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helen-with-an-a · 5 months

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First Time Crush pt 3

Hiya. So this is the final part of First Time Crush. It's a little Ellie/R heavy but I hope you like it.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; OC x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Description: R's got some exciting stuff to share with the team

Word Count: 3.5k

Things with Ellie were fantastic. You felt your whole world shifting around her. She was your sun, and you were in orbit.

You had gone on three dates already. The first one was painfully awkward, you thought, anyway.

You were walking out of the stadium alone – thankfully. Everyone was waiting for you to finish your shower and get ready, the promise of Ellie waiting outside making you shake with excited nerves.

You had fretted the night before over what to wear. Every outfit you owned suddenly felt wrong on your body – either it was too tight, and you felt self-conscious, or it was too loose, and you felt stupid. You were nearly in tears as you phoned Ingrid, tugging harshly at your hair and scratching painful lines into your skin as you got overwhelmed.

“Kjæreste?” Ingrid asked, confused as to why you were phoning so late in the day before a match.

“Too much.” You had eventually squeaked out, trying really hard not to let the tears fall. That was all Ingrid needed to hear before she gathered up Mapí and broke several speed laws to get to yours.

They found you sat amongst a pile of clothes, eyes red with suppressed tears and a dejected look on your face.

“Oh, neña.” Mapí had pulled you from the floor, guiding you to your bed as she hugged you tightly. “Respiraciones profundas,” she said, exaggerating her breathing and running a gentle hand through your hair. Ingrid had silently gathered up your clothes, slipping them back onto hangers and into their designated places before sitting on the other side.

“What happened, søtnos?” Ingrid asked as you pulled back a little from Mapí.

“I’m seeing Ellie tomorrow.” You hoped that was all the explanation you needed to give – it was, at least, for Ingrid, but she wanted you to voice your concerns fully. “I was trying to decide what to wear. Everything felt wrong.” Your voice wobbled as you tried to breathe away the rising tears. Mapí’s hand came to grip yours tightly, the action helping to ground you somewhat.

“Ok, cariño…"

You had sat for over an hour with them as they helped ease your fears and craft the perfect yet comfortable outfit for your coffee date with Ellie. And now, you were going on that date. You had hoped the others would leave before you so you could greet Ellie without fanfare, but it seemed like that would not be happening … at least, not as you had hoped. As you slipped your bag on your shoulder, you felt every pair of eyes on you.

“Estas lista para ir?” Jana, Pina, Bruna and Patri stood with mischievous smiles as you turned around to face the changing room.

“Ella irá sola, chicas.” Alexia interrupted before you could speak, smiling as you sent her a grateful smile. You laughed as their protests inadvertently eased your worries, and you slipped out the door.

Ellie looked like an absolute goddess as you sallied up to her. The collar of her blue away kit peeked out from underneath her soft cream sweater—you really hoped it was yours she was wearing.

“Hey, beautiful.” She smiled that dazzling smile that took your breath away. “You played so well today,” she complimented, the praise bringing a rosy hue to your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered. There was an awkward pause; at least, you thought it was awkward (Ellie was taking the time to admire you and hadn’t even realised the gap).

“Are you ready to go?” She wondered. You nodded, eyes staying resolutely on her shoes. “Can I hold your hand?” She asked, not wanting to overstep any boundary you might have. Your brain froze – you barely even realised your enthusiastic nodding – as her warm hand slipped into yours. Her skin was smooth and soft as she intertwined your fingers, pulling you away from the stadium. “So, where do you want to go?” She questioned, inwardly smiling as she watched you panic slightly at her words.

“Um, it’s not too far. Maybe like a 10-minute walk. It’s takeaway only, but I thought I could show you some places?” It was the most words Ellie had ever heard you say in one go. Her heart fluttered at your timid nature, pride swelling in her chest as she thought about you planning the date despite being so unsure.

The date was perfect. She was perfect … but you were an awkward mess. Despite her protests, you had bought her coffee and several pastries before taking her to a small little woodland trail. It wasn’t a big hike … or a hike at all, really, maybe 5 minutes on flat ground, but it wasn’t well-walked and offered you the privacy you wanted for the date. The meadow you took her to was breathtaking; wildflowers filled the green space as you sat. She had, naturally, taken control of most of the conversation, letting you have the space to talk when you wanted. You also had sat in comfortable silence for a time, your hand still firmly in hers as you watched the clouds dance above your heads. You thought you were far too shy and awkward for Ellie to want anything to do with you, but she had surprised you as you ended the date at her front door.

“So, beautiful, care to do this again?” she smirked. Your brain short-circuited, your heartbeat quickened, and another crimson blush spread across your cheeks. You nodded, swallowing down the nerves as you took a deep breath.

“I really enjoyed today,” you confessed, smiling as she squeezed your hand in response.

“So, did I. When’s your next day off?” She lifted her hand to push some of your hair away from your face.

“Um … Monday? But if that’s too soon, then that’s fine too.” You rushed out. It was only Saturday, after all.

“Monday sounds good,” she smiled her earth-shattering smile again. “I have a lecture in the morning, but I can meet you for lunch. I’m free all afternoon. Maybe you could come round here, and I could cook, and we could just hang out?”

“That sounds really nice.” You smiled at her, finally meeting her eyes.

“Perfect,” she giggled – her voice sounding like it was handcrafted by angels. “I’ll text you.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to your cheek before turning around and unlocking her front door, allowing you a moment to try to collect yourself. “Bye, beautiful.” She waved, her fingers fluttering gently as she closed her door.

The second date went just as well. She was so perfect. You were … less awkward than you were before.

Ellie: How do you say my beautiful girl in Spanish? x

Beautiful: mi niña hermosa

Beautiful: why?

Ellie has changed your contact to Mi Niña Hermosa

Mi Niña Hermosa: oh

Ellie: :)

You have changed Ellie’s contact to Mi Diosa

Mi Diosa: what does that mean? x

Mi Niña Hermosa is typing …

Mi Diosa: what does that mean ????

Mi Niña Hermosa: :)

You arrived at her flat exactly on time… well, actually, you were 15 minutes early, but you had walked to the small flower shop on the way and picked a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. You were then only 3 minutes early, but you waited on a low wall near her building for the right time to ring the buzzer.

“Hey, beautiful.” Her voice sounded so perfect even through the bad intercom.

“Hi, mi diosa.” You tested it out, your heart beating nervously as you did. You took some solace in her not knowing what it meant. The door beeped, and the lock clicked, signalling it was open. The walk up was familiar (you had done it only two days prior) yet foreign. It seemed like a nice enough place – clean, friendly, and, most importantly, safe. You don’t know why you liked the thought of Ellie living in a lovely, dirt-free, safe flat, but it eased your nerves slightly. You knocked on the door, gripping the flowers. The door was wrenched open, and Ellie appeared in front of you. She looked even more gorgeous than the first time.

“Oh my gosh, they’re stunning. Beautiful, you shouldn’t have.” She said as you presented them to her.

“Not as stunning as you.” You weren’t a flirter, but it felt natural to say, so you said it. The all-consuming nerves that had been present at your first weren’t as harsh; instead, a pleasant fluttering stirred in your stomach. If you had been watching Ellie, you would have seen the shy smile and rosy tint rising on her cheeks. Instead, you were looking around her flat. She had lots of pictures of friends and family around, some decorative artwork on the walls, and soft blankets piled neatly on the sofa.

“C’mon. I didn’t know what you could eat with your diet and whatnot, so I’ve made fancy sandwiches.” She put her hand on your waist, the patch of bare skin where your top had ridden up, blazing with heat when her hand touched.

You had spent all afternoon with Ellie. It started with her carrying the conversation, like every interaction you had so far, but as time went on and the shadows lengthened, you were becoming more open – although you were still oblivious to your flirtiness (everything that you wanted to said, you had, not quite realising how teasing it sounded). You were becoming more like yourself – your intelligence shone through, and your kindness and gentle nature made Ellie fall even harder for you.

Eventually, you had left the sanctuary of Ellie’s flat long after nightfall but not too late as you had an early morning training session, and you were mindful of her schedule.

“Bye, beautiful.” Ellie had said, much like she did on Saturday.

“Bye, mi Diosa.” You replied, your eyes dancing over her features. She stepped forward, one hand holding the door, one hand resting on your arm, and she pressed a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth. Almost all the calmness you felt that afternoon disappeared as you struggled to breathe. Did she mean to kiss you there? Was it a misplaced kiss on the cheek? Did she want to kiss you properly? You blinked owlishly at her, a subtle smile gracing your features.

“I miss you already.” She blew you a final kiss as she shut the door, leaving you to your thoughts as you tried to calm yourself.

Mi Diosa: is it too soon to ask you out again?

Mi Niña Hermosa: I finish at 5 tomorrow – I could cook for you?

Mi Niña Hermosa: It’s a match day on Wednesday tho so it will have to be fairly healthy

You have sent a maps link. Click here to open it: https://www....

Mi Diosa: Sounds perfect I’ll be there at 6? x

You had been … odd … at training. That was the only way the team could describe you. You were happy enough, so they weren’t questioning it too much. But you seemed different.

“Pequeña, estás bien?” Alexia had asked, concerned over your behaviour.

“Hmm? Oh, yeh.” You smiled at her. She nodded, but her expression wasn’t convinced. You were training well, better than you had been all season, to be honest. It was hard to put a finger on. Ingrid had tried next, sitting next to your cubby in the changing room as you swapped your boots for your trainers.

“Is everything alright, Kjæreste?”

“Huh?” You were distracted again, mentally running over the checklist for tonight for the thousandth time. “Yeh, I’m good,” you dismissed, smiling at her—her expression similar to Alexia’s.

Throughout the day, everyone had come up to you, even Vicky, asking if you were ok and reminding you that if you needed to talk, you could do it. It wasn’t until you had rushed out of the changing rooms bang on 5pm that they could talk freely.

“Ella es rara, verdad?” Patri asked as soon as the door swung shut. There were many hums of agreement as they wondered what it could be.

“Maybe it’s something to do with that girl she had a crush on?” Lucy pondered.

“Ha dicho cómo fue su cita?” Pina asked, looking around at the shaking heads.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Keira suggested

“O tal vez se estrelló y se quemó,” Martina added pessimistically. The room went silent.

“Bueno, independientemente de lo que pasó, tenemos que dejarla venir a nosotros. Lo hará cuando esté lista.” Alexia said with finality, putting the situation to rest, at least for the moment.

You had just finished getting ready when the doorbell rang. 6 pm on the dot … you liked a punctual girl.

“Hola, hermosa,” Ellie laughed as you stumbled to get the door open.

“Hola, mi Diosa. Cómo estás?” She looked a little lost for a moment before answering. “Estoy bien, y tu?” Her words were a little staccato but very well-pronounced.

“Muy bien, mi Diosa.” You smiled at her smile. “Por favor, entra” You stepped back to let her in. It was clear she didn’t understand what your phrase meant but understood the sentiment all the same. Only when she walked past did you realise she also had a small bouquet of rainbow flowers, the plastic wrapping crinkling as she moved. “I thought we could cook something together. It is only chicken, veg and pasta, but it’s nice.” You explained, looking at the various produce on the side.

“That sounds fantastic.”

Much like the day before, you chatted the evening away. You laughed over your meal; you sat too close to her on the sofa as you continued giggling at the stories you shared. Eventually, she got fed up with her skin lightly brushing yours and lifted herself up and onto your lap.

You froze, suddenly nervous again at her closeness. She froze, thinking she may have pushed this too far. She loved how open you were becoming with her; your behaviour was closer to what she saw when you were on the pitch during warmups and after the matches. Had she just ruined this?

“Is this … ok?” she whispered to you. You gulped, taking in the sweet scent of her perfume before nodded, letting a shy smile spread across your lips. “Good,” she said, taking your fingers in her hand and fiddling with them as she continued her story.

You wanted it to last longer, but you had a midweek match, so you needed an earlier night.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed as you walked her to your door.

“It’s ok,” she reassured you again.

“Will I … are you... areyougoingtothegame?” you rushed out. She raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” you asked slower this time, unable to meet her eyes. She lifted her finger, pulling your face up to meet her gaze.

“Of course I am.” She smiled softly. “I’m a season ticket holder, I’ll have you know,” she said smugly.

“You are?”

“Yes, I am. And I’ve never missed a home game. Not one this whole season.” She puffed her chest out with pride.

“A true culer, then.” You teased. “Next year, you won’t need a season ticket,” you promised, your eyes flicking down to her lips.

“And why’s that?” she asked, hoping you were hinting at what she wanted you to imply.

“If we give the club enough notice, we get 2 free tickets per home game,” you explained. “Front row … box and pitch access if you want it.” Your eyes flicked back up to meet hers.

