body, Taehyung pulls you up by the arms and lays you down on his chest.

“You are, you definitely are.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “No one has ever made me feel like the way you do.”

“No one?”

“Just you my love.”

Explosions. Like, maybe something like fireworks go off in your chest. His new pet name for you makes you feel warm as fuck, and giddy too.

“I’m your love?” You try to pull your lips down, hiding this obvious smile.

“Of course, you are. Love of my life.” He states in a whisper. “I can’t see myself with anyone but you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You respond sweetly. “The feeling is mutual.”

~~~~~

It’s Wednesday. You and Taehyung are just relaxing in his apartment today…you two plan on ordering take out for dinner and watching shows, playing games and just enjoying one another’s company.

“This feels a lot like one of our days on the island.” You say, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it does.”

For the first time, things feel like they never changed. You feel at home with Taehyung, you feel like everything is right, everything is perfect.

“Even being here on this sofa reminds me…”

The slow drag of Taehyung’s cock is enough for your vision to become blurry, almost like you are drunk. The couch isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but you both were so fucking needy for the other…you don’t even care about being watched. Not even for a moment as intimate as this.

Taehyung brings his hands to either side of you and starts rolling his hips into you deeper and deeper, your eyes roll so far back into your head that all you can see is the whites. His cock reaches places you didn’t even know about, you never knew cock alone would make you feel this fucking good.

Dreamy. That’s you would describe this moment. His length brushes against you in ways that make “seeing stars” like a child’s phrase. You’re beyond seeing stars, you are seeing whole galaxies. The universe is in your eyes with the way he makes you feel.

Taehyung’s chest falls to your chest, his lips on your lips as he continues to grind his hips into yours in the most slow, sensual fucking of your life. Can this even be called fucking? This might be called making love.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your steamy thoughts. Your whole face is red as you push back that memory. Taehyung knows though. He sees right through you.

“You’re thinking about the slow fuck, aren’t you?” He winks down at you. “When I fuck you again, it’ll be like that. But even better.”

“When?”

“When I just can’t take it.” He admits, “I have very little control left though.”

“I know it will be amazing.” You sigh out, “I can’t wait to feel that close with you again.” You murmur shyly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“The more I look at you, the more I feel ready.” He says softly, making your heart skip a few beats.

~~~~

Thursday. You had a few days to gather courage but today you are feeling anxious all over again. You have already thrown up twice.

“Baby we can cancel.”

Today you are meeting Taehyung’s friends. Tonight, technically. But it’s only an hour before your meeting time and you are so overly anxious that you are physically sick.

“No, no.” You wave him off, “I’m just being a baby.”

“They’re the ones who said I should bring you back to Korea. No one is going to be mean to you, no one is going to make you feel unwelcome…well…no, no it’ll be fine.” Taehyung rubs your back.

“I know, I know.”

You were once not like this. But after everything that happened with your ex, with your old job and so on, you have become a nervous person. You know this is something you have to work through…

“But if it’s too much, we can cancel.” Taehyung offers again, you just shake your head and smile. He’s so loving, so supportive. What did you do to deserve someone as amazing as him? “No, I need to finish getting ready though.” You rise from the couch, “Will you help me pick something to wear?”

“You packed that green, flowy dress right?” Taehyung grins, “I love that dress on you. Wear that.”

“I was going to wear that tomorrow…for our date…”

“What about that new dress you bought on Tuesday? The red one?”

“Oh that’ll be a better date dress. Hm, okay. Green one tonight then.”

You walk into Taehyung’s bedroom, and take out the green dress. You slip it on over your body and examine yourself in the mirror, you look nice, you will admit.

“Beautiful.” Taehyung comes up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “So beautiful.” He then kisses the side of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

His hands begin massaging your hips, you slowly close your eyes from how good it feels. You grind yourself into Taehyung’s crotch and he immediately groans out.

“We have to leave soon.” Taehyung warns. “Don’t make me get you off.”

“Why can’t we both get off?” You whine, “Just fuck me already.” You continue throwing your ass back into his crotch.

“I think soon but not right now.” He smiles. His hands continue to massage you, he rolls your hips with the guidance of his hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“Hm. Yes.” You open your eyes and make contact with him in the mirror, “I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“What can I do or say to make you feel comfortable?” Taehyung hugs you close.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll try anyway.” He laughs, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. “You are amazing, you are funny, you’re fun to be around, you’re adorable, you’re sexy, my friends are going to love you! They are all so excited, I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggle. “I’ll just have to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You both stare at one another in the mirror for a while, you feel like every moment that passes with his eyes on yours you are falling in love all over again. The time on the island counts but this is real life, this is reality. You have to learn to live with the fact that the island was just one part of your relationship. That this new phase is something worth working on.

“I love you Taehyung.”

Taehyung blinks at you in the reflection, he looks genuinely surprised by your words. He turns you around in his grasp, your face now facing him, just inches away.

“Tell me again.” He says softly. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, your mind starting to fog up with affection for Taehyung.

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough that I will do anything if it means we will be happy together.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung whispers, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head to the side as he leans into your space. His words hit your lips softly and you feel yourself melting, melting so much that Taehyung has to basically hold you up.

“How much do you love me?” You ask, a slight teasing tone. Your eyes half lidded as you stare up at him.

“Enough that I can’t wait until our first date.”

“Can’t wait for wh—”

Suddenly, Taehyung’s lips crash into your lips. He kisses you long and deep. His lips staying on yours for a life time, you feel your knees give out on you. Taehyung holds your body up as you finally start to kiss him back. Your lips move against his slowly, tenderly, with so much feeling, so much passion.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him, your chest coming flush against his. He starts to move his lips against yours a little harder now, a little more desperately, a little more with fire. Taehyung surprises you with the long, dragged out moan that leaves him as he kisses you. Like, this is the first time he has ever kissed you. Like, he has been waiting a life time to kiss you.

His lips part for you and you take the hint to slide your tongue between his lips, finding his tongue tangling with yours immediately. His hands explore your body frantically, they grip you in every place you could want him. Your lips, your tongue, everything tastes so sweet. He can die a happy man after finally kissing you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but Taehyung’s ringing phone indicates that maybe you two are late. Taehyung pulls away from you, his erratic breathing hard to calm. He reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Hello? Uh huh…okay….sorry, sorry. We will be there in a bit.’

You smooth down your hair in the mirror and fix your make up a little bit, then you turn around to face Taehyung again.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“It was Jimin, him and Namjoon are already there. We should get going.” He pulls you in and places a quick peck to your lips. “You ready?”