“Is this your way of asking me to watch your games, specifically to support you, not Barça Femeni as a whole?” She quirked her eyebrow up in question, her gaze drifting to your lips. The air between you grew heavy, and she pushed herself up to meet your height. “Can I …”

“Please.” You cut her off. Her hands locked into your hair; your fingers drifted along her waist. She tasted like heaven. That was all you could think as she kissed you. First, it was just a quick peck, but then she drew herself back, deepening it as she pressed herself into your body.

“Woah,” she gasped when you eventually parted.

“Now, I really don’t want you to go.” You whined, equally as out of breath.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the match? I’ll wear your England jersey so you can spot me easier.” You smiled at her words.

“I think I’m starting, so I might not be able to come over until after.”

“That’s ok. As long as you come over at some point.” She smiled her warm, soft smile at you.

“Maybe I could introduce you properly to the girls? As my girlfriend?” you asked shyly, unwilling to meet her eye. She waited, hoping you would look at her – you were still tightly pushed together, her arms around your neck, yours gently resting on her waist.

“Look at me, please,” she asked softly. You did, automatically calming down when your gazes met. "I would love to officially meet my girlfriend’s friends.” Your glittering smile nearly knocked her off her feet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful,” she murmured, pressing a final kiss to your lips as she extricated herself from your embrace.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, mi diosa”

“I still don’t know what that means.” She pouted.

“Don’t worry, I know someone more than willing to teach you Spanish.”

Mi Diosa: Goodnight, beautiful

Mi Niña Hermosa: Goodnight, mi novia bonita

You changed Mi diosa’s contact to Mi Novia Bonita

Mi Novia Bonita: stop saying stuff when I don’t know what it means !!!

Mi Niña Hermosa: :)

You played the best game of your life. Your technique was flawless. Your skills were unmatched. You had your name on the score sheet 4 times, along with 3 assists. It was a textbook match for you. You were on fire.

“What has happened to you?” Lucy asked, confused as to the changes in you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, buzzing with energy as you clapped the fans. You came to a stop in front of a very familiar white jersey. You abandoned Lucy, coming to standing in between Alexia and Ingrid.

“Mira quien ha venido a verte.” Alexia nudged you gently, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Do you want to go say hi?” Ingrid asked, putting a hand on the middle of your back, ready to give a push if you denied.

“Maybe later,” you sighed as you made eye contact with Ellie. You blushed a little at the wink she threw your way. They mistook it as you getting shy over your crush’s attention being on you.

“Nawww,” Alexia cooed. “Te estás poniendo tímida debido a tu enamoramiento?” She teased lightly, pinching your bright red cheek. This was it, the perfect timing.

“Is it still a crush if she’s your girlfriend?” You asked, smirking at the two of them before running away into the crowd.

You and Ellie watched at the chaos you caused amongst the players. She had pulled on her home kit, which she had slipped into her bag before she left. She wanted to stand out for you on the pitch, but she knew that being in a stark white top might not be the best thing if she needed to hide from the wrath of some players. You sat further back in the stadium, laughing as Alexia made the rounds, clearly informing people of what you had so casually announced. You could imagine what each one was saying. You acted it out for Ellie, mimicking the disbelieving voices of Patri and Pina, the shocked ones of Irene and Paños. Your favourite person to mock was Mapí – she stood, mouth open, arms by her side as Ingrid told her the news. You don’t think you’d ever seen her speechless before.

“C’mon, we best get going.” You said, standing up and offering her your hand.

“We?” She asked, shocked.

“I’m not dropping that bomb on them, then hiding for 20 minutes and then returning alone.” You explained, thinking your reasoning was obvious.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going in there after you said that, then ran away for 20 minutes.” She looked at you, mouth open and eyes wide. “They’ll eat me alive.”

“Nonsense. If anything, they’ll be happy I finally asked the hermoso desconocido to be my hermosa novia.” You smirked, extending your hand again and wiggling your eyebrows.

“I still don’t know what you said,” Ellie grumbled, taking your hand.

“Don’t worry, mi diosa. We have plenty of time for me to teach you.”

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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tac-the-unseen · 4 months

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Hey how are you doing 👋🏽

I have a request, can you do a Thomas Hewitt x pregnant reader, just pure fluff

I bet that man would be a good father idk

Thomas Hewitt x pregnant Reader Headcannons

@diablosinners

CW: Pregnancy Difficulties, Child birth, Minor misogyny, extremely minor mention of Abortion (Like it's not said but implied)

Minor Angst and Fluff (It gets better I promise)

•When you found out about your pregnancy the first person you told wasn't Tommy, it was Luda Mae

•You told Luda the news and she was delighted

•You were panicked

•Not only was this your first baby, it was an unplanned one

•Your family has a history of trouble-some pregnancies and with the nearest hospital being hours away, this possibilities really frighten you

•Luda had to calm you down and stop you from almost stress vomiting on yourself

•She sat with you as you sobbed and tried to collect yourself enough to make some kind of plan

•You talked about your options and while she was trying to sway to one way, she said it was ultimately your choice

•You both decided to wait two weeks before telling anybody

•You didn't want to get anyone's hopes up just in case something happened to you or the new-comer growing inside of you

•after the two weeks have passed you waited for Thomas to get done working for the night so you can tell him

•When he walked through the door to see you sitting in a rocking chair he was slightly confused

•Normally you're upstairs or in the kitchen

•He wasn't worried it was simply just out of the ordinary

•You got up and guided him up the stairs and into your shared bedroom

•You sit him down and slowly introduce the topic into the conversation before making your rehearsed announcement

•He was silent for a few seconds, just long enough to let your panic sleep into your bones

•A cool chill runs through you and you begin to back petal

•You tell him how long you knew and all the options you have

•You’re quickly to ramble on about how you don't need to have right this minute and you could wait for later down if that's what Thomas needed

•Thomas listens to your quickly and panicked speech for a little bit before gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards him

•He leans over and softly kisses your forehead

•He runs a hand down to your stomach and gently rubs the side

•His one gentle kiss turned into multiple fast pecks all over your face.

•He was excited

•It took him just hours to already make plans for what he wanted to do with his future child

•He was comforting you at every turn and freaked out Everytime you bumped into a countertop or a wall.

•Thomas practically stood over you all day everyday

•He wants to always have you in his sights, for his peace of mind and yours

•He brings you drawings of what crib, rocking chairs, and wood carved mobile he wants to hang over the crib

•He lets you watch and values your opinion over everyone else. When asked by other family members why, Thomas points to you as if to say ‘They’re the pregnant one.’

•When you started to show he would occasionally gently lift your belly to relieve you of the weight the baby puts on your back.

•He never really liked leaving the house and normally left that up to his brothers, but he wanted to help with the baby shopping

•he gently holds out baby blankets he thinks you'll like, but keeps in mind that Luda-Mae has be fiercely crocheting baby blankets and sewing baby clothes

•He actually cries when you hold up the little baby booties and compares them to his huge palm.

•He carries all the bags to your car and lets you drive him home with the yellow booties still in his hands.

•You fought hard to let the other Hewitts know you were giving birth in an actual hospital

•Everytime the birth was brought up it turned into a huge argument. “Every Hewitt was born in this house and they will continue to be born in this house!” Charlie and Monty argued

•You kept bring up your side of the family's history and how you're not willing to die and leave the baby with a house full of psychos no matter how much they tried to deter you

•When you eventually went into labor Luda was quickly to Hussle you and Tommy into the car

•Both of them respected your wishes and understood your concerns and allow you to give birth in the hospital a two hours away

•By the time you got there you were 8 cm dilated and every nurse was scrambling to get you a room and a doctor to deliver your baby safely

•It was bloody, tiring, and the most pain you've ever been in but by the time the baby was out you passed out

•They rushed to stitch you up and stop you from hemorrhaging and had to use their hands to assist you delivering the placenta

•When all's said and done your baby was safely in your arms

•Luda brought a camera to take birthing pictures and Thomas was clutching all the baby blankets

•Thomas was terrified by your body seemingly giving out and when informed you easily could have died, He was relieved he actually listened to you and not his noodle brained brothers

•while it was great to have your baby in your arms, you were in desperate need of sleep, so the baby was pawned off to Luda so she could help Thomas hold his new-born for the first time

•That moment was magical for him, and even though his mind was already made up, he knew he would die for this child if it ever came to that

•Luda left the room briefly to use the bathroom and That left Tommy with the smallest human being he's ever seen wrapped up in the hospital’s white with pink and blue striped blanket.

•The quiet of the room was what made him sob

•His sleeping partner and sleeping child all together as a family was enough to break him

•The car ride home a few days later was also silent

•He sat in the back seat with the baby's car seat watching as the hum and the vibrations of the car lull the child asleep

•He did leave that baby’s side for a second

•He was there when the baby cried, when the baby slept, when the baby needed a diaper change, he was there for every moment

•Until His brothers bitched at him to start working again

•Thomas, while wanting to stay with you and the baby, did understand he was the muscle of the house and he had work to do to maintain it

•He worked as fast as he could so he could be with you two again

•You had secretly been teaching your baby to say Dada because you know how hard Thomas is working and how dedicated he is to his family.

•When the child did say their first words ‘Dada’ Thomas actually ran around the living room as a victory lap.

•All that made better by your Child giggling

•Thomas has made toys out of bones, yes they are properly cleaned, he doesn't want to get his baby sick

•Nobody but You, Thomas, And Luda are allowed to hold the baby, He knows how harsh and clumsy his Brothers are and refuses to let them touch the baby

•Thomas isn't normal one to argue with his family but he made a vow to protect you and his children and by God he will kill Monty if it comes to it

•It really won't, But now Monty and Charlie know his serious

Thanks for reading <3

I wrote this fic with a little angst because I feel like every Leatherface x Reader is pregnancy related. I didn't want to re-write what many before me have written so I added minor Angst to at least make it different/Stand out.

Also I'm just not a huge fan of Pregnancy fics in general. Kinda gives me the ick, but I'm not one to disappoint someone who wanted my take of a fic!

#slashers #thomas hewitt #Thomas Hewitt x Reader #x reader #reader #pregnancy fic #texas chainsaw massacre #Leatherface #leatherface x reader #Luda-Mae Hewitt #Monty Hewitt #charlie hewitt #Hewitt family #fluff and angst #hurt/comfort

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weirdmorefics · 3 months

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Could you pls do a fake dating fic with Colin bridgerton? Tysm xx

A Life Long Scheme

A/N- Sorry for the delay! I really do have the fanfiction writer curse! I say that every time but I mean it! I got my appendix out and rode in an ambulance. They don't even play music in them FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 2,512

Summary- You convince Colin to fake court you to gain the attention of other suitors but jealousy consumes Colin.

I knew I would have a hard time finding a suitor from a young age. My family may be wealthy enough to attend balls but certainly not enough for a sizable dowry for each of their children. I grew up competitive trying to prove myself worthy even if I came with a small dowry. My siblings relied on their looks but I was determined to be the best at everything. I will treat coming out like I do life competitively. As the eldest, I must set an example.

I was lined up with the others coming out into society this year. They all nervously played with their clothes and looked to the floor. I too felt like doing that but I kept my emotions bottled tightly in my chest and held my head high. We all took our turns bowing in front of the Queen she looked completely unbothered by us, dare I say bored.

I was last in line she looked me up and down and said, "I am unsure if anyone qualifies as a diamond this season."

I can't fight back the sharp inhale I take, I can physically feel my heart launch its way into my throat. I feel as if I may hurl as she gets up and walks away escorted by her guards. I look around at others visible shock. I can't help but feel the Queen just left because of me. I mean I was the last one. I need to do something! I can't fail already I just came out into society!

My night was filled with pacing and plotting. There has to be a way to impress Her Majesty. My Mama tried to comfort me but Father quickly told her there was no point in speaking to me when I was like this. I hate to admit but he is unfortunately correct. Once I am in a thought spiral there is no getting out. I thought of other seasons for most of the night as I lay in bed. What did they do to gain the Queen's attention? The most notable season of late would have to be Daphne's. I can't recall the last time The Ton has seen a marriage done with such haste before. She had a massive amount of suitors after her though that was only after The Duke's appearance.

The idea hit me suddenly I launched out of bed, put my carpet slippers on, and ran out of the house. I am lucky my family sleeps so soundly because I am sure I sounded like a horse trotting as I ran through the house. The Bridgerton manor is right next to ours, so close in fact that I grew up playing games with all the Bridgertons. Colin has always been my dearest friend (even though Mama always told me a male friend was improper). I knew Colin would go along with my plan, we have been scheming and pranking since we were children. This should be no different! It unfortunately hit me how late it was when I stood in the darkness of the Bridgerton Garden. I was here now I refused to backtrack just because it was an untimely hour.