“Yes. How do I look?”

~~~~

“Gorgeous! You look so gorgeous!” Jimin gushes, he holds you at arm’s length and you look at Taehyung with confused eyes.

“Umm, thank you. You look…gorgeous too.” You admit shyly…well, he does. You didn’t think Jimin would be this beautiful!

“Oh my god, me? Thank you!” Jimin goes in to hug you again, “I thought you were so pretty but pictures do not do you justice girl.”

“Oh my god…thank you…” You laugh, “I knew I looked bad in some of those pics.” You joke.

“Wait that’s not what I meant!” Jimin can’t help but pout…”I meant—”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon steps between you two, “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I’m not sure Jimin here was ever going to give me the opportunity to introduce myself.” He chuckles. You shake his hand and he grins at you.

“It’s so nice to meet y—”

“y/n!” You hear your name being called but you don’t recognize the voice, you glance over your shoulder to see two new bodies walking towards you.

“Hi—” But before you can continue talking you are being engulfed in a hug by one of the men.

“I’m Hobi!” he laughs into your shoulder, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oooh.” You nod your head in understanding, you glance at the other man who just give you a small wave of the hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” He says with a smile. “We are uh, your new friends.” He looks down at the floor, his gummy smile not going unnoticed by you.

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You feel yourself smiling, you feel your heart glowing. Everyone is being so nice, it’s refreshing.

“Okay, stop hugging her Hobi…” Taehyung deadpans. “Where’s Jin and Jungkook?”

“They were right behind us…” Yoongi comments, “They probably got caught up talking to someone on the way in.”

“Well, you know Jungkook. Probably a girl.” Jimin teases, “So should we grab a table?”

You all search for two tables and put them together, so you all have a place to sit. It’s around 9pm. So the bar is starting to get crowded, but it feels fun.

“What are you drinking baby?” Taehyung leans into you, “Want a mixed drink?”

“Yeah, surprise me.” You nod, “Something strong though.” You wink up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Okay.” He leans in and finds your lips. You kiss him back quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin practically drools, “This is the first time we are seeing Taehyungie happy again.”

Guilt. But you’re trying, you are desperately trying to move past that feeling.

“It’s the first time since the island that I am this happy too.” You admit to Jimin. He leans into your space and smiles at you.

“You’re going to make Taehyung so happy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my best.” You giggle.

Taehyung comes back with two drinks, he hands one to you and you immediately gulp it back.

“Well, hello there friends.” A new voice. You look up to see who you assume is Jin and Jungkook.

“I am Jin, your new best friend.” He shakes your hand and you laugh. “This is Jungkook…” he gestures towards the other boy. Jin looks very happy to see you while….Jungkook does not, to put it simply.

“Hi Jungkook.” You wave at him and he only narrows his eyes at you, scoffs and looks away.

“Oh?” You raise a brow…finally, someone who is treating you the way you feel you deserve. Somehow this amuses you.

“Jungkook doesn’t want to be my new best friend?” You tease. You glance at Taehyung who looks tense but he immediately relaxes when he notices you taking this …rather well.

“Why?” Jungkook spits out, “So you can ghost me for 6 months?”

Ouch. But a well-deserved sting.

“Okay,” Taehyung stands to his feet and takes Jungkook by the arm and drags him off to the side so they can talk.

You watch, still amused. You don’t feel hurt by this…Jungkook is just being a good friend. Not that the others aren’t good friends but to be honest you expected this from at least one of them.

“If he doesn’t behave, just report to me and I’ll scold him.” Jin says playfully, “And if Taehyung does anything weird, you let me know and I will set him straight too.”

“I don’t like scolding Taehyungie…” Yoongi begins, “But I’ll do it.”

“Don’t count on me, everything Taehyung does is perfect in my eyes.” Jimin laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking—”

“We aren’t so sure you are.” Namjoon cuts in. “But really y/n…this is the most we have seen Taehyung smile. It’s thanks to you.”

“It’s also my fault he….” Your eyes go to Taehyung who is still scolding Jungkook. “He—”

“It’s no ones fault!” Jimin claps his hands together. “Everything happened the way it did and now we can all move forward. Especially you y/n.” Jimin gives you a sweet smile, “Guilt is an ugly feeling. I would hate for you to be eaten alive by it when you don’t have to be.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears…you didn’t realize you needed an almost stranger tell you something like that…he’s a new friend right? You can call him a friend?

“Jimin…” You sniffle and he starts laughing loudly.

“Oh! Don’t get sad!” He leans in to hug you. “Let’s only make happy memories, okay?”

“The happiest.” Jin chimes in, “We’re all your friends now…and Jungkook will give in eventually.”

“Don’t worry too much about Jungkook…” Yoongi smiles, “He’s sort of the brat around here. You’ll get used to it.”

At this you laugh, you have heard stories. He is the youngest, after all.

“I’m not too concerned.” You admit under a few soft breaths, “It kind of feels good…getting what I deserve.”

“What are you? A Masochist?” Jimin frowns, “You deserve to be happy.”

“And I am…or, I will be. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, we are back!” Taehyung announces his and Jungkook’s presence. “And we are happy to be here, aren’t we Jungkook?” He says with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Totally.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Super happy to be here. Hi y/n.” he mutters underneath his breath. It’s cute actually.

“Hi Jungkook.” You giggle. “Want to take a shot with me?” you offer, standing up. Jungkook pinches his brows together then points to himself.

“With me?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Yes, you.” You nod your head in the direction of the bar, “Coming?”

Taehyung looks over at you, also confused. But you just give him a smile that lets him know it’s okay.

“Sure…” Jungkook shrugs Taehyung off him, “If you’re buying.”

“What a brat.” Jimin laughs. “You should be buying her the drink, not the other way around.”

“No, no. I offered, I’ll buy.” You wink. You start walking towards the bar and Jungkook follows behind you.

You both walk up to the bar and you ask him to order for you, which he does. You both get handed two shots of some liquor and you raise your glass to clink it with his.

He eyes you curiously, wondering what your aim is here.

“Were you ever going to talk to him?” Jungkook finally says something.

“Taehyung believes I was going to…so yes. If he believes it then so do I.” you take your shot and Jungkook follows.

“I don’t like you.” Jungkook states plainly, “You made Taehyung really sad…”

“I know. I don’t think I like myself much either right now. But Jimin made me feel a little better…”

“Jimin will do that.” Jungkook sighs out. “But I still don’t like you.”

“You’re very cute Jungkook.” You reach up and ruffle his hair, you laugh out loud when you notice how red he has become. “You’re a good friend.”

“I-I-I…” He stutters out, feeling his blush hit him hard. “Whatever.” He looks off to the side. “Are you ready to go back or what?” he grumbles shyly.

You nod your head and you both walk back to your tables, Taehyung gives you a look of concern before you are smiling at him. A real life smile. And he relaxes.

“Hey baby.” He says, pulling out your chair for you to sit. “You didn’t grab another drink while you are up?” he asks, “I’ll go.” He stands, placing a kiss on your cheek and you nod gratefully.

“So what are we talking about?” You glance around the boys, “Anything interesting?”

“y/n! This is perfect, we can get a girls perspective.” Hobi smiles at you, “Yoongi has this girl he likes, right?” At this Yoongi groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “But he won’t ask her out!”

“And how can I help?” You laugh.

“Well,” Jimin joins in, “We don’t know how this girl feels. So listen, listen.” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder as he speaks, “She kissed him one time but hasn’t initiated anything since!”

“Oh…” you give Yoongi a look of pity and he starts laughing.

“I knew it.” Yoongi slaps his knee, “She isn’t into me guys.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Jin asks and Namjoon swats his arm. “What? It’s true. She is kissing on random guys all the time, I think you just happened to be one of them.”

“No!” Hobi cuts in, “Listen to this though! She asked for him last weekend, wondering where he was at…like, she missed his attention or whatever.”

“His attention or him?” you ask with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” Namjoon says, “We have to be sure if its him she wants and not his lips.” He starts making kissy faces and you all start laughing.

“Well, if she out tonight?” you ask, “Maybe I need to watch your interactions with her to be sure.”

“Wow, you can be a wing woman.” Hobi says with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god yes a wing woman.” Jimin says with stars in his eyes as well.

“I’m not saying I will be much help!” You giggle, but the boys wave you off, still excited about having a wing woman.

“You’ll really help y/n?” Yoongi asks quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course I’ll help…well, to the best of my abilities.”

“What did I miss?” Taehyung comes to the table, setting your drinks down. He takes a seat next to you.

“y/n is apparently all of our wing woman now.” Jungkook says nonchalantly.

“Psshh, like you need a wing woman.” Jimin teases, “You get girls just by being in the same room as them.”

“Stop trying to make my girlfriend do work when she just got here.” Taehyung pouts, “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“No, it’s nice.” You admit with a blush. “Feels like I have friends.” You say as quietly as possible to where only Taehyung can catch what you are saying. “We are your friends.” You hear Jimin whisper to you as he leans into your space. “Don’t ever doubt that.” Oh. You guess with Jimin next to you he was bound to hear.

“Thanks Jimin…”

Hours and hours pass, drinks are going down like crazy. Everyone is having so much fun it is ridiculous. You haven’t laughed this much probably ever in your life!

You feel yourself growing closer and closer with the boys, especially now that you are all drunk.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you!” Jimin laughs with his whole body, he practically falls out of his chair. “You told him his painting of you looked like a frog!” he snorts.

“Someone had to be honest about his human portraits, I suppose.” Namjoon laughs as well. “But a frog? You’re savage.”

“I thought his painting of the 7 of us was really….special.” Yoongi adds, “But I wouldn’t say we looked like frogs.”

“Oh, he made me look like a god damn frog.” You giggle. “I told him to burn it.”

“And did he?” Hobi asks.

“No, we kept it for the memories…” Then your face lights up. “By the way Tae…”

“Hm?” Taehyung smiles for you, “What is it?”

“Do you have the painting? They left us with a box of stuff right? Things from the island but I didn’t have the painting,”

“Yeah, I have it.” He nibbles on his bottom lip, “Maybe one day when we live together we can put it up…and then one you did of me as well.” He slurs.

“One day.” You grin.

“Oh my god, y/n.” Jimin whines, “You have to move here!”

The rest of the boys start clapping and agreeing, nodding their heads along.

“Wouldn’t that be a culture shock?” Jungkook speaks up, “She doesn’t even speak Korean.”

“Yeah, it would be.” You admit shyly. “But there’s time to think about all of that.”

Taehyung reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jimin slumps his shoulders but smiles for you both anyway. Hobi stands up and offers his hand to you, you look at him quizzically.

“Want to dance?” He asks, “All of us of course, but you’re the lady. So I asked formerly. I don’t know I’m drunk.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, let’s all dance!”

You all head to the dance floor, the music is loud and drowning out any and all worries you had about tonight.

“Having fun?” Taehyung brings you in, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“Time of my life.” You slur out honestly. “I can’t thank you enough for…”

“For what baby?”

“For showing me your world.”

“It can be our world…” He places a kiss on your neck. “One day.”

“I want any world as long as you are in it.” You say breathlessly. “I like your friends a lot.” You tell him and he grins into your neck.

“They’re the best and they will treat you right.” He breathes you in, “I trust them with my life, they’re like brothers.”

“I can tell. They’re a good group of dudes.”

“I can tell they like you too.” He sighs into your hair, “But I like you the most.”

You grind your ass into his crotch in beat with the music, his hands travel all over the front of your body. You two dance like this for a while when a feminine voice cuts through the sound of the music. You and Taehyung both snap your heads in the direction of the voice when you see a girl standing here, her hands on her hips and a look of disappointment on her face.

“Taehyung?” She says, his name sounds wrong on her tongue. This can only be who you think it is.

“Oh hey.” Taehyung awkwardly smiles, “What’s up?”

“Who’s this?” she asks, looking in your direction but she doesn’t look at you directly.

You don’t want to feel intimidated but it’s her. It’s Hana. She is even prettier in person. She’s got two friends with her, but they are talking to the boys.

“This is—”

“I’m y/n.” you say as confidently as possible.

“My girlfriend.” Taehyung says, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “y/n this is Hana.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” You smile, and she scoffs. Fucking scoffs.

“………..” she says in Taehyung’s direction but you have no idea what she said since it was in Korean.

You stand here awkwardly, swaying from side to side as Taehyung talks to her…you wish you knew what they were saying. But you’re almost too drunk to care.

“Excuse us!” you smile, with Taehyung’s hand in yours you drag him to the bar leaving Hana behind.

“y/n.” Taehyung sighs out, “She was just—”

“Huh? It’s fine, Tae. I just wanted a drink and to be spending less time with her and more time with you.”

Taehyung can’t help the smirk that his lips curve into. He grabs you by the hips, pulls you in for a hug then leans away to look at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says before leaning in to kiss you. His tongue prodding its way into your mouth, you moan out loud and swirl your tongue with his. Your kisses are rushed, sloppy and messy. And drunken as fuck.

“You guys are so hot.” Jimin whines as he walk up to you two, ordering his own drink.

You pull away from Taehyung and start laughing.

“Get two more of what you just got.” Taehyung smiles, “On me.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Jimin cheers. Then he is ordering two more drinks as Taehyung slides his card over the bar top.

“I saw you guys talking to Hana…” Jimin whispers to you, “How was that?”

“Don’t care.” You shrug, “She didn’t look very happy to see me though.”

“She was hopeful…” Jimin admits, “That she could get Taehyung to fall in love with her. She had been trying for a long time…then he disappears for 8 months and is in love with someone else. She tried to be understanding but it was still hard on her.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung butts in with the drinks, “Because I told her you’re my girlfriend and the one I love so…”

“I know, Tae.” You smile, “I may not understand Korean but I got that much.” You laugh.

Jimin joins you in your giggles as he chugs the entire drink in one go.

“y/n!!” Yoongi stumbles over, “She’s here! She’s here! I need you my wing woman!”

Your eyes crinkle from how hard you are cheesing. You lean up to kiss Taehyung on the lips before walking towards Yoongi and following him to wherever he’s hanging out.

It’s a perfect night so far.

~

“Hold my hand.” Taehyung slurs with a pout on his lips. “Want to feel you, want to touch you, want to fu—”

“Want to what now?” You laugh into your palm, as you reach for Taehyung’s hand. He holds you close to him as you two walk back to his apartment, his body swaying into yours and yours into his.

“Fuck…I want to fuck you.” He whispers in your ear before he bursts out laughing for no drunken reason.

“I’d let you baby. But sober you would be mad at drunk you.” You slur out yourself, “I know how important waiting is for you.”

“You don’t get it…I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“I am drunk but babe, I’m serious.” He tries to give you a straight face. “I feel overwhelmed with love for you.”

You feel your heart doing flips in your chest, you feel butterflies in your stomach and you feel your head going dizzy with affection.

“Really?”

“It went really well tonight.” Taehyung says, “So well that I have decided you are definitely my perfect match and that company did me the biggest favor because how else would I have met you?”

Usually the mention of the company would make you sad or anxious but somehow you feel grateful too.

“Tae…” you squeeze his hand, “My soulmate.” You bump your shoulder into his side.

“We are fucking soulmates.” He says, then he yells it out for the whole street to hear then he’s laughing deeply.

“Fucking soulmates.” He repeats just loud enough for only you to hear.

You two finally get to his apartment, you stumble in and plop yourselves down on the couch. Taehyung pulls you into his lap and starts kissing your neck, your collarbone, you shoulder. His lips devouring every free piece of skin he can find.

“Taehyung…” you moan, “Let’s wait until we are sober.” You breathe out roughly.

Taehyung continues kissing your skin and hums an ‘okay’. He lifts himself off you and gazes into your eyes.

“I will stay awake until I sober up. Until you sober up. Then I am going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you with so much fucking love you will be coming all around my cock time after time. You ready for that baby? You ready to have my cock coming inside you?”

You can’t help but gulp as you blink at him, then you are slowly nodding your head.

“Then let’s drink some water and make out until this room is no longer spinning. We aren’t sleeping tonight.” Taehyung warns in a deep, deep voice.