I used the bushes to help guide me to Colin's familiar window. Once there I gathered tiny pebbles and started ricocheting them off his window. It did not take him long to wake and open the window with a messy bedhead and a lit lantern. His face instantly flushes at the sight of me.

"My god Y/n what are you doing out here in this state!" He shouts

I follow his gaze to my clothes and feel my face heat. My god, I did not think this through as I stood in front of Colin Bridgerton's window in the dark, in my silk nightgown. I will see this through the damage is done. "I have a plan," I smile.

He sighs and rubs his forehead, "Oh no… you are lucky my sleeping schedule is still askew from traveling abroad. Now get inside before someone sees you!"

I met him in the drawing room and he refused to look me in the eye, "So what is so important that you have decided to grace the house with your presence at this ungodly hour."

"I am here to present you with a proposition," I clasp my hands as he finally looks at my face suspiciously.

"And what might this proposition be? I can assume nothing good," he questions.

I roll my eyes and pace as I recite my plan."As you know Daphne was utterly suitorless during her season courtesy of Anthony. However, the moment a Duke entered the picture she had men competing for hand. They could not care less about Anthony's interventions."

Colin nodded confused, "Your point?"

"My point is I need competition! So I propose that you pretend to court me! If you will? I know you are aware of my Papa's financial situation… I mean the whole ton is after Lady Whistledown published his unfortunate business decisions and his one-too-many daughters for a dowry. None of this will matter if I can get a suitor who loves me and will help my family but that can't be done if I can't attract a suitor!" I continue to pace as Colin looks entirely unsure of what to make of this situation. I take a deep breath, "So what do you say?"

Colin looks at me with puppy dog eyes, "Of course Y/n. You are my dearest friend. I must know why you decided to discuss this so late at night in your…" he flushes again and looks to the ground. "In your nightgown."

I suddenly became all too aware of my attire and became a stuttering mess, "the conversation was of utmost importance the time of day and clothing choices have nothing to do with it!"

Colin smirks, "I see."

"I must save my Papa's business if not for him but for the chance my sisters will get to marry for true love and not for financial gain," I sigh. Colin's eyes which were once teasing turn to sadness, "Do not look at me like that Colin. I don't need your pity, I need your help."

He nods and straightens his posture, "Of course Y/n. Of course, I will help."

I quietly snuck back into the house after speaking to Colin. The plan was set in stone he would be the first dance on my dance card and we would round up potential suitors together. We were joined at the hip for every event and I purposely chose the busiest times to promenade so the most amount of suitors would see us.

I soon began to gain the attention of many suitors and even had many coming to my house to call on me! Mama was so proud I was so happy to take her mind off the situation with Papa.

Mama pulled me to the side of the drawing room, "Maybe hanging out with the Bridgerton boy will help you! Maybe their fortune will rub off on us!" I was proud to inform her I was to promenade in the park today with Colin. It was odd to see her smile with excitement instead of pale at the thought of her daughter spending her time with a man who never planned to court her. I wish she wasn't only proud of me when I wasn't doing something that benefited me in finding a wealthy suitor. It's no matter though, I will do anything to make her proud, and it feels like I'm finally doing it. She spent the whole morning with me to find a suitable dress for my outing.

Colin arrived promptly at the time we set previously and accompanied me to the park. As we promenaded I felt many eyes on us they truly believed Colin would court the daughter of a family barely escaping financial ruin. It is truly almost humorous how easily we have swayed the ton.

"It is truly working Colin! Mother is so proud that I will be the one to save my family's reputation. Such a shame she picked such a layered gown for one of the warmest days of the season," I whisper and fiddle with the seams of my dress.

Colin sighs, "How many suitors are you getting from this Y/n? They can't all have honorable intentions given your beauty and your family's standing."

I roll my eyes, " Why Colin Bridgerton are you jealous? I would not think you are the type. Do not worry you will always be my dearest friend. No husband could replace you."

His face turns serious, "I am just worried. I hope you are doing this for the right reasons and not for the sake of your Mama… and I am most certainly not jealous."

For someone who said he is certainly not jealous he didn't sound quite certain. That, however, is not what distracted me. "You think I want to marry a man not for love but purely for financial gain? It is every woman's dream to marry for love! We can't all have the privilege to do so! Especially one born into a family with a gambling addict for a father and a mother too frail to defend herself. My mother has been preparing me for coming out since I was a child! This is my job as the eldest! To secure a good future for my siblings so perhaps they get the opportunity to marry for love as I will never get to!" I back up as if I may burn from Colin's shocking gaze but I still point a finger at him, "And the fact that you don't already know this Bridgerton is having me question if we ever truly were friends! Perhaps all those travel stories in your head leave not much room for anything else."

I storm away from the Bridgerton, I think after his initial shock he calls for me but my rage prevents me from looking back to see if it was true or a cruel trick of my ears. It was perhaps not the greatest idea to run off from a suitor with no chaperone. Maybe I wouldn't have found myself in such a precarious situation if I had chaperone. I find myself cursing my father in my head for his terrible gambling habits that prevent anyone from wanting to associate with the likes of us. Therefore getting me into this mess in the first place.

"Y/N L/N, we have been watching you for quite some time. Your father never described your intense beauty but how could one put it into words?" The seedy man approached me.

I smiled politely, "Thank you! May I inquire how you know my father?"

"Oh darling I think you know why we are here. I mean the whole ton knows about your father's habits shall we say." He smiles menaceingly and I think to myself of course this has to do with his damn gambling habits.

I back up in case I have to make a quick escape and he unfortunately catches on. He grabs my wrist to keep me in place, "We have been very patient with your father. Given his position in the ton, we thought we could be lenient with his payment schedule. However, it turns out we were mistaken. What is more shocking is the fact that his daughter thinks she has a chance of finding a suitor with no dowry."

"Sir please unhand me," I try to pull away from his grasp.

"You think being in the company of the Bridgertons will help your family situation? Perhaps we could take you as payment? You do draw a lot of attention despite your social ruin. We could use you to bring more men to the establishment," he smiles sinisterly.

I yank my hand away even harder out of fear but his strength still outmatches mine, "Why would I ever help you put more families in financial ruin!"

He laughs, "Darling you think you have a choice?"

His eyes narrow at something behind me and I hear Colin's voice, "I believe the lady asked you to unhand her."

"This does not involve you, sir," he growled.

"You see it is my business when you have your hands on my betrothed, Colin growls back.

My eyes furrowed in confusion. He had been fake courting me of course but we certainly did not discuss a fake betrothal.

The man laughs yet again, "I read in Lady Whistledown that you were courting her but the fact a Bridgerton would sink to the likes of the L/N family."

I took in a shallow breath and Colin growled in response. This situation was going quickly downhill.

"You will not besmirch the lady's name! Now I won't ask again unhand her!" Colin shouts.

"Whatever you say," he smirks and tosses me to the ground. Colin's grimace seems to only encourage the man more, "I'd honestly prefer to use her to replace her father's debt but if you want to drag your family name down with her so be it." He walks away with a peppy jaunt in his step and I glare at him from the ground.

Colin quickly helps me to my feet, "I would have dueled him right here and now if I was not in the presence of a lady."

I brush the dirt off my gown, "It's fine. I'm fine. I will handle it."

"No, you will not! you will not take a step towards that insipid man," he yells.

"Well, Colin you don't really have any choice in that matter! Do you? You are just fake courting me. Or fake betrothing me now? I don't know. I have lost track honestly!" I rant.

His face turns serious, "Y/n I care for you! I would forsake my whole family name for you! You think I do not burn with rage every time I see a new man attempt to call on you after I started court you! I noticed your beauty and your smarts before any of these men did! The fact that they only noticed you once another gentleman entered the picture is disgraceful! I will always notice you Y/n! I will never let your family go through this! I hope to be a love match for you and help your family."

Tears collect in my eyes. As the oldest sibling I've never been the one that was cared for but the one that does the caring. Colin's words made me feel full. I try to tease but it comes more out as a sob, "Mr. Bridgerton are you proposing to me."

He smiles, "I think it is about time I finally proposed to you after you always proposed your schemes to me. So what do you say Ms. L/N? Would you like to continue proposing schemes to me for the rest of our lives?"

I nod aggressively smiling. There was no stopping the happy tears now.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton request #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton imagine

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awkward-walking-potato · 1 month

Note

Hi, can I ask something with Logan where the reader is upset with themselves because everything they do or say, even in good fate, turns out wrong or the situation gets worse. Logan knows that they meant well so he tries his best to comfort them.

I hope I've made myself clear, English is not my first language.

Feel free to ignore this ask if you don't like this idea, but thank you if you write it💕

The day had gone from bad to worse. It seemed like every time you tried to help, things just spiraled further out of control. It started with the morning’s training session, where you’d suggested a different approach to help one of the newer students with their powers. You meant well, but the suggestion backfired, and the student’s confidence took a hit instead of improving.

Then, during lunch, you offered to help Jean in the kitchen, thinking it would lighten her load. But somehow, your attempt to help ended with the oven catching fire—something you didn’t even know was possible with an oven that barely required turning on. By the time you’d managed to get everything under control, Jean had reassured you that it was fine, but you still felt awful.

As the day wore on, your missteps piled up. A few misspoken words caused tension between two friends, a forgotten task led to a delay in the day’s lesson plan, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling utterly defeated.

You tried to retreat to your room, hoping to avoid any further disasters, but it seemed like fate wasn’t quite done with you yet. You nearly collided with Logan in the hallway, the last person you wanted to see when you were feeling this low.

“Whoa, easy there,” Logan said, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. He took one look at your face and frowned. “You alright?”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. The day’s events played over and over in your mind, each one a reminder of how badly you’d messed up. You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and they spilled over before you could stop them.

“I just… I keep messing everything up,” you managed to say, your voice thick with frustration and self-reproach. “All I wanted to do was help, but I keep making things worse. It’s like everything I touch turns to disaster.”

Logan’s frown deepened, but there was no anger or disappointment in his eyes—only concern. “Come on,” he said gently, guiding you toward the nearby lounge. “Let’s sit down for a minute.”

You let him lead you to the worn leather couch, sinking into the cushions with a heavy sigh. Logan took a seat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Start from the beginning,” he said, his tone calm and steady. “What happened?”

You recounted the events of the day, each mistake feeling like a fresh wound as you spoke. Logan listened quietly, his expression unreadable, but his presence alone was enough to keep you from breaking down completely.

When you finished, you wiped at your eyes, feeling drained and embarrassed. “See? I just make everything worse. Maybe I should stop trying so hard…”

Logan was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the floor as if deep in thought. Then, he turned to look at you, his expression softening in a way that was rare for him.

“Listen,” he began, his voice gruff but laced with a kind of rough warmth. “You didn’t mean for any of that to happen. You were just tryin’ to help, right?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying again. “But I still messed everything up.”

“Yeah, well, stuff happens. Even when you’re doin’ your best. But that doesn’t mean you’re a screw-up.” Logan leaned back, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Hell, I’ve messed up plenty of times myself. Done things that went sideways even when I thought I was doin’ the right thing. But that doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means you’re human.”

“But everyone else…” you started to say, but Logan cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“Everyone else knows you meant well. You think Jean’s mad about the oven? She knows you were just tryin’ to help. And the student you were helpin’? They’ll bounce back. You’ll get another shot to help ‘em out.”

You sniffled, trying to process his words. “But what if I keep messing up?”

Logan let out a low chuckle, surprising you. “Then you keep trying. You learn from it and try again. No one here expects you to be perfect—not even me.”

The sincerity in his voice touched you in a way you hadn’t expected. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comforting words easily, but when he did, they hit home.

“You got a good heart, and that counts for somethin’,” Logan continued, his gaze locking onto yours. “You care about people, and you wanna do right by them. That’s more important than getting everything perfect. So stop beatin’ yourself up over this.”

You managed a small smile, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a bit. “Thanks, Logan. I needed to hear that.”

He nodded, as if it was no big deal. But the way he was looking at you, with that rare mix of understanding and reassurance, told you that he meant every word.

“Now, how about we get outta here for a bit? You’ve had a rough day. Maybe we can go for a walk, clear your head.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of getting some fresh air—and spending a bit more time with Logan—was too appealing to pass up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As you stood up, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doin’ fine, you know that? Don’t let one bad day make you think otherwise.”

With Logan by your side, you felt a newfound sense of determination. Maybe you wouldn’t get everything right all the time, but that didn’t mean you weren’t making a difference. And as long as you had people like Logan around to remind you of that, you knew you’d be okay.