“We’re really staying awake until we sober up?” you laugh. “Aren’t you afraid we will fall asleep?”

“Baby, knowing that I get to fuck you in a few hours is all the motivation I need to stay awake. I believe you are the same. I know you are desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”

And you are, you fucking are.

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #Taehyung smut #Taehyung angst #Taehyung fluff #the island chapter 10

[flareish]

Anxiety

kuroo x reader

summary: you hide your anxiety from basically everyone including your boyfriend, until he finds out for himself

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: Emetophobia Warning! description of nausea/vomit, anxiety, bit of angst but ends in fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I tried to make this as close to my anxiety since I hadn’t known anyone with my kind of anxiety(symptom wise) until I was seventeen, which was a good ways into when I realized I had anxiety. So here is some nausea anxiety representation!

masterlist

You tap your fingers in a mindless rhythm. Alternating the fingers and repeating them back and forth, trying to make it a game, a challenge. You did this over and over again to distract yourself from that all too familiar sinking feeling. That feeling like your stomach has managed to twist and knot itself a million times. Each bump of the bus made acid crawl up your throat. You crunched a mint in your mouth hoping the peppermint would soothe some of the nausea. It didn’t, but the thought was there. You just will yourself not to throw up on the bus, anything but that. The thought in itself makes you even more nervous, and in turn even sicker.

You don’t even know why you are anxious. Today is Kuroo’s big game, but it isn’t yours. You’ve been to a hundred of his games before but never before did you feel like this. Normally you get cute little butterflies, not an angry swarm of bees. The worst part is, there is Kuroo sat next to you happy as can be, completely oblivious. He keeps trying to drag you into conversations but you fear if you open your mouth for too long, all that will come up is vomit. So you keep your mouth firmly closed only smiling tightly or shaking your head at his prompts.

It's not exactly his fault though. He doesn’t actually know you have anxiety. It’s not something you really like to talk about. You are all for promoting the acceptance of mental health but you just find every time you tell someone the dynamic changes. Either they flat out don’t believe you since you “don’t seem like the type with anxiety”. Well duh, I don’t have social anxiety, I have situational anxiety. Like here in this situation. That or they suddenly treat me like I am incapable of handling myself. That whenever a slightly stressful event comes up, I am going to melt into a puddle of pure anxiety. Sorry but I’ve made it this far, I may have to throw up a few times on the way but I am still making it. 

So you just haven’t told Kuroo. You're just nervous that it will change the dynamic. You also don’t want to steal his spotlight. Today is supposed to be all about him. It's his big game. To suddenly speak up and tell him that his game is giving you anxiety would be selfish. So like you always have, you put a brave face on and face it head-on.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kuroo asks you, now facing you, “You look a little pale.”

“Hmm?,” You also turn to look at him, “Oh I am just a bit tired that’s all. I will be fine in an hour or so.” You hope at least. He nods relieved it's not something worse. 

You finally pull into the stadium and everyone is pushing their way off the bus. Luckily Kuroo is right by you to make sure you don't get accidentally pushed down the bus stairs and trampled. The team makes it’s to the bulletin board where they are given their matchups. Nekoma is paired with a pretty hard team. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you dry heave. You knew at the point you were going to throw up and within the next few minutes. 

“Hey I think I left something in the bus I’ll be right back.” You say to Kuroo before dashing off. He goes to reply but you are already gone. 

You make it around the back of the building before you throw up. At this point you’re kinda out of it, your mind is occupied on emptying your already empty stomach. Then you feel someone pull your hair back and gently rub your back. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Kuroo. When you finish he hands you his water bottle.  You waterfall it and rinse your mouth out of that acidic taste. 

“What’s going on are you okay?” Kuroo asks full of concern. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of telling the truth. Then you remember this is supposed to be his day. 

“Sorry I must have caught a stomach bug.” He doesn’t completely buy it so you quickly add to it.

“I didn't feel great on the bus but I just thought it was because I was tired.” You feel bad lying, “I also don’t want to distract you before your game.” At that Kuroo quickly pulls you into a hug, “Your not a distraction, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Your cheek is pressed against his chest and your hands grip the front of his shirt. 

“We should probably head back.” You mumble.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss you but you duck away. He looks incredibly offended and hurt at this.

“Dude I just threw up I don’t know if you want to do that.” 

“…Point.”

The two of you head back inside to the team, you feeling much better after throwing up. Before you know it, the competition has begun and Nekoma has won. You run down and celebrate with the team and it’s a happy day.

On the bus ride home Kuroo has a strange energy about him. Not like he’s mad more just like he’s just realized something. You nudge him and smile hoping to break him out of his little funk. He immediately smiles back and goes back to celebrating with the team. His reaction was almost like putting a mask on. You watch him for a moment before slipping into a conversation of your own.

When you make it back to school you go your separate ways. Him going to shower, and you to get home before it gets too late. A big hug before pushing away. You still refusing to kiss him after throwing up earlier in the day. 

You are laying on your bed, exhausted. Anxiety really takes a toll on your energy. Your thoughts are broken when your phone chimes with a text.  Leaning over to grab your phone off your bedside table you see it is from Kuroo. 

“Can you come over? I want to talk.”

No cute pet names. No slowly easing into it. Actually using proper grammar. Nothing in that message was a good sign. Just “I want to talk” was enough to make the acid begin to crawl again. You knew it had to be about today. Especially after you saw him zoning out on the bus. It had to be your anxiety episode. You knew he wouldn’t be happy you lied but going to this extent. Like he just found out you have anxiety and this is what he hits you with? The world’s most nerve-wracking text message. The only worse place than this would be “we need to talk”. That’s when you have really screwed up. So maybe you’ve only minorly screwed up since he said want not need. Does that mean you have the choice to say no? That was kind of tempting but you knew you would be tossing and turning all night thinking about what might be wrong. 

“Okay.” You reply to the text. Short and sweet. Putting on some shoes and grabbing a hoodie, you quietly slip out of your house. Kuroo’s house wasn’t too far but it was far enough. Enough to continue to stir in your intrusive and unstoppable thoughts. You eventually make it to his house and head in going straight for his room. Before you reach the door you hesitate and gather yourself. Preparing for whatever was about to come. 

When you go in you find Kuroo sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the bed. He jerkily looks up and you and gives you a tight smile. None of this is giving good signs. Something is very heavy on his mind. You sit down across from him, your back against the wall your feet almost touching. 

“So what was it you wanting to talk about.” You break the silence. He doesn’t respond for a moment. Just as you are about to try again he speaks up.

“Do you still love me?” Your face drops into confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I love you anymore?” You ask, suddenly realizing this wasn’t the conversation you were prepping yourself for. 

“You’ve been distant lately. You don’t tell me things like when you don’t feel good. I thought about it when I got home and I was wondering if you weren’t actually sick but just making the excuse because you got caught.” He’s very serious at the moment and his words hold a cold edge. 

“What do you mean get caught?” You match his tone. You weren’t planning on fighting but something about how he said it just set something off in you.

“You didn’t want to be there. Ever since this morning you were quiet and reserved. Even after the game, you wouldn’t even kiss me-”

“Yeah, cause I threw up! And how could I be faking it when I literally threw up.” You snap.

“You’ve been like this before though! Like last year’s big tournament you would barely talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” Although it kind of was just not the reason he thought.

“Oh yeah? What about at training camp you wouldn’t talk to me then either, you didn’t even eat with us you just sat on your own.” He threw back.

“Yeah, cause I have anxiety!” The words left your mouth before you knew it. Kuroo looked taken back.

“What?” His brow furrows, “Since when?” He’s not sure what to believe. You’re not surprised since you have worked very hard to hide it from everyone, accidentally sabotaging your own relationship without even knowing it. 

“Since forever. I just never told anyone.” You quietly say, ducking your head down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even need to look up to see the hurt on his face, it was apparent in his voice. You start playing with your finger, tapping them in rhythms.

“I wanted to,” You mumble, “But whenever I do stuff changes and I didn’t want anything to change.” He shifts forward and you think he’s going to leave. Instead, he grabs your hands, stopping the pattern you had going. You look up.

“Did you think I would judge you?” He was staring straight into you, willing the truth to come out.

“Whenever I tell people they either don’t believe me and brush it off or treat me like I’m incapable of handling any amount of stress. I’ve never seen anyone react any differently so I was scared you would fall into one of those reactions and I didn’t know how I could handle that. I didn’t want my anxiety to be the thing to tear us apart. But I guess it still was.” By the end of your speech, your gaze has returned back to the floor, unable to hold eye contact for that long with him staring at you so strongly. You hear him sigh then you are pulled forward and into his arms. 

“I want to be your pillar of support. I want to be that third reaction that is one of acceptance, one that doesn’t drive you crazy.” He strokes your hair soothingly, his words making you tear up, “When you are ready I want you to tell me everything. From when you first noticed it, to where it is now, to how you deal with it, everything.” By now you are fully crying, absolutely collapsed into his chest. “I love you so much.” It gets muffled in his shirt but he hears it.

“I know, and I love you.”

It would take some time for Kuroo to get used to this change but slowly but surely he will be different from the rest and he will support you no matter what. Although he also respects your strength and knows you can handle your anxiety on your own, he is always there when you need it. He becomes the third unexpected and unheard-of reaction; acceptance.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo scenarios #kuroo hurt/comfort #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo

[keilemlucent]

(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧  (minors do not interact) 

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating, 

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside. 

It is easier this way. 

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.  

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe. 

Acid stings your throat for hours. 

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.) 

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

 (You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

 You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

 Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward! 

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips. 

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks. 

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting. 

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom. 

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

 You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

#salem writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw yandere #tw vomit #it's vomit from illness btw #tw self injury #please lemme know if i miss a tag #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #i might delete this or repost to my side blog sdklfjla #we will see #for now it is here

[stuckyxren]

Back at it again…….

Just imagine..

You are over worked and exhausted.

You are going through a breakup, are working 40+ hours a week, and you are taking 4 college classes on top of trying to have any life at all.

Sleep doesn’t come easy and you are stressed to the point of breaking out into hives. You just want to stop and let your best guy friends snuggle you in between them, but you don’t have time to stop. There is so much to do and so little time. The emotional and mental toll it’s all taking is making you even more tired than ever before.

Steve and Bucky arrive on your floor one evening. After realizing they hadn’t heard from you in a few hours, and knowing you are home since you got off of work hours prior, they felt the need to come check on you. They see through the charade you’ve been fronting for them. Hell, Bucky is an ex assassin. He knew as soon as it started, but Steve wanted to give you some space to get used to the routine of things before trying to fix it all for you. Steve knows you want to be independent, but they both know you are getting near, if you haven’t already passed, your breaking point.

You are sitting in your bed, music ridiculously loud, typing quickly on your laptop. A cup of coffee sits on your nightstand, even though it is pretty late into the evening, as you attempt to get as much done as you can. Exhaustion crept up on you before you even got home, but you had too many assignments due in one week, so you just keep the music up to keep yourself awake and drink a cup or two of coffee. Your getting the jitters as you haven’t eaten anything since lunch time and this is your 3rd cup of coffee today.

Steve and Bucky walk right into your open bedroom door, but you don’t even notice them. From afar, the boys see the tremors in our hands, the way your legs bounce even as you sit. They know that look. You are over caffeinated and exhausted, on the brink of a panic attack, and you don’t even realize it. Your face is flushed and sweat is starting to bead on your forehead as the boys witness your anxiety build when you obviously make a mistake.

Steve walks straight into your en-suite as Bucky calls to you.

“Hey doll. You okay?” Bucky practically yells over the music. You jump and quickly scramble into a fighting position, swaying dangerously on your feet. Bucky steps forward to steady you. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Just as Steve comes in, you collapses into Bucky, no longer able to hold yourself up. Your breaths are coming in short and fast as you claw to get ahold of Bucky. Your weakness and sudden dizziness scaring you.

“I’ve gotcha.” Bucky murmurs as he catches you, hoisting you into his arms. Bucky begins walking toward the living room as Steve follows suit, grabbing your trash bin on the way out. This has happened before. Your nerves, plus your exhaustion, plus not eating, plus the caffeine, plus the anxiety attack normally makes you sick to your stomach. Sometimes nothing happens, but Steve knows to be prepared.

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Look at me beautiful.” Steve said as Bucky sat down with you in his lap, your back to his chest. Steve sits beside y’all, grabbing your face gently in his hands, attempting to make eye contact. “I need you to slow down for us. Can you do that?”

You shake your head, reaching up to grip Steve’s wrists. You squeeze your eyes and your mouth shut as the nausea climbs and you squirm in Bucky’s lap.

Bucky rubs your stomach above your shirt and leans his head on your shoulder, quietly shushing you in between saying sweet nothings. Both boys are trying their hardest to calm you down, but they are having no luck.

“Excuse me, I have requested for Agent Romanoff to come assist.” Friday breaks in.

Just as the AI informs y’all, Natasha walks in with a glass of water and a few pills. “Banner asked me to run these up for you guys. Friday informed him of her vitals while we were doing some paper work in the lab.”

“Thanks Tasha.” Bucky replies, reaching out his free hand to grab the items from the assassin. “We got it from here. Don’t wanna crowd her too much.”

“Of course.” Natasha replies, gently running a hand through your hair. “Feel better немного любви (little love).” Then she’s gone.

Steve has a sharp eye on you and is preparing to lunge for the trash can that he has as he watches your face turn a grayish color as your breathing picks up even more. Steve watches as Bucky puts the wash cloth on the back of your neck and resumes rubbing your stomach. Steve keeps his hands on your face even as you tilt your head back to rest on Bucky’s shoulder. The temperature of your face rises as the panic and nausea rises.

Just as the nausea hits its brink, your face suddenly goes a bit colder. Steve feels the change and lunges to shove the trash can under your chin. Bucky pulls your hair away from your face as you heave into the trash bin Steve provides.

You attempt to hold back the wave of coffee that threats to come up. “Ste- uuurk” You attempt to cry out, but that sends the coffee up and out.

“Shhhhh Hunny. I know. You’re okay.” Steve shushes you. At this point, all they can do is let it happen and take care of you. Steve and Bucky exchange sympathetic glances over your shoulder as they each attempt to soothe you.

You get sick multiple times. Occasionally, Bucky gives your back a few thumps when you sputter. The boys shush you and try to soothe your shaking and jarring form as they wait it out with you.