#marvel imagine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine one shot #x men imagine

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chxrrysangel · 1 year

Text

What Best Friends Do

Pairing | perv!eddie x best friend!reader

Warnings | MDNI 18+, porn with plot, Eddie is a such a perv(only for reader tho, he has some morals), he stares A LOT, meddling friends, guided masturbation (f), cumming together, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants, Eddie basically has an innocence kink

Words | 1,895

Summary | Forced to be gentlemanly with pussy on his mind, Eddie spends the night with his best friend for “the sake of safety”. A best friend with the shortest skirt and cutest pout he’s ever seen. Can he keep it together?

Technically Part Two

Eddie didn’t think this through. At all.

When Steve suggested taking everyone home in one trip, a resounding yes erupted from the group. The only problem was that there weren’t enough seats. Neither of you thought it was a massive deal at the time, it was only a 30-minute car ride. That was roughly 5 Metallica songs, 3 random brought-up topics between the 6 of you, and maybe 10 stoplights throughout Hawkins.

Everyone piled into the car as Robin called shotgun, while Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie took the backseat. Hand in yours, your best friend helped you onto his lap for a less-than-comfortable ride home. But you would survive, it was just Eddie after all. The second your ass met his front, he regretted the entire thing. Every single pothole or speed bump pressed your body closer to his, and it was hell.

Eddie prayed to every god he could think of, hoping that Ozzy and Kirk could hear his pleas somehow. He tried to think of anything to stop his dick from pressing farther into your ass, but not even the image of his nana naked could make the smell of your perfume turn him on less. You could feel him, he was sure of it. And you were too innocent to not realize that every time you rubbed up against him made it worse. A particular “break test”, as Steve liked to call them, had Eddie’s arm wrapping around your waist, pushing your bodies so close together he had to bite his tongue to swallow his moans. If he was any more pathetic, he might’ve cum in his jeans.

So he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heartbeat of your pussy against his crotch. Someone must’ve answered his prayers, because the next thing he knew Steve was triple honking to signal a house stop. Luckily enough, it was yours. Eddie braced your body as the car door opened, stopping you from falling. You thanked him, no matter how many times he said it was no trouble. Before anyone could say their goodbyes, Steve perked up to share an idea.

“Are your parents home?”

You told him no, and that they wouldn’t be back until much later in the night.

“Munson, haul ass and stay with 'em.”

The two boys made eye contact in Steve’s dashboard mirror, a silent war that you couldn’t decipher. Eddie turned towards the others to beg for help, all feigning innocence and ignoring his silent plea. Right now he was rock hard, and Steve was ruining his chance to go home and jerk off until he got friction burn. But then he turned to see your patient gaze as you waited for their decision, and just melted.

Fuck.

Sighing, Eddie climbed out of the car in defeat. He waited until you began walking to your front door to scold the rest of the car.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he angry-whispered.

“I don't know what you’re talking about Munson. Have fun though.” With that, Steve winked at the metalhead and drove off into the night.

He’s gonna regret this and he knows it.

“Eddie, you comin’ ?”