After a few minutes, you sit back, finally finished. You pant as Bucky pulls you further into him and Steve backs off slightly. The trash can is placed a bit away, but still within reach. Steve takes off his shirts, using the white tank top to clean off your mouth before handing you the water. Steve has you rinse and spit before allowing you to drink any water.

The room is silent as you all wait to make sure the water will stay down. After a few minutes with nothing happening, but the sound of you panting between sips, they get to work.

“Here Buck. I’ll take her. Can you go clean that out and make her something light?” Steve asks his boyfriend, reaching for you.

You allow Steve to take you as Bucky gets up with a nod in Steve’s direction. You snuggle down as Steve takes the glass and sets it on the coffee table. Your head rests on his chest as you listen to his heart beat and Bucky working in the kitchen. You finally begin calming down as Steve sits with you in silence, letting you match your breathing to his own as he holds you close, rubbing your back gently.

When Bucky comes back, he gives you some soup and crackers, telling you to eat some so that you can take your medicine. You comply, exhausted and knowing that he is right.

“You gotta quit doing this to yourself doll.” Bucky says as he hands the medication to you after you finish up.

Steve still has you in his lap. You are reclined back into his chest and he rests his chin on your shoulder. “He’s right. You gotta quit overworking yourself. You just literally made yourself sick.”

“I know.” You reply, tilting your head down. You feel ashamed that they had to come to your rescue because you couldn’t have better time management. “I just have a lot on my plate. I’m sorry.” Then the tears start falling.

“Hey. Hey. Hey. None of that.” Bucky says, gently tilting your face up and wiping at the tears as they fall. “We know you do, but you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Like stopping for meals, drinking more water, sleeping.” Steve says, rubbing your arms.

“I know. Sometimes I get so stuck in what I’m doing. I forget.” You sigh.

“We know. That’s why we came up.” Steve replied. “We hadn’t heard from you in a while. You’ve been like this since the breakup and we were starting to get worried.”

“Well, I’ve been worried, but we wanted to let you have some time to readjust. Half a year is a long time to be dating someone. Some people might think otherwise, but by then, you have routines and you’ve been with someone romantically and it can be hard to get used to being alone again.” Bucky says, fighting to be that vulnerable, but knowing you need to hear it.

“It’s been so hard.” You answer quietly. “I got used to always having someone to talk to, someone to cuddle, someone to watch movies with and eat junk food. Someone who I loved and thought I would spend the rest of my life with. *sniff* I feel so alone and working or doing homework makes me forget sometimes.” You cry, leaning further into Steve, curling up in his lap as you talk.

Bucky continues to wipe your tears. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers you with it as he sees the look of exhaustion on your face. The battle for sleep has begun now that your body has been fed and properly hydrated.

“We know sweetheart. We know.” Steve murmurs, tightening his hold on you. “We’ve got you now though. We will help you in any way that we can.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees, snuggling into you and Steve. “We can snuggle. We can watch movies and eat junk. We can even talk to you all the time.”

“It may not be the same.” Steve says, turning to kiss you on the crown of your head. “But we love you.”

“I love you guys too.” You say as you drift to sleep.

Later on, once they are sure you are asleep, the boys carry you to bed and lay down with you. Bucky clears the bed off and goes around your floor to make sure everything is off for the night before returning to you and Steve. Once Steve gets his good night kiss from Bucky, they both place a kiss on your forehead before laying down beside you to sleep.

#bucky x reader #mcu #steve rogers x reader #stucky #james bucky barnes #emeto #emeto tw #emetophilia #anxitey #steve rogers fluff #stucky fluff #bucky fluff

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

my body is a cage.

ObNeSummary: Y/N’s worst nightmare has become a reality. Her only saving grace is that she doesn’t have to do it alone. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,000+ [One Shot]

Warning: Feminist Issues, Adult/Mature Themes (NOT smut)

Y/N could feel her heart start racing faster as she studied the doctor’s office. Now she was starting to sweat as well. 

Her doctor were running late and that meant Y/N was stuck looking at the nondescript walls and smelling that sterile scent for 20 minutes. It felt like an hour. 

It was just a follow-up appointment. There was no bad news expected to be given. But that didn’t stop Y/N’s anxiety. 

Y/N finally gave up on trying to calm herself down through breathing and reached down to grab her cellphone out of her purse. 

There was a two text message notifications: one from her mom and one from Jason. 

She opened the one from Jason. 

– Good luck at your appointment today. Remember to breathe. 

Y/N smirked at the message. Jason knew how stressed out Y/N got for literally any type of doctor’s appointments. Even if it was just your usual checkup – like today – it caused her anxiety for some reason. 

Jason must’ve sent it right before passing out after patrol. 

Finally the doctor came in, making Y/N jump and almost drop her phone. She hid her scare well and quickly put her phone back into her purse. 

“Hi Y/N, so we finally got your blood work back,” she began. 

“Great. Will I be able to get a prescription and pick it up today?” Y/N asked quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

“So one of the many reasons we get blood drawn before prescribing this medication is to make sure you’re not pregnant before going on it.” Before Y/N could speak, she quickly added. “You’re test results came back positive.” 

Y/N’s mouth opened at the statement. 

Her mind was going a million miles a second, trying to process what the doctor has just told her. 

When was the last time she had her period?

Why did it feel 20 degrees hotter in here all of the sudden?

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. This really couldn’t be happening. She tried so, so hard to make sure this didn’t happen. This was her nightmare. This was her fucking nightmare coming to fucking life. 

By some miracle, the doctor didn’t smile with joy and exclaim a congratulations. She seemed to sense that Y/N was on the brink of having an anxiety attack. 

“I remember you saying you did’t intend on ever having any kids, so I’m sure this is a lot to process,” the doctor told her gently. “Why don’t we hold off on this medication – even if it’s just for a couple of days? Just give yourself a second to process and come up with a plan.” Then she gave Y/N an encouraging smile. “When you want to make another appointment, I’ll make sure reception squeezes you in. Alright?” 

Y/N couldn’t do anything but nod – and even that was far too delayed. 

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” The doctor asked softly. 

But Y/N shook her head. 

When Y/N got out of the doctor’s office and back on the streets of Gotham, she seemed to snap out of it a bit. 

Her ears weren’t ringing any longer and the cold, winter air was doing miracles. 

‘Get to Jason,’ Y/N’s heart suddenly screamed at her. 

And just like that, Y/N went into autopilot, grabbed a cab, and gave them her address. As she watched the buildings go by, Y/N’s mind was simultaneously thinking a million things and thinking nothing at all. It was almost a buzz. 

When she got back to her apartment, the TV was on but the volume was off. Sometimes Jason would watch it after patrol and hope it would bore him to sleep. But her giant, vigilante of a boyfriend wasn’t sleeping on the couch, so that meant he was in their bed. 

Y/N toed off her shoes, tossed her keys on the side table by the door, and hung her denim jacket – no, Jason’s denim jacket – on the coat rack. 

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open to find Jason passed out on his side. His arm was reached over to the other side of the bed as if his body had searched out for hers in his sleep and came up empty. 

Y/N tiptoed to the bed and carefully slid into the empty side of the bed. 

Jason stayed asleep, meaning he must’ve been really exhausted. Usually her presence would stir him, even if it was just for a few seconds. 

Sometimes Y/N would come in here when she got back from work and take a cat nap with him before getting started on dinner or leaving to work out. Sometimes she would just cuddle with him, he would wake up and sleepily ask about her day while bringing her into his – even when she told him to go back to sleep. 

Now Y/N laid on her side and watched him sleep. 

Even when he looked exhausted and various scars were scattered across his face, Jason Todd was beautiful. 

And when he was sleeping like this, he looked so young. Y/N wondered if that was how Jason always looked to Bruce: innocent, vulnerable, forever young.

Y/N reached forward shakily and brushed the white streak of his hair off his face. His hair was getting shaggier than usually allowed. She wondered if he’d ask her to cut it again or if he’d finally listen to her and go to a barber. 