“Um, yeah. Sorry.”

~~~

Eddie’s eyes began to unfocus, his head pounding as he took in the sight before him. There was something so… enticing about how little you understood the effect you had on him; on people in general. You didn’t think it was a huge deal, walking around your room in just a robe. But to Eddie, it was a massive deal. The thoughts he had earlier were coming back in full force and he had no way to escape them. There was only a single layer of material separating your naked body from the outside world and it drove him insane. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how short it was, making it so that just the right bend of your knees would him the perfect view of your pussy.

Eddie didn’t really believe in God, but now he was reconsidering it. He knew it was bad to think of you like this, especially someone like you, but he couldn’t help it. If anything, your lack of experience or knowledge made him hornier. The pillow covering his crotch didn’t help much either, the dense material providing friction with every movement of his hips.

“Eddie?” Your voice pulled him back to attention, focusing on you but not staring. Or at least trying not to stare.

“Yes baby?” You blushed at the nickname, never truly getting over his terms of endearment for you.

“I have a question.” He can tell by your tone that you’re nervous, and god it’s so cute. You bite on your lips as you think of what to say next, and all he can think about is that pretty little mouth sucking on his tip.

“Shoot.” You took a deep breath, trying to find the courage somewhere to say what you need to.

“Earlier in the car, I uh– I felt something.” Eddie fought off the urge to grin, the possibilities of what you said next giving him a depraved kind of rush.

“What did you feel sweetheart?” He pressed the pillow further into himself, grinding his hips ever so slightly for relief.

“Something hard. And…it felt good. I um…liked you pressed up against me. I felt tingly.” Eddie sat up straighter at your confession.

He could cum right now off your words alone.

“Yeah?” You nodded in response, averting your eyes as your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Do you wanna feel that again?” Eddie wanted to tear the pathetic robe off and fuck you over the nearest surface, but he knew he had to be patient and gentle.

“Yes.”

“Come here, baby. Come to Eddie.”

The bed dipped as you climbed over to him, your robe loosening just a little bit which he took notice of. Eddie removed the pillow, giving you a full view of the rock-hard erection he’d been hiding. A gasp fell from your lips, a hesitant hand reaching out before you thought better of it.

“You can touch if you want. I don’t mind.” You debated over it for a few seconds before reaching for his crotch. Your fingers brushed lightly against the tip, the friction making Eddie hiss in pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, don’t apologize. Didn’t hurt at all. It was the exact opposite. ” His voice was so gentle, like nothing you’ve ever heard from him before. It encouraged you to put your hand back where it was, rubbing softly to see how he reacted. You had no idea what you were doing, which made Eddie even more eager to ruin you. In his peripheral vision, he caught his eye on your closet mirror, inciting a genius idea.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna make you feel good now. Can you do something for me?” You would do anything for him; so of course, you said yes.

Eddie grabbed your hand, guiding you to sit in front of him with your back to his chest. His warm calloused hands bore a feather light touch as they grazed along your thighs. Slowly they inched higher, stopping just before where you needed it and pushing your thighs wide apart. Your best friend stared at the slickness of your folds, licking his lips in anticipation. Everything he'd ever fantasized about was slowly becoming part of reality.

In the reflection of the mirror, you stared at yourself, not quite sure who was looking back at you. It felt foreign to have anyone, let alone Eddie’s hands on your body in this way. The cross necklace you’ve had your entire life glittered in the light, and you willed the guilt rising up your throat to be swallowed back down. You wanted this. The brush of your best friend’s fingers across your stomach pulled you out of your trance, eyes tracing his movements.

“Baby, you see this little button at the top here? That’s called your clit. It’s your best friend. And its favorite thing is to get rubbed on.”

Eddie licked his fingertips in the reflection, bringing them down to between your legs to demonstrate. The wet feeling of his spit on your clit as his calloused hands began to rub circles was so foreign yet welcomed. Your brain began to feel fuzzy as the pleasure took over and your best friend enjoyed watching you come apart for him. Breathy moans and whimpers escaped your lips as you rutted into his hand, chasing something you weren’t even sure what to call.

He cooed at you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears. The ghostly feeling of his lips brushing against your hot skin clouded your mind, making it almost impossible to enjoy his praises. It was almost too much and yet you craved more. But then he stopped.

“Eddie! Why’d you do that?” Whatever was building up in your lower stomach, aching to be released, slowly began to dissipate along with your excitement.

“Because, I want you to do it yourself.” He paused to kiss your temple, softening the blow of your disappointment.

“But I can’t—”

“Yes you can, and you will. Give me your hand.” You did as told, watching as Eddie put two of your digits in his mouth and sucked. It was so…sinful. Nothing like anything you’d ever seen; and you couldn’t get enough. He pulled your spit coated fingers down btwn your legs, right down to the center of your pleasure.

“Now rub. And don’t stop until I tell you.” You did as you were told, slowly at first to get used to the feeling.

Soon you fell into a rhythm, high off the feeling and chasing your own pleasure. Your back relaxed into Eddie’s arms, pushing your bodies impossibly closer together. His hips matched the rhythm of yours, which only made you wetter. Your moans were matched by his as you stared at yourselves in the mirror. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Eddie, oh God. I feel…I feel..”

He grinned at his reflection.

“I know baby, I know.” He pulled your hips into his, trying to maintain as much friction as he could. At this rate, he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Hurts a little, yeah? Keep going gorgeous, it’s gonna feel so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” His voice broke on the last few words like he was gonna burst into tears at any moment. Your lower belly tightened with a delicious kind of pain, one you chased eagerly. You rubbed your fingers at a faster pace, desperate for some kind of release as Eddie grinded against your ass. He whispered the dirtiest things in your ear, saying how good you feel and how close he is. And then, the tightness stopped as a wave of pleasure coursed through your entire body, enough to make your toes curl and ears ringing. Eddie’s name fell off the tip of your lips as you came, the final straw as wetness spread through his boxers and hips slowed to a halt. You stared in his eyes as you caught your breath, trying to find the words to describe what just happened.

You were putty in his hands, he knew that now. A post-orgasm smile spread across his lips, shamelessly staring at your fucked-out state. He had plans for you.

#eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #eddie munson x you

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irisintheafterglow · 4 months

Text

to tell you is too scary (so I'll just say something else)

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: lizzy mcalpine - "pancakes for dinner"

summary: nightmares don't usually translate to reality, but you call sakusa for the first time in years. just to be safe.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: gn!reader and post-timeskip!sakusa, nightmare about a plane crash but nothing descriptive, angst/comfort with happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (??), dialogue-driven, he hates everyone but you

note: yayy first @ficsforgaza gift post for @froggiewonder17 !! i tried out a different layout for the top section of this post, lmk if y'all like it! thank you again for donating to help palestinian families, i hope you like this :)) my f4g masterpost can be found here!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

Your thumb trembles over the call button next to his contact, hovering and waiting for some unseen force to make you stop. Your hand keeps shaking, no matter how hard you try to stop it; the ravaged skin of your cuticles is stained with dried blood from your constant picking and scratching. Dread crashes again in a wave and you find yourself trapped under the water, gasping for air that wasn’t being inhaled. With a knot in your lungs, instinct takes over and taps your phone.

The three ascending notes of the phone dialing his number sound far away and you unexpectedly heave out a choked sob. He’d probably changed his number or deleted yours. Maybe he would simply glance at the unknown caller ID and ignore it entirely, returning to his drink with all his teammates at the bar. You didn’t know him anymore.

You didn’t know him anymore.

Your palm slams onto the red circle and you curl into as tight of a ball as you can muster, disappearing into the corner of your bedroom. It’s stupid, calling him because of the first night terror you’d had in a decade. When you were kids, he was always your first call when your eyes flew open. I’m with you, I’ve got you, he said. He guided you when adrenaline turned into anxiety, when the void outside your window was unfathomably dark. He’d stay until your breathing evened into a sleeping rhythm and wouldn’t hang up until your phone died or you woke up the next morning. He was there every time you were drowning, and your soul didn’t know what to do without its safety ring except sink,

and sink,

and sink…

INCOMING CALL.

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You stare at your phone screen illuminating the blankets like a beacon. Blinking once, then twice, you wait for it to disappear like a hallucination or a trick of your psyche. It doesn’t, and when you have half the mind to reach for your phone, the screen disappears. You’d missed the call. Maybe it was a trick of the mind?

(1) MISSED CALL - Kiyoomi💛💚

INCOMING CALL.

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You’re faster this time, snatching your phone from the covers and swiping the “answer call” button to the side. It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, but he’s there. He always was, wasn’t he?

“...Omi?”

“Hey,” he says gently. There’s faint noise in the background of where he is, sounds of conversations and telecom announcements. Even with the sound of rolling wheels, he’s still clear. “You called.” Fifty minutes away, Kiyoomi imagines you nodding in the silence, maybe wiping a stray tear with the corner of your fitted sheet. “You’re safe?” You hum a shaky mhmm, still unable to force out any words. He murmurs your name, coaxing you out of your tight ball. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m safe,” you reply after a breath. Based on your voice alone, he could tell the night terror happened no more than five minutes before you called. “I just–I’m sorry if I–”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he reassures you, immediately shooting Atsumu a withering glare when he tries to dance up to Kiyoomi’s less busy part of the airport. The MSBY team’s international flight was canceled an hour ago, but he was still trying to figure out if he wanted to stay with his teammates at a closer hotel. The present situation felt, literally and metaphorically, like you were calling him home.

“There was a plane,” you say in a broken whisper. He strains to hear your crackling voice and shakes his head adamantly when Bokuto and Hinata try to join Atsumu’s antics. Now was not the time to fuck around with him. “You were on it, and something went wrong, and it–There was an accident and…I just had to watch it happen. I had to watch it happen and I couldn’t do anything.” Your voice cracks and trails off, making Kiyoomi’s chest twist like a wrung towel. Your friendship was strained after Kiyoomi’s second Nationals, fading completely until there was nothing left when you graduated except photobooth strips from third grade. He kept your number, though, in case something like this ever happened. In case you needed him again or he needed you, he never decided.

“Are you–are you home right now?” Another broken mhmm. “Can I see you?”

“You’re not overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, as of an hour ago,” he admits, running an exasperated hand through his curls and straightening his track jacket collar. A flash of light catches the corner of his eye. Cameras, cameras, cameras, always. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing, “But, the flight got delayed and ultimately canceled because of maintenance issues. We’re probably gonna have to postpone the game.”

“I’m sorry, Omi.” You hear him shrug in that indifferent manner that always seemed to come down when he was with you. All his walls, actually, came down when he was with you.

“I don’t care, honestly. My question still stands.” He swallows thickly, begging you to say yes for both of your sakes. When his phone showed your contact photo for the seven seconds you called, it awakened grief in him he thought he’d buried years ago. By all accounts, Sakusa Kiyoomi desperately missed you. “I can be there in an hour. I’ll take a car, I don’t care how much it costs.”

“It’s–it’s fine, you really should stay with your team and rest,” you mutter, always the selfless one worrying about his well-being. You were too good to him, letting him cancel plans for training camps and tournaments, always letting him go. “I don’t want you missing another flight if it comes up.”

Too bad that, when it came to you, Kiyoomi had decided long ago he’d always be selfish.

“Say you need me and I will be there.” You don’t hesitate.

“I need you here, Omi,” you murmur. He’s gone in seconds–mind, body, and soul. His body acted instinctually, running on nothing else but the sole purpose of getting home to you. With a wad of cash and an Olympic athlete’s intellect calculating the fastest way to reach you, he vows that you would never need to say you needed him again.

Because he’d say he needed you instead.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#fics for gaza #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Note

I love your writing! Can you please write a 2003!Leo X reader where Leo shows up at their apartment injured so they bandage him up and give him some comfort (by making him lay down and relax while they ride him)👀

Injured (Angst/Fluff) (18+)

2003!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Finally got around to write something!💚 I’ve been so busy, but I hope this was worth the wait💚 Btw, I’ve just started watching the Fallout series, so I had to stop myself from going to gorish.

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Description of wound, blood, mentioning of sewing a wound, masturbation?, stripping, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, implied orale - female receiving.

“What the hell happened?!”, you asked in a panic as you helped Leo in through your window, your body shaking at the sight of his hand, clutching his bleeding side, covering the palm of his hand in a deep red color.

“Foot ninjas”, your boyfriend muttered through gritted teeth, pain shooting across his face with every move, as you guided him towards the couch. “Wanted to get some night training in, but they surprised me. I was just lucky to be so close by”.

“Does anybody know that you’re out?”, you asked, your mind raising trying to remember everything that the turtles had taught you, in case something like this would happen. Granted, you had never thought it would happen…

“Yes”, Leo answered, his voice straining a bit, trying to cover the pain in his right side, while watching you hurry through your apartment, in order to find everything you needed. He knew very well that you were trying to keep him talking. Talking and awake. “I asked if they wanted to come along, but they said no. Probably a good thing”.

You almost fell down next to the couch, fumbling with the first aid kit in your hands, taking deep breaths in order to calm yourself. Just like Leo had taught you. And finally, you were able to open the first aid kit, feeling some form of calm wash over you, as you got to work on Leo’s wound.

You had never heard Leo make such sounds as the ones he did that night. He groaned in pain when you sewed his injury shut, his hands clutching on the couch pillows, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm himself. The pain a mutant was able to go through was still hard for you to wrap your head around. And for a moment you had to steady yourself, in order not to let your hands shake once again.

Once you had finally bandaged Leo’s wound, you helped him from your couch and into your bedroom, laying him down on your bed, so that he could relax, while you took on the task of cleaning your living room, from the red blood he had brought with him. You disinfected the hard surfaces, and took the fabric off of your couch, contemplating whether or not you should try to bleach it, or just get a whole new set. In the end, you decided to worry about it another day.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked as you reentered your bedroom, seeing Leo still laying on your bed.

“Better”, Leo smiled. “Can already feel it healing”.

“The perks of being a mutant”, you smiled, before taking a seat next to your boyfriend.

“I guess so”, Leo said, his hand instinctively finding yours, before interlocking your fingers.

You sat like this for a moment, smiling at each other, looking into each others’ eyes, before Leo's hands slowly came to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You instinctively knew what this gesture meant, and with a small chuckle, you leaned down, before pressing your lips to Leo’s in a soft and sweet kiss. Leo let out a small hum - a sound of joy and relaxation. Sure, his wound may have been taken care of, but that did not change his still somewhat alert stage. So to feel you like this against him, made him calm down. His breathing deeper and his touch heavier against your cheek. You had experienced Leo’s minor changes in actions before, knowing very well what effect you had on him. Therefore it did not surprise you when his small hum turned into a small churr, somewhere deep within his chest, the hand on your face getting a soft yet firm grip on the side of your face. It was almost instinctive. Sudden yet very slow. Leo was holding back, both because of his wound, but also because of you. He would never do anything without making sure that it was okay with you.

With another small chuckle, you leaned your head to the side, allowing you to deepen your kiss, Leo’s hand moving from your face to your hair, tangling his fingers with your locks. You felt Leo’s tongue glide across your lower lip, asking you for entrance, which you gladly accepted. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy dance, small sounds of joy and excitement escaping the two of you.