“You run your hands through my hair and I’ll be putty in your hands,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed. 

Y/N froze and stopped her combing, her hands shooting back to her chest. 

Her silence and pause made Jason’s eyes squint open. 

Those blue eyes of his were always perception, especially when it came to the woman he loved with all his heart. And as soon as they locked with Y/Ns, they immediately knew that something was wrong. 

His brow wrinkled. “You OK?” His voice laced with worry and concern.

Suddenly… Y/N’s mind and body were given the chance to release the reaction they wanted to have since the news was broken.

Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears burst from her eyes. 

And then Y/N was shoving her face into her boyfriend’s chest. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason consoled. “What happened? What’s going on?” 

But Y/N couldn’t even form words. She was fully hyperventilating. 

Her chest literally hurt as the sobs escaped. She was shaking as if it was freezing in the room, despite Jason’s body basically being her own personal furnace. And she felt like she was going to throw up at any second. 

Was that morning sickness? Or was the just good ol’ fashioned nausea?

Jason quickly realized he wasn’t going to get any verbal communication right now. So he just held her in his arms, letting her cry it out as he rubbed a hand up and down her back. 

But his mind was shuffling through all of the possibilities. 

Had someone hurt her? Did she get fired? Did a group of assholes catcall her on the way home? 

But none of those seemed like things that would upset Y/N in such a manner. 

“Breathe, Y/N. Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly as he kissed the top of her head. 

She barely gave a nod to show that she was trying to do what he advised. 

With her eyes wet and bloodshot from tears and her face swollen, Y/N finally pulled away from Jason’s chest so he could see her. 

“Deep breath,” he reminded her again gently. “Can you tell me what’s gotten you so upset? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N sniffled, really just to buy herself a second before she said it. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s body tensed. His eyes studied hers, looking for any sign that she was not being absolutely serious. 

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Jason muttered, now realizing why she’d had such a reaction. 

But then he quickly recovered, realizing that she still needed him because she was freaking the fuck out. Obviously. She just had a full-on panic attack in his arms. And she was probably moments away from possibly having another. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, look at me.”

She took in a deep breath and did as he asked. 

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. OK?”

She just stared at him. 

“OK?” He asked again, making sure she understood what he was telling her. 

She nodded. 

“I don’t want it,” Y/N exhaled. 

The words came out on their own, like she had no control over them. 

Jason winced, not at her statement, but because she sounded so desperate and scared. 

He gave her a sympathetic look and cupped her cheek. “I know, Y/N. I know.” 

Then he brought her back into his arms, holding her protectively, as usual – but protecting her from something he never had to before. 

“I know how you feel about it. I’ve always did,” he told her softly. “Just try to relax. OK?”

She nodded. 

Jason didn’t try to fill the silence. He didn’t try to say comfort after comfort. His touch did more things for Y/N then he words ever did. She needed to be held, not lectured or verbally coddled.

After a few moments, he looked down at her. “We can order from your favorite place, OK? Have a little movie marathon or finish watching that show.”

She gave him a small, shy smile at that.

“Sound good,” he asked. 

She nodded again. 

———

30 minutes later, Jason was scrolling the internet, researching Planned Parenthood locations while waiting for their takeout to get there. 

Y/N, exhausted from her emotional and mental breakdown, had fallen asleep a few minutes after telling Jason the news. 

Jason figured the least he could do is take the logistical weight off Y/N’s shoulders. All of this was happening to her and it was his fault. He knew she’d never frame it that way, but that’s how he felt right now. And he’d do anything to make it easier for her. 

But all of the sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck suddenly stood on end. 

The next millisecond, he grabbed the nearest hidden gun, shot to his feet, and pointed it at the window. 

“Relax, Todd.”

“Demon Spawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jason lowered the gun. 

To Jason’s annoyance, Damian jumped down from the window and into the apartment, dressed in his full Robin uniform. 

“When you texted about covering your patrol tonight, father asked me to check on you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Liar. No, he didn’t.”

“So, why aren’t you on patrol?” 

“Y/N needed me.”

Damian’s body tensed. 

For as much of hard time as Damian gave Jason, he didn’t mind his girlfriend. However, the preteen would never admit to actually liking her or enjoying time spent with her. But the whole family saw it anyway. 

“Is she sick?” 

Jason just nodded, not really having the energy to compose a big lie. 

Then Damian caught sight of the laptop screen and saw what Jason had been researching. 

“Oh,” Damian blurted out without thinking. It was a very unusual reaction from him. He always had something to say.  

“Just…keep it to yourself, k?” Jason asked. 

The last thing he needed right now was Damian blabbing around about Y/N. 

But Damian nodded, not giving any further reaction to his discovery. 

———

“What’s Alfred the Cat doing here?” Y/N asked as she cradled the cat and walking into the kitchen the next morning. 

“Damian,” was all Jason provided.

Y/N laughed at his crypticness. “Did he need a cat sitter?”

Jason shook his head. “He came snooping when I told them I wasn’t going on patrol. And…Well, he’s Bruce’s kid, so you can imagine how quickly he put it together.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped when she realized what Jason was saying. 

“He brought some of human Alfred’s cookies for you, too.” Jason added quickly, maybe to soften the blow a bit. 

“That was sweet of him,” was all Y/N mumbled in return. 

“I think he was worried about you. Figured some cookies and cuddles from Alfred would make you feel better,” Jason explained. “Of course, he didn’t verbally express any of that because he’s emotionally constipated.”

Y/N managed to force a smirk at the joke. 

Silence filled the kitchen. 

“I made you an appointment today,” Jason told her gently. “Not that I’m trying to force you to do anything. You can cancel it if you want to. I was just trying to–”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut him off and dropped the cat to wrap Jason in a hug. “Thank you, Jason.” She repeated, mumbled this time, since her face was now buried in his chest. 

“Of course,” he told her before kissing her head. “Want some breakfast?”

He chuckled when he felt her nodding enthusiastically against him. 

“Your favorite?”

She nodded again. 

“You gonna let me go so I can make it?”

She shook her head no. 

“Alright, spider monkey, let’s do this.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room as Jason somehow managed to maneuver her body so she was on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. And she piggybacked around the kitchen with him as he made them breakfast. 

———

“Welp,” Y/N said bitterly as she looked at the building from across the street. “Don’t know how I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jason sighed as he watched too. 

There were a dozen people with picket signs. One said, “It’s a child, not a choice.” Another said, “Jesus loves you both.” One of the men had a megaphone. One woman held a box with figurines that inaccurately showed how far along the fetus would be when it’s aborted. 

“Wait here,” was all Jason said. 

“Wait, what? Jason! Jason, don’t!” Y/N hissed. 

But Jason was already halfway across the street. With the traffic and general noice of Gotham, Y/N could hear nothing. But it was clear that he was talking to him. 

“Oh, for christ’s sake,” Y/N sighed when she saw all of their faces shift to utter horror. Whatever he was saying to them had clearly terrified them. 

It only took a minute before Jason jogged back to her and offered his hand. 

“Come on,” he said encouragingly. 

“What the fuck did you just do?” She asked him. 

“I told them all of their names, social security numbers, and addresses,” Jason told her lightly. “Oh! And their top porn searched.” He gave them a glance. “And said if they even so much as looked at you, I would do what I wanted with that information."

“So…you threatened them.”

Jason tilted his head and shrugged innocently. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Jason…” she groaned. 

“I thought you would be proud. I didn’t use physical violence. I’m growing!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. 

But lo and behold, none of the protesters so much as faced their direction as they walked past. 