Leo placed his other hand on the mattress, leaning on it as he tried to sit up, your lips still on each other. But he did not get far before you pushed him back down on the bed, breaking your kiss as you did so. Leo looked up at you in slight confusion, only to be met by a mischievous smile by you.

“You’re injured”, you said, your hands finding the bottom of your shirt before pulling it off. “And it’s my job to take care of you”.

Catching on to what you meant, Leo let out a strangled noise, feeling the need behind his cloaca grow. With lustful eyes he watched as your hands moved to the zipper of your pants, before slowly taking them off. Had he not had a gash in his side, he would have jumped on you by now. Instead he settled for curling one arm up around his head, letting his other slowly run towards his cloaca as he watched you slide your pants down your legs.

Once your pants were off, your hands slowly ran from your hips up to your chest, where you let your hands glide over your bra covered breasts. Catching Leo’s eyes as you did so, he let out another wounded sound, before slowly undoing himself from his cloaca, holding his erect member in his hand while he waited for you to continue your little show for him. And you did, undoing your bra before letting it fall to the floor, so that your hands could start massaging your chest. Leo chuckled with a small smile, his hand slowly beginning to work up and down his member.

“Beautiful”, he mumbled, his voice having gone deeper and slightly raspy, making your panties more wet than they already were. “Absolutely beautiful”.

You felt pride bobble within you. Leo’s words always seemed to have that kind of effect on you. Just like you could turn him on with his, so could he turn you on. And he knew it. He could smell it, your scent strong in the air, making him just a little light headed. And he loved it. He had always loved what the scent of your arousal was able to do to him.

Your hands went from your breasts and down to the hem of your underwear, taking a hold of them by hooking your thumbs, before slowly pulling them down your hips, all while maintaining your intense eye contact with Leo. This had Leo churring much louder, with his hand quickening its motion on his erect member. What eye contact couldn’t do to this man.

You let your panties fall to the floor before stepping out of them, making your way up on the bed, stradling Leo’s waist. Having retracted his hand from his member, in order to make room for you, Leo’s hands came to rest on your thighs, needling the flesh, before letting his right hand move upwards, with the intent of cupping your sex. However, you slapped his hand away with another mischievous smile.

“I just told you, I’m the one that’s going to take care of you”.

Leo relented, letting his hands run mindlessly up and down your thighs, watching as you took his throbbing member into your hand, letting your thumb run over the tip of his head, smearing his precum around.

Leo’s brow muscles frowned as he let out a shaky breath, watching your hand do slow tugs on him, before carefully lining him up with your entrance, teasing both you and him.

“(Y/N)...”, Leo let out in a low moan, his fingers holding on tight to your thighs.

You bit your lip with a smile, knowing exactly what it was that your boyfriend wanted, making sure that you were lined up, before slowly sliding down upon him. You let out a breathy moan as you felt his thickness stretch you out, the sound of Leo’s churring only becoming stronger and louder, his hands becoming restless on your thighs once more. If it wasn’t from the wound on his side, he would have thrusted up into you. He would have pulled you down, so that you would lay flat against his plastron, where he could allow himself to pound into you relentlessly. But he couldn’t, leaving his at the mercy of you to give him needed.

“Now, lay still”, you said, already breathless just from his size, before you slowly started to rise up his member, only to slide back down on it once more, making you both moan from the small wave of pleasure. You repeated the motion, slowly increasing your speed as you went.

“Shit, babe”, Leo groaned, watching as your chest began to bounce with your movements, one of his hands grabbing one with a squish. You in turn let out a louder moan, before angling your legs, allowing you to increase your speed even further, your skin slapping against his with every bounce, the head of his member hitting the spot of your insides with ease.

With the increase of your speed, Leo threw his head back with a moan, closing his eyes momentarily at the amazing feeling of your tight wet walls around him.

“Don’t stop, babe”, Leo moaned, his eyes still closed and his face showing the relaxation and pleasure he was feeling. “Please don’t stop, (Y/N)”.

His words spurred you on, your hands coming to rest on his chest, providing you more support with each move. One of Leo’s hands found yours on his chest, stroking it with his thumb, watching your form above him, the looks he was giving you sending shivers and tingles straight to your core.

It might have been Leo’s slightly weakened state, or the fact that you made him calm down after a period of intense emotions with adrenaline rushing, but to his surprise, Leo already found the pressure build up behind his cloaca, alerting him to the fact that he was getting close. And you knew Leo well enough to know that he was close as well. From the restlessness of his hands feeling up your body, the way that his legs were moving behind you, and how his hips fought to move with you, was letting you know how close he was getting to his high.

“Want to cum?”, you asked sweetly. Leo nodded, his hooded yet lustful eyes never leaving yours. It was strange yet incredibly erotic to see him like this. Normally he was full of energy, having to use his impressive self control to hold himself back from fucking your brains out. But right now it wasn’t an option. With Leo’s wound and his body relaxing after such a high state, he did not have energy to hold back or hold his hips still, nor did he have the energy to force you down on the mattress and plow into you. He was truly at your mercy.

“Yes”, Leo almost whimpered, his fingers lightly clawing at your hips. “Fuck, yes please. I want to cum”.

The sound of Leo begging was new to you. Usually he would be the one calling the shots in the bedroom, edging you over and over again, and making you beg before he would let your orgasm take over you. But now, as your normally dominant boyfriend was begging beneath you, you suddenly understood why he wanted you to do the same usually. It felt like a powerrush. It was almost too good not to enjoy. And had Leo not been injured, you might have done it. Toyed with it, and do the same to him like he usually did to you. But you decided against it, not wishing to accidentally make his injury worse. Tonight the goal was to make Leo relax, and provide him comfort.

You leaned your face down to Leo’s, where you gave him a quick kiss, before moving your lips to neck, passing by where his ears would have been, whispering to him in a sultry voice; “Then cum for me, babe”.

And Leo did, moving his head to the side, giving you space to work your lips over his neck, while he came inside of you, his hips buckling as much as his wound would allow him to, his churrs and moans filling the room, making the excitement in your core grow even stronger.

Once Leo was calming down from his high, you moved to get off of him and lay down on the bed, letting his member slip out of you. But before you could get up from your straddling position, Leo stopped you with his hands on your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, he asked with a slight mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m going to lay down so we can cuddle”, you said. “Just like we always do when we’re done”.

“Nah, we’re not done”, Leo said, pulling your hips back to his.

“But Leo, your wound-”.

“My wound is on my side, not on my face”, your boyfriend said, catching you off guard, leaving you stunned for a moment. He smiled at you, enjoying the look on your face, tugging at your hips. “Now, move up, sweetheart. I can’t heal without eating”.

Who would have thought that even a wounded Leo, would find ways to make you beg all night long…

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justallmyfantasies · 1 month

Text

oh, you’re a mess, love.

alex looks after your drunken state

contains: vomiting, fluff.

word count: 1.2k.

you’re walking beside alex, his hand supporting your body. you were completely wasted, stumbling around on the sidewalk. your vision was blurry, your words were slurred, and your coordination was nonexistent. alex was walking next to you, his strong hand holding onto your hip, supporting your body weight and keeping you from falling over.

"come on, let's get you home" alex says in a firm but caring tone. he tightened his grip on your hip, his hand feeling warm and comforting against your skin. the night was cool and quiet, except for the sound of your stumbling footsteps and the occasional car passing by.

you stumbled again, almost tripping over your own feet. alex quickly steadied you, pulling you closer to his side. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

"you really shouldn't have had so much to drink." alex murmurs as he leads you down the sidewalk. you could feel the concern in his voice, but you were too drunk to form a coherent response.

the walk to your home felt endless, each step a struggle in your drunken state. alex's hand on your hip felt like a lifeline, keeping you grounded and preventing you from falling flat on your face. finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached your front door.

alex unlocked the door, holding it open for you as you stumbled inside. the room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside. you wobbled your way over to the couch, plopping down on it with a thud.

alex followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. he looked at you with a mix of pity and concern, his eyes scanning your face. you could feel the room beginning to spin, the alcohol in your system making it hard to focus on anything.

alex reached out and took your hand, his grip gentle but firm. "you're going to have a nasty headache tommorow," he says quietly, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin.

you groaned in response, the mere thought of tommorow making your head throb even more. you leaned back against the couch, your eyes fluttering closed as you tried to steady your breathing.

“alex..”

alex turned to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light of the living room. "yeah, love?" he asked quietly, his voice soft and comforting.

“i think i’m going to be sick,” you mumbled, your stomach churning as a wave of nausea washed over you. you felt your body start to shudder, and you knew you were going to throw up.

alex's expression shifted from concern to alarm as he heard your words. "ah shit." he muttered, quickly standing up and helping you off the couch. he led you towards the bathroom, guiding you until you were standing in front of the toilet.

before you could even register what was happening, you were hunching over the toilet, the contents of your stomach emptying into the bowl. alex stood beside you, one hand holding your hair back, the other resting gently on your back.

“it’s alright, just let it out” he murmured, his voice soothing as he tried to reassure you. you retched again, the acrid taste of vomit filling your mouth.

alex continued to rub small circles on your back, offering what little comfort he could. you could feel the tension in your body starting to release as your stomach began to empty.

after a few minutes, the heaving finally subsided. you leaned against the side of the toilet, feeling weak and humiliated. alex reached over and flushed the toilet, his hand still resting on your back.

he helped you up, leading you over to the sink. he turned on the water and handed you a cup. you rinsed your mouth out, the cold water helping to wash away the bitter taste of vomit.

“that’s it, i’m never drinking again.”

alex chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, you say that every time."

he reached out and grabbed a clean washcloth, running it under warm water before handing it to you.

you gratefully took the cloth, using it to wipe your face. you looked up at alex, feeling a pang of embarrassment at your current state. you knew you looked a mess- your hair was disheveled, your makeup was smudged, and your shirt was stained with vomit.

but alex didn’t seem to mind. his gaze was still soft, his expression filled with concern rather than disgust. he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender.

“you’re a mess, you know that?” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. you groaned in response, feeling a pang of shame at your current state.

“i know. i’m sorry.” you mumbled, looking down at your feet. you felt terrible, not just from the alcohol, but from the knowledge that you had made a complete fool of yourself in front of alex.

he chuckled again, shaking his head. “don’t apologise. it’s not the first time you’ve gotten shitfaced like this, and it probably won’t be the last.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words. alex had been there for you through all your drunken nights- picking you up from bars, taking care of you when you were sick, and putting up with your foolish behavior. despite everything, he was still here, standing by your side.

he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, steadying you. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’re gonna want to sleep this off.”

you nodded gratefully, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. you allowed alex to lead you out of the bathroom and towards your bedroom. he helped you get undressed, removing your vomit-stained shirt and helping you into a clean set of pajamas.

once you were dressed, he helped you into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. you snuggled under the covers, feeling the warmth and comfort of the sheets surrounding you.

alex got into his side of the bed, in his sleepwear which was just some boxers. his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “try and get some sleep, alright? you’re gonna feel like hell tommorow.”

you nodded weakly, already feeling the exhaustion pulling you under. alex switched off the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. you could feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.

“i love you.”

just before you fell asleep, you felt alex’s hand reach out and lace fingers with yours. “i love you too.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a small gesture of comfort and reassurance.

you smiled faintly, feeling a wave of gratitude towards him. despite everything, alex was always there for you, always taking care of you even when you didn’t deserve it. with that thought in mind, you slowly slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

alex continued to hold your hand, watching as your breathing slowed and your body relaxed into sleep. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of affection for you, despite the hassle you put him through. he knew that tomorrow you would wake up hungover and embarrassed about your behavior, but for now, you looked peaceful and content. and that was enough for him.

hi this is my first time writing something proper, don’t judge please!! i’m all open to advice and suggestions. 💕

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fluff #justallmyfantasies

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mangowillow · 2 years

Text

perhaps love

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

genre/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, hurt & comfort, mentions of drinking & insomnia

word count: 12.5 k

a/n: no matter how many times i tear this story down, it will always come back swinging. perhaps love was the very first fic i wrote for the fandom and this story means a ton.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved Jungkook with all of your heart.

But the reality is, love seemed out of reach, a far stretch. Not when Jungkook was first and foremost your best friend.

The whole apartment was surrounded by darkness, except for the pure moonlight that seeped through your bedroom window. Your room was your favorite place in the world-- away from everyone, just you and the stillness. You had really bad sleeping habits and your insomnia has gotten worse over time. You tried everything to fall asleep, including hot showers and scented candles. Nothing worked… except for Jungkook.

Jungkook usually played games into the night as his own way to unwind from the stress of being one of the most sought-after graphic artists. When he’s not holding the console, he’s nose deep into his computer or tablet, illustrating his next commission. He just submitted his drafts for his latest client’s marketing kit a few hours prior so he could afford to while away his time tonight. He walked to the kitchen to grab another can of beer when he saw your bedroom door slightly ajar. He padded his way through the hall and leaned against the doorframe, watching your peaceful expression

“Can’t sleep?”

You turned your head in the direction of the bedroom door. Jungkook’s gentle voice that echoed through the quiet of their shared apartment was his other favorite place in the world.

“It’s always hard.”

Jungkook pushed the door further and went inside. You two had been living together for almost two years and Jungkook already knew the layout of the space like the back of his hand. He set the unopened beer can on the bedside table and went under the duvet with you. It had always been this simple-- it was either Jungkook grabbed an extra beer can and share it with you or coaxed you to sleep entirely. Tonight, it was the latter. Jungkook ran a hand up and down your back.

You felt a pang inside your chest. It was barely there but still felt. Tonight was different, lonelier. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe this was just how it had to be.

“Tell me what you need,” Jungkook muttered.

“Gguk…” you started. Jungkook hummed, ever so kind, so patient. “Can you help me sleep?”

Years of friendship made words between you comfortable and safe. Your insomnia started right around the time your dance studio was gaining more enrollees and by the end of a year, you already needed to hire a few more dancers and bigger studio space. Jungkook was there to witness all your hard work, sleepless nights trying to perfect a routine you had to teach every week. Jungkook was there to help you through the breakdowns and occasionally had to endure your spats, to which you apologized for with ramen and kimbap.

You and Jungkook go way back, but tonight it’s just the two of you and your shared present. Jungkook helped you lay down on the bed and your heart swelled . Jungkook lay on his side as he gently guided you to face him. In the calm of the night, you saw stars in Jungkook’s eyes. You willed yourself not to speak for fear of breaking the moment. Jungkook started to caress your cheek ever so lightly, eyes falling close as you reveled in the softness of how Jungkook took care of you. As Jungkook continued to comfort you, he started singing your favorite sleep song.