Y/N wondered how long it took Jason to memorize all that information. Did he ask Tim to hack street cameras and use face recognition to even find all of them? 

In the most messed up way, it warmed Y/N’s heart. It just showed a new angle of Jason’s protectiveness. Guess that was just another perk of dating a dangerous vigilante with too many connections and resources. 

Besides his little threat, Jason hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since they left the apartment – even now, as they sat in the waiting room. 

If he was anxious at all, he was doing a beautiful job of hiding it.

Y/N guessed that’s what happened when someone had the history of Jason. This was like a walk in the park for him.  

But when they called her name, Y/N looked at Jason with slight panic. 

“I can’t go with you. It’s against policy,” he told her softly. “But I’ll be right here when you get out. OK?”

She nodded. 

He must’ve learned that when he was doing all his research. 

“You good? Huh?” He whispered, keeping eye contact. 

She nodded again. 

“You’ll be fine,” then he kissed her. 

Just as Y/N reached the nurse, she turned to her boyfriend again. “I love you,” she mouthed to him. 

“I love you too,” he mouthed back. 

———

Y/N had been drained when they finally got back to their apartment. 

All she wanted was to take a nap with her boyfriend. 

A couple hours later, she had finally had the energy to stay awake. 

But neither of them had any interest in getting out of bed. So instead they stayed cuddled close.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked her. 

“Physically or mentally?” 

“Both.”

“Physically, fine mostly. Some cramping. They said that was normal. But my period is ten times worse.” Then she sighed. “Mentally…like…I’m in control. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. 

“And relieved. Fuck,” she half laughed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” 

“I’m glad.”

Then Y/N smirked mischievously. “Are you sad you won’t see me wearing those stupid overalls with a baby bump,” then she dramatically fanned her hands, “as we have a montage of us painting a nursery?”

Jason laughed at that. “OK. Well I don’t live in a fucking Lifetime commercial.” Then he smirked. “I’ll take the overalls without the baby bump, though.” 

She giggled at that. 

“But it’s a real shame we couldn’t have a gender reveal party and burn down all of Gotham accidentally…” Jason thought aloud. 

Y/N tried to suppress a smile, “…you do realize the point of those parties is to reveal the baby’s gender and not to burn a city down, right?” 

“Well, fuck.” Jason played dumb. “The only appealing part of that was the arson.”

“It would’ve been funny to fuck with people, though.” Y/N’s eyes went distant as she thought about it. “Put in black balloons or just a rainbow assortment. And just see how everyone reacted.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jason sighed. 

“Why are traditions so stupid and embarrassing?”

They both laughed. 

“I’d have to suffer through a stupid baby shower. And then you’d get to come in at the very end and just wave at everyone. Men really got it made, huh? Just show up, and everyone applauds.” 

Jason laughed, knowing she was absolutely right. Enough of the Justice League had kids for him to know that was how it worked. 

“Like those videos where dads do their daughter’s hair and everyone loses their mind and praises him. But name one time a video has gone viral of a mom doing her kid’s hair.”

“The bar’s low,” he reminded Y/N. 

But then Jason watched Y/N’s smile fall from her face as she got lost in her head. 

“What?”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What?” He gripped her chin. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t feel bad. There’s no remorse,” Y/N mumbled with as her eyes zoned out. “All I feel is weight lifted off of me.”

“Hey,” his voice was low and serious. “Hey, look at me.” 

He waited for her to do what he asked. “You’re not a bad person. You hear me?” 

Then he started making himself angry with the thought that anyone would ever tell Y/N otherwise. 

“You know what a bad person looks like? Someone who doesn’t take having a child seriously. Someone who makes that decision half-assed, knowing they’re bringing a child into a toxic environment or that they can’t properly take care of them.”

Jason made himself calm down. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just proves that you did exactly what you knew was best.” 

She nodded, finally convinced by his words. 

Y/N reached forward and brushed some hair off his face. 

Jason was so god damn handsome. No wonder I got pregnant, she thought darkly. This is exactly how she got into this mess. It was hard just to keep her hands off of him. 

“If I ask you something, do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?” 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try my best.”

Her eyes twisted into something somber and afraid. 

“Do you really never want kids?” 

Jason should’ve expected this question at some point. 

Even though Y/N didn’t verbalize it, Jason knew that one of her biggest fear throughout all of this was that it would change their relationship. She was scared that he would resent her, that he would change his mind and beg her to keep it. 

Maybe it was her tone that was really the thing that caught him off guard. She sounded so scared of what he would say. 

Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Not because he wanted to hide the truth by stopping her from staring into his eyes. He just wanted to make sure he collected al of this thoughts. She deserved a proper answer. 

“I never planned on being a father,” the statement was unwavering. “You know how my childhood went. And I see the same thing happening to kids all over Gotham today – some of them have it so much worse than I did.”

Y/N reached forward and placed her palm on his chest, right over his heart. Without thinking, his hand went to grip it. 

“But you would never be like that,” she assured him. “You’re a good man, Jason. I mean, just look at how you are with Damian – no matter how hard you try to hide your soft spot for that boy.”

“I know I can be a good father. Except before you were in my life, I didn’t know that.” 

If he were really tell the truth, he would tell Y/N that without her, there most likely wouldn’t even be a Jason Todd...only Red Hood. 

He looked away from the ceiling and back at her. “But that doesn’t want I want to be.” 

“So you can honestly say that you never want a family? Even if wasn’t with me?” 

“Y/N, look at my family,” Jason laughed. “None of us our related. Bruce is a mess of a father. His biological son was basically artificially inseminated. The butler is more like our grandma who raised us. All of them tried to take me down and imprison me at one point or another...”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness. “The point is that I know more than anyone that family can look like a million different things. And the perfect outline society has forced onto us doesn’t actually mean shit.”

He grinned. “My family is a group of vigilantes who don’t know how to quit.” His eyes softened. “And then there’s you. You’re my family, too. I don’t need add anything else for that to be true.” 

Y/N couldn’t help herself and she practically tackled him into a kiss. 

Jason gripped her waist and twisted them so she was straddling his waist, and his hands traced up and down the side of her ribcage. 

After their lips separate, Y/N looked down at him lovingly. 

She let a moment pass. 

“What if I changed my mind?”

“I think you and I both know you never will.”

“But what if I did?” She insisted. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N just wanted to challenge him. She wanted to go through all the scenarios her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. She needed answers to the hypothetical scenarios that would never come to be. 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she told him certainly. 

“I know, Y/N.”

She kissed him again. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he scoffed. “It’s my fault.” 

And he meant it. Most days, Jason had to convince himself he was worthy of her love. What kind of man would be lucky enough to have Y/N as their girl and not do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way?

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected him seriously. “It was both of us.” 

“You can’t scare me away,” Jason told her. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you. Got it?”

She nodded. 

But before she could say anything more, Jason wrapped her in a heated kiss. 

He knew these questions were her anxiety manifesting itself. And Y/N had enough stress for today. So he’d turned off her mind with his touches. 

She deserved a break. 

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

I don’t know how I managed to write yet another one of these fics. But I realized it was easier to give it a new twist since Jason Todd has a sense of humor and an edge that Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers do not. Also, he wasn’t raised in the 1930s. lol

Please, please, please let me know if you liked it!!!

If anyone is interested in movies on this topic, I highly recommend these:

Never Rarely Sometimes Always 

Unpregnant 

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Obvious Child

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