now playing: watch you sleep. by girl in red

Jungkook’s melodious voice rang through the room with much reverence. You both find yourselves busy in life, but you always, always come back home to each other-- and that thought makes your heart ache so much more. Tonight might be lonely, but you also treasured moments like this when you allowed yourself to surrender, to take pleasure in being with Jungkook. By the time he finished the song, you were already fighting to stay awake.

I want to be with you for longer.

“What about your game, Gguk?”

“I will play another round before I go to bed. Right now, you’re more important.” Jungkook tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Gguk-ah.”

A smirk found its way into Jungkook’s pretty lips. He knew what was coming next.

“Can you stay?”

It felt like the whole room stilled ten times over.

“I mean… just for tonight,” you quickly added, worried you might’ve said the wrong thing too late.

Jungkook gently got up from the bed and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder if you messed up. Yeah, you did , you thought. Was it that easy to mess things up? Was Jungkook really that uninterested? As you listened to Jungkook’s footsteps, you also heard the gameplay music coming from the living room abruptly stop. A few objects were heard being moved around until Jungkook’s footsteps once again became louder.

Jungkook said nothing as he closed the door to your bedroom, his weight sinking into the other side of the bed.

Oh, he came back, your mind dumbly said.

It was always familiar, that feeling of Jungkook being too close. You wished it never had to end. Jungkook slid an arm under you and the other caged you in closer to his chest. He dropped a light kiss to the top of your head and picked up where his hands left off— grazing your spine.

“Are you cold?”

You swore you heard Jungkook smile through his words.

“No. The duvet can cover us both, I think.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you through the night in case the duvet falls.”

Jungkook placed another feathery kiss on your forehead. A few seconds seemed to have passed with nothing but comfortable silence, two hearts beating for one another.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

You felt Jungkook’s hold on you grow tighter.

“Goodnight, ____.”

The morning after was both the easiest and hardest thing you had to face because it was either you woke up to Jungkook still peacefully sleeping beside you or to an already empty bedside.

This time around, Jungkook was already awake and smiling.

Smiling.

You thought it to be so endearing and cruel of him at the same time. Jungkook never watched you sleep before.

Chuckling probably because he saw your wide eyes, he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

You shifted before nodding with a small smile. “How about you?”

“Like a baby.”

You chuckled too as he yawned and stretched. You’re so beautiful like this.

“What do you want for breakfast, ___?”

“Do we still have eggs?”

Jungkook nodded, “and bacon, too.”

“Ugh, heaven on earth. I’ll have both, please.”

Jungkook smiled warmly like he was the soft morning light himself, “I’ll whip us some pancakes, too.”

You nodded, yawning a second time. You got up to brush your teeth and do the usual morning skincare routine. As you stared at yourself through the mirror, you thought about how you could feel so content living with Jungkook like this— peaceful with endless possibilities.

You realized your love for Jungkook on a rainy day when both of you were supposed to try and fly the kites you made over Gwangalli beach in Busan. You remember feeling bummed out because Jungkook put so much hard work into making those kites, only to be destroyed by a sudden downpour. You’d expected Jungkook to be upset as well, but to your surprise, Jungkook pulled you into the pouring rain to dance. He always did that. You thought he was crazy for doing so, but you went along with your fifteen-year-old friend’s absurd idea.

It was a good thing you let yourself be pulled into pouring rain by Jeon Jungkook… because from then on, your love for him just grew. Blossomed like the spring flowers on a cool afternoon.

You were pulled out from your memories when you heard a phone ring. You quickly finished combing your hair and went out of the room, feeling hopeful about breakfast.

“...hyeong, I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

It was Jungkook speaking to someone on the other end of the line. He had his AirPods on as he waited for the bacon to turn crispy— just the way you liked it. You sat down across from Jungkook on the kitchen counter and he gave you a small smile, even though his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll go… I’ll see you later.” Jungkook tapped the right AirPod twice, ending the call. You could tell something was off.

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away as he transferred the bacon onto a plate with paper towels. “Yeah, that was Yoongi hyeong”

“Oh great, are you guys meeting up later?” You tried to make light of the situation, but could already feel the other shoe was about to drop.

You’ve always had that lingering anxiety at the pit of your stomach whenever you were with Jungkook. It co-exists, always present as your love for him. It’s the product of a love unreciprocated.

Jungkook hummed, too concentrated on the eggs in front of him. “Hyeong set me up on a date with someone.”

“Oh…”

Jungkook kept his head down as he cooked, but you didn’t miss how he looked up briefly at you the moment the small surprise left your lips.

“That’s great, Jungkook. Isn’t it? It’s about time you tried dating again.”

The morning was already starting to crumble right before you could even get through breakfast.

“Yeah, I… I think it’d be fun. I’ll see how it goes.”

You have seen Jungkook’s fair share of dating experiences over the course of your friendship. He never brought anyone home to your apartment, but you almost always witnessed how fleeting his dates were. It wasn’t as if Jungkook didn’t like them, it’s just that he prioritized his work more than the possibility of finding love. The last one Jungkook dated was like a tornado in human form. You remembered how happy he always seemed to be after their dates. He’d tell you about how she made him want to come out of his shell more and that maybe, just maybe she could be the one. You were happy for his best friend then, you always were. But you were also heartbroken seeing your childhood love date other people, let alone look at them differently. You had only met the girl once— and you immediately understood why Jungkook liked her. Kind, charming, and passionate about art and life. An advocate for women’s rights, a cat lover.

Everything that you didn’t seem to be.

You don’t know how the relationship ended, though. That’s the thing about Jungkook— with you, he was magic and light, wild and full of compassion, but when it came to sharing his feelings, he always had a hard time expressing them. You are as patient as ever though, never pushing Jungkook to emotional places where he didn’t want to be.

You will always wait for Jungkook. But is it worth it?

“You should really get out of the house, Jungkook. Go and have fun. Your art will be waiting for you here at home,” you tried to smile as Jungkook handed you your breakfast request.

“You sound like you really want me out of the house, ____.” Jungkook teased.

You dramatically sighed, threw in a slight roll of your eyes for good measure, “I just want what’s best for you. You know that.”

“I always know, ____.”

You will always look out for him. Love him from afar. You will always choose your best friend. You could only wish that Jungkook would choose you, too.

You definitely felt like an idiot waiting up for Jungkook.

You liked to tell yourself that Jungkook’s mystery date didn’t bother you at all, but being alone in the apartment on your day off didn’t help much because you thought about the said date all day long.

Here’s the problem: You didn’t know you were so bothered.

Well, you, knew why… in a way. But you didn’t like admitting it to yourself because it becomes so much clearer. Jungkook has always been a constant in your life, a friend through thick and thin-- but that’s the issue. Jungkook is a friend.

You heard faint footsteps becoming louder until someone was punching the code to unlock the door— Jungkook was home. You quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 9 pm. He’s home early, isn’t he? What does coming home early or late from a date even mean ? You shook your head rapidly, willing the ridiculous questions away when the familiar melody of the door successfully unlocking rang through the room, and in came Jungkook. You repositioned yourself at lightning speed, pretended to watch TV, and only looked up when Jungkook came into view.

“Hey. How did your date go?” Your eyes flitted back to the screen in front of you, feigning indifference.

Jungkook plopped next to you on the couch and stretched his legs, “T’was good.”

Turning your body to face Jungkook you asked, “How good is good?”

Jungkook chuckled as he intertwined his fingers behind his neck. He didn’t pry his eyes away from the TV, which was showing a variety show about refrigerators.

“We had dinner. Mia was a nice girl, very polite.”

Ah, so the name was Mia. You slowly nodded before tilting your head to the side, revealing a small smirk, “did you have fun at least?”

“I guess it was alright. You know how awkward blind dates make me feel.”

“What makes them awkward again?”

“I’m not sure exactly… It's like I just don’t know how to act around them, let alone know what to say. It’s— I’m not even sure if she had a good time, to be honest.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a good time,” you turned your attention back to the TV but muted the volume. Why was there a face towel inside one of the refrigerators?

“What makes you so sure, ____?”

You shrugged, “You’re pretty amazing Jungkook. Funny, smart, very attuned to others. I think you just don’t see it because, you know, it’s you.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. The momentary silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why are you still up, ____?” Jungkook suddenly murmured. He was still facing the TV, but he had his eyes closed.

You suddenly felt a need to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. When you didn’t respond, Jungkook opened his eyes and turned to face you. “Do you need help sleeping, ____?”

“I really shouldn’t ask for too much, Jungkook. It must be uncomfortable not sleeping in your own bed.”

Jungkook gently flicked a finger at your forehead. You feigned hurt.

“Silly. Come on, let’s get ready for bed. It’s getting late and you have an early class tomorrow, right?” You didn’t even know he remembered your schedule. You let Jungkook pull you by the wrist, leading the way to your bedroom.

Like coming home, you slotted yourself comfortably in between Jungkook’s waiting arms as you both lay in bed. Jungkook rested his chin on top of your head and breathed in your soft, powdery scent. You instantly felt Jungkook relax, all tension starting to ebb away, but maybe it was all just in your head.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I just… I don’t know, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to sleep.”

Jungkook adjusted himself in a way to give you some wiggle room but still held you close. “You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand how pressured you must feel, especially because the dance studio is going through big transitions.”

In your mind, you were thinking of all the ways you and Jungkook just clicked . But there’s that tiny part of you that feels that maybe this arrangement wasn’t the most ideal because for all you knew, Mia might just be a really great girl and Jungkook just needed time to warm up to her. Having Jungkook this close was your dream-- a dream you’ve always kept safe in the recesses of your mind. Now that it’s actually happening— and that it’s been happening for a while now— you crave this closeness more and more and yet, you also feel guilty because you needed to run in the opposite direction. Before things got too painful.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your body went stiff so Jungkook pulled you much closer as he ran a hand through your hair. He looked at you, eyes soft and half-lidded, your faces too close you felt like something else was going to happen.

But nothing ever happened. Of course.

He held your gaze a bit longer and you wanted to tell him the truth. Tell him to look at you just this once. But words failed you once more.

“Thank you, Gguk.”

Not a lot of words need to be exchanged. You have been friends for so long that almost all your movements and emotions, no matter how subtle, were easily discernible. You know when Jungkook is having one of his creative blocks because he becomes irritable. Jungkook knows that you can sometimes be too hard on yourself when it comes to dancing, so he cooks your favorite bibimbap as a way to ease his stress. You and Jungkook just know how to comfort one another.

“My silly darling,” He never called you that before, but you could almost hear Jungkook smile as he uttered it. “I want to be here.”

If your heart suddenly stopped, you hoped Jungkook didn’t notice. I want to be here, he said. With a languid smile on your tired face, you succumbed to the pull of sleep, hoping your dreams about Jungkook would never end.

“You already picked the last movie, ____.”

“Fine, we can watch one of yours.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile reappeared and your heart grew ten times its size. After eating dinner, you both decided to watch a movie. After all, it was a Friday night and neither of you had the energy to spend it outside with other people. You watched as Jungkook flicked through the movie choices until he finally settled on a Marvel movie.

You were already halfway through the movie when the doorbell rang. You and Jungkook looked at each other, both of you surprised because you weren’t expecting anyone at this late hour. As you shrugged your shoulders, Jungkook got up to answer the door.

You decided to pause the movie because you didn’t want Jungkook to miss anything, but doing so made it clear that the sudden visitor was actually Yoongi.

The location of the door wasn’t too far off from where you were sitting. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop either, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Jungkook didn't let Yoongi in.

“Mia told me about your date. I don’t understand, Jungkook, you both said you had a great time, so what’s the problem?”

Oh, they were talking about Jungkook’s date. At this hour?

“I don’t know, hyeong. I guess it never occurred to me to call her so quickly after a first date. Did you come all the way here just to ask that?” Jungkook was a fairly mellow person. Almost never irritable with anyone but himself, just very patient even when you could see how other people were already pushing his buttons.

“I think Mia really likes you, Gguk-ah. You should call her. I also came by to bring you back some of your art supples because you left them at the studio yesterday.”

You heard plastic rustling. Jungkook didn’t answer right away, not until his voice lowered, almost sounding like he was pleading.

“Let me think about it, hyeong. Please?”

Yoongi sounded a bit exasperated, “Fine. How’s ____?”

“She’s fine. We were actually watching a movie,” Jungkook was back to his usual tone of voice, but clipper.

“Oh, that’s nice…”

“Would you like to join us? We still have a beer in the fridge, I think.”

“No, I just… I was just about to go home and thought I’d stop by to give you your things because I already had them in the car, but uh— yeah. Maybe some other time.”

It didn’t register with you right away that Jungkook had Mia’s number. Whether Jungkook asked for it or the other way around, they still exchanged numbers. There was a chance of a second date. You didn’t notice the lump forming in your throat as you came to realize again that Jungkook wasn’t yours. You had no right to think this way about Jungkook and his love life. He lives his own life, free to date anyone, anytime.

You weren’t supposed to hear this conversation either. The feeling of impending dread slowly crept up on you. All you knew was that whatever you were feeling right now is something that shouldn’t even be happening.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw Jungkook return from the corner of his eye. You suddenly lost all strength to continue the movie. Without even thinking, you pulled yourself up to your feet with the intention of going back to your room. Maybe sleep would do something to dull the ache.

But then you remembered you had a hard time doing that, too.

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You held out hope for a minute there— hope that maybe Jungkook would tell you he was sorry, but then again, what would he be sorry for? He shouldn’t feel sorry for anything, especially not your feelings.

The sadness was starting to fester through your bones again. You had to get out of the living room, away from the one person who could make you feel better. Wordlessly, you let your feet take you to the bedroom and quietly shut the door.

Jungkook never tried to pry nor force you to explain anything to him. He was always the understanding one, always the one who gave you your space when you needed it, even when you were being cold to him.

That’s the thing with Jungkook— he knew exactly when to be there for you. Except for this time around, not even Jungkook’s presence can heal an unknown emptiness that you don’t even recognize yourself.

Nine-year-old you never really liked the first few hours after school because that meant you had to stay and wait until your mom picked you up. School grounds can get pretty lonely, especially when all the other kids have already gone home. Young as you were, you found it funny that both you and your mom ended up closing shop every day— you closing school grounds, while your mom closed the register at the grocery store where she worked.

What nine-year-old you hated the most was when you had to wait after school while it rained because you couldn’t walk around the courtyard and play.

You hugged your knees as you rocked yourself back and forth watching the rain splatter on the cold, hard ground. Of all days, you forgot to bring a jacket and you were starting to shiver. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon. Your mom wouldn’t arrive until six.

Just after you let out a big sigh, a boy came running in your direction carrying an umbrella. Strange. No one but you usually stayed at school this late.

When the boy reached the stairs and closed his umbrella, he shook off excess water from his already wet hair, causing a few droplets to splatter all over your face.

“Oops, sorry about that.”

The boy gave you his widest smile as he continued to catch his breath from running too fast. You usually saw this boy walk along the school hallways, always surrounded by his friends. You were also clubmates in dance.

“My name’s Jungkook. We go to dance club together.”

“I know...” You replied as you rested your chin on top of your knees again.

“You dance really well, I wish I could be as graceful as you… anyway, what are you still doing here?”

“I’m waiting for my mom. She usually picks me up, but she has to finish her job at the store first.”

“Oh, okay. How long do you still have to wait for her?”

“Probably a few more hours,” you didn’t mean for your tone to be somber, but you couldn’t help it.

As much as you love your parents, sometimes it can get quite lonely.

“That might take forever!” Jungkook’s eyes grew wide but you found it amusing. Most people would just say ‘oh’ and move on. Or maybe pity you.

“It’s no big deal, I’m used to it already.”

“Well, do you want to grab something to eat first?”

While you knew Jungkook meant no harm, you still wondered why he was offering all of a sudden. What was he even doing here?

“I don’t think—”

“My driver Mr. Hong-sik is parked right outside near a hotteok stand. Let’s go buy some!”

You hesitated because you weren’t supposed to leave the school grounds until an adult came to pick you up but at the same time, you were really hungry.

“What do you say?”

“Do you promise that we will go back here after buying?”

Jungkook was already nodding, his smile growing wide again upon hearing the possibility of you giving in to the idea of hot hotteok.

“Yes, of course. Mr. Hong-sik will take care of us, don’t worry. Besides—” Jungkook opened his umbrella, droplets of rain splattered across your face again, “—this umbrella is big enough to fit us both.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It would only be years later when Jungkook admitted to you that he had known for a while how you spent your days alone after school and that he wanted to keep you company.

When you were seventeen and Jungkook fifteen, the school dance team won an award. You both celebrated by eating ramen and ice cream at your mother’s grocery store.

When you and Jungkook went to college, you decided to share a room together because you both got into SNU. Over the years mishaps had happened, you both cringed at each other’s disaster dates, and cried when you had your hearts broken by careless people. Through the highs and lows of life and love, you and Jungkook were a team.

Now that you are twenty-six and Jungkook twenty-four, you continue to conquer the world together.

Except that you never expected to slowly fall for the boy who accidentally splattered water on your face twice and shared his umbrella.

“Yah— stop eating all of the danmuji!” Taehyung playfully snapped as he chewed on his jajangmyeon.

“I already told you to order extra, but of course, you didn’t listen again,” you replied, happily chewing on the kimchi.

“I totally forgot, okay? Let me breathe,” Taehyung pouted. “It’s not every day when little kids come into the studio and wreak havoc during hip hop class.” You chuckled at your best friend’s whining and placed a piece of danmuji on top of his noodles. Taehyung looked to you and mumbled his thanks.

You were sitting with your legs sprawled out on the dance floor of the dance studio. Both of you just finished your separate intensive classes and were fueling up for the next set this afternoon.

“I heard Jungkook went out on a date,” Taehyung isn’t really one for dilly-dallying. Always straight to the point.

“Yoongi told you, huh?”

“Of course. The man could never hide secrets from me. Not in our household.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Jungkook did go on a date,” you didn’t like where the conversation was going, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Taehyung from asking further either. A part of you wanted to talk about it with someone.

“And how do you feel about that?” Taehyung shoved a piece of kimchi onto his mouth and waited for your answer.

You started to re-arrange the toppings on your plate, trying to avoid eye contact all of a sudden, “what do you mean?”

“I know you, ____. You can’t hide from me.”

You chuckled at your best friend’s blunt nature. It’s one of the things you liked most about him because you were the opposite— always caring, understanding, nice. You put others first before yourself because that’s who you are— the reliable friend. You know Taehyung means well and is just looking out for you, too.

“Do I have to answer your question?”

“You don’t have to, but I can tell it’s bothering you. You didn’t even notice that I took the last piece of chicken just now—”

“YAH!”

Taehyung snickered, “But seriously, you’re quiet than usual. Does he still help you sleep?”

“He does.”

“And he hasn’t said anything beyond that?”

“What is he supposed to say?”

Taehyung shrugged, “You tell me.”

“We’re friends, Taehyung. There’s nothing else to say” You let your shoulders sag. You’re surprised at yourself that you’ve been holding the tension in.

“After everything—” Taehyung paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to carefully choose what to say next, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason why he volunteers to help you sleep is that he likes you too?”

“Stop putting ideas into my head.”

“I’m not, but I do want to point out what you can’t see, ____. I’m your best friend— Jungkook is, too, but with us it’s different. I don’t feel the urge to jump you every so often, ah!---” Taehyung earned a playful smack from you, “Look, all I’m saying is… you and Jungkook have been friends for a really long time so why don’t you just talk to him?”

You started to argue, “It’s not that easy. It might ruin our friendship.”

“But how else are you going to get past this?”

“Take my feelings to the grave,” you expressed glumly.

“So dramatic. And very, very difficult for you to bear all on your own.”

“I’m scared, Taehyung. What if things become awkward?”

“Will Jungkook really let it come to that? He’s your best friend. If he says he doesn’t feel the same way, the more important thing here is you. You and your heart— because at least in knowing, you can finally move forward. Date other people without the what ifs.”

You seemed to mull over Taehyung’s words.

“I’m not forcing you to ask him. At the end of the day, you get to decide. I just want you to be happy, ____. Always.”

“I know, Taehyung-ie. Thank you.”

You came home that night to Jungkook passed out from exhaustion on their couch. He still had his eyeglasses on, his apple pencil caught in between his fingers. His iPad was on top of the coffee table and you assumed that Jungkook rushed yet again another commission for a client. It was still early— 8 o’ clock. You wondered if Jungkook had already eaten. You draped a blanket over him and adjusted his head on one of the pillows into a more comfortable position. The movement slightly jostled Jungkook awake. With half-lidded eyes, he gave you a sleepy smile.

“Hi ____, you’re home.”

“Hmm, I am.”

“How was class today?”

“Excellent. Did you get to finish that commission?”

Jungkook yawned, “Barely... ”

You reluctantly caressed Jungkook hair, fingers gently rubbing his scalp. As soon as you did, his eyes fell closed.

“Have you eaten, Gguk-ah?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“You didn’t have to. What if I came home really late? You can’t miss your meals.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

You chuckled as he mumbled, “Brat. I’ll whip us up some kimchi kimbap and ramen. How does that sound?”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

“You can sleep more. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

“I can help you—”

“Stay put. I’ll be quick, okay?”

Jungkook nodded as he watched you disappear into the kitchen. You prepared all the supplies needed to make dinner and as soon as you started chopping the kimchi for the kimbap, you heard Jungkook’s soft snores.

Suddenly, all of your fears ebbed away. Emotions were a funny thing— the fondness you had for Jungkook overtook your whole being everytime you looked at him. Sometimes you want to feel angry at how Jungkook seemed oblivious, but then again… he isn’t really a mind-reader. You have always been affectionate with each other and you wondered where people drew the line between friendship and love. What happens when one catches feelings? What happens to both of you if a confession was the way to settle things once and for all? The stakes were too high— confessing your feelings for Jungkook might make him pull away. What happens to the friendship built over the years? If you were lucky, maybe Jungkook might love you, too.

You were in a bind and you didn’t like that.

Jungkook slept on the living room couch, tired from the day’s work. You both make meals for each other. You sleep together on the same bed. Shouldn’t life with Jungkook be this easy?

And obvious?

After twenty minutes, dinner was ready. You woke Jungkook up and he devoured the simple dinner over stories of your classes and his ideas for the client’s project.

This friendship is simple. Light. It is a life well lived between two childhood friends that began with a shared an umbrella and hotteok. You wished it was always this uncomplicated.

Jungkook helped you sleep again that night. Not a lot of words were shared because you were honestly exhausted and just when you thought you didn’t need cuddles, Jungkook went into your room and laid on your bed, not uttering a single word. He only wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your cotton scent.

“You’re always helping me, Jungkook.”

“Is it working? Are you sleeping well?”

“I am, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad, ____.”

All is right in this world, all is well with us this way, you thought before you gave in to the pull of sleep for another night.

You woke up to the sunlight and an empty bed. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the bedroom.

“Mia’s kind of annoyed that she gave you his number but you still haven’t called her”

“I know.”

“Is this about ____? Is that why you haven’t—”

“I don’t know, hyeong, it’s too early to have this conversation.”

Yoongi came into view as soon as you reached the kitchen. His back was turned to you and it seemed like he was cooking pancakes. Jungkook was sitting on the stool by the counter and had his back to you.

“Oh, good morning, ____,” Yoongi chimed.

“Good morning.”

Jungkook poured you a glass of orange juice, “Slept well?”

You didn’t have your words yet so you just nodded. Even with Yoongi busy with the stove, you felt the tension that made itself known so suddenly around the kitchen.

And for some reason, Jungkook decided to throw out the trash, leaving you and Yoongi alone for a while.

“How are you, ____” Yoongi asked as he gave you a serving of pancakes, egg, and bacon. The last thing you expected was to wake up to breakfast prepared by a visitor sprinkled with passive confrontation.

You sipped his orange juice again before replying, “I’m doing well. Dance classes are picking up.”

“I’m glad… and Jungkook?”

“What do you mean?”

“How is Jungkook… and you?”

It was way too early for this conversation.

“I need you to be a bit more specific about what you really want to ask me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi was met with an almost deafening silence. You knew that apart from him, Jungkook confided in Yoongi the most. He knew most of Jungkook’s dating escapades and with that, his heart aches too. Yoongi is Jungkook’s fiercest protector, you are well-aware. You understand how he tends to be confrontational especially when it came to Jungkook’s feelings.

Because they go way back.

In all honesty, you were terrified of Yoongi knowing about how Jungkook had been helping you sleep, but you didn’t know why you were scared. Yoongi is your friend too, after all.

Maybe because you wanted to keep such intimate moments with Jungkook for yourself. Something that was yours, and yours alone. Unfortunately, you had a gut feeling Yoongi knows a lot more than he’s letting on.

“Jungkook just started dating again, ____.”

“I’m all too aware. I don’t think I’m going to be a problem.”

“It might be if Jungkook helps you sleep every night.”

And there it is.

“We’re just friends, Yoongi. I’m not expecting anything from him.” You felt your heart sink to your feet, trampled on. Yoongi knew.

But why was frustration rising up in the back of your throat?

“Are you sure you’re not expecting anything?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tension, tension, tension. You hated it.

“You had your chance once, ____, and you walked away. It’s not fair for you to do this to Jungkook again.”

And there it is. The word again .

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lightly tapping the glass of juice with your fingers, willing for the tears to retreat back to where they came from. You cannot afford to cry in front of Yoongi. Or Jungkook. It was too goddamn early.

You did not sign up to have your memories, your insecurities, and your reality laid bare on the kitchen counter.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Jungkook is my friend. He always will be.”

Vulnerability wasn’t your strongest suit. You weren't your emotions’ best soldier, either. You wanted to yell at Yoongi, shout at him for even implying that you were getting in the way of Jungkook and his dating life.

“Jungkook cannot date freely if he always has to think about coming home to help you sleep,” Yoongi’s words cut like a knife, making you wince. “You know he deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.”

You have very blunt and straightforward friends, and although they keep you grounded, sometimes you hate how they can casually talk to you about your feelings. Sometimes you think they forget that your sunny disposition can also be sometimes moored by rain and storms.

“I’m sorry, ____. That was too much, I—”

“No, Yoongi, it’s okay,” tears have already fallen and you hastily wiped them away, “You’re right, it was my fault. I’m the one who got us into this mess. I’m the one who has the sleeping problem, I’ll— I’ll figure something out, maybe get checked or something…” You kept your eyes glued to the untouched food in front of you. Throat burning, fresh tears threatening to fall once more.

Yoongi’s words stung— but he’s also right. The pain of the unspoken truth you try so hard to push down every day come rising to the surface and you are powerless to stop it.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it the moment he looked over your shoulder. Your stomach churned because your worst fears weren’t done with you yet— Jungkook was standing by the door.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Yoongi hyeong.” The only time you heard apparent hostility in Jungkook’s voice was years ago when someone attempted to jump you at a party. Jungkook is always kind, but when irritation, let alone animosity, takes over, he becomes a completely different person.

All you knew was that Jungkook and his girlfriend in tornado form are over.

The music blaring from the speakers were too loud, everyone was all over the place— Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung. It was Jungkook’s idea to get wasted at a club. You didn’t always agree with Jungkook’s coping mechanisms, because you knew he was a terrible drinker— someone who couldn’t hold his liquor well.

But he was heartbroken and what do good friends do? Let them cry and wallow.

But right now, it was time to go home. You called a cab for Yoongi and Taehyung, while you and Jungkook got into another. It was a good decision that you didn’t bring your own car. You wouldn’t have any other choice but to drag Jungkook’s drunk ass to the passenger seat and you weren’t sure you could manage that.

You were thankful that Jungkook could still manage to walk, even if he needed to be physically supported by you. You both fumbled for a bit as you closed your apartment door behind you.

“Alright, you big baby, take off your shoes.”

Jungkook did as he was told, but you could tell his body was about to give up on him so you hastily walked him to the bedroom.

You heaved a big sigh after Jungkook collapsed into the mattress. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing slowly steady itself and you honestly thought he was asleep.

“Are you dead?”

When Jungkook didn’t move, a playful smirk painted your lips and you shook your head. You leaned in closer to fluff Jungkook’s pillow, when his head suddenly turned to face you.

With eyes half-lidded, you thought Jungkook looked beautiful underneath the sliver of moonlight shining through the bedroom window. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t help but hold his gaze.

Hesitant fingers reached up to trace the skin on your cheek. Jungkook blinked once as he ran gently ran his fingers from the corner of your eye to your chin.

Jungkook’s voice was so soft, you almost didn't hear him ask, “Why don’t you like me, ____?”

“What are you talking about, of course I like you.”

Jungkook shook his head, “That’s not what I meant…”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You reminded yourself that Jungkook was intoxicated. He wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. He might not even know what he is doing or saying right now.

“Why can’t you love me, ____?” Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “because I have loved you for so long and you won’t even look at me.”

You wanted to cry, but you didn’t exactly know why, “That’s not true, Jungkook.”

“Then prove it, ____.”

“I don’t know how.”

Jungkook, in a way, helped you. With eyes focused on your lips, he slowly lifted his head to graze your mouth with his own. When he finally kissed you, your head was spinning that you had to use your arm for support to keep you up.

Jungkook mustered up all of his remaining strength to sit up on the bed to kiss you properly. He cupped your face with his hand and you did the same. Under the same moonlight, you and Jungkook started to take that one step closer to finally acknowledging what has been there all along.

But in your head, you didn’t know what you want.

Lips separated, letting the both of you breathe. Jungkook touched his forehead against yours before his lips planted a light, lingering kiss there.

Your heart sank even deeper and you fought the tears that were about to come.

Because even though you really loved Jungkook, you and he were at the right place at the wrong time.

The next morning, you and Jungkook weren’t the type to dance around each other. He did remember what happened last night.

“I need to know, ____. I need to know what you want.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded, but you didn’t miss the flash of sadness that passed through his once hopeful eyes.

“Are we still friends at least?”

It took all of you to nod your head in agreement. It was better this way.

“Of course we are.”

“Then that’s all I want, ____.”

Just as Yoongi closed the door behind him and it was just you and Jungkook in the now tense atmosphere of the apartment, confusion flooded you. Dread soon followed upon realizing what had just happened.

You were holding Jungkook back and it’s all your fault. All because you still couldn’t decide what you really want.

When Jungkook finally locked eyes with you, his gentle gaze made your heart flutter. You don’t deserve it, you thought. But you were allured by it-- so easy to get lost in the sea of Jungkook’s beautiful, observant brown eyes, like they were meant to see right through you, heart and soul. Your face slowly morphed into a pain Jungkook didn’t recognize, a sadness he hasn’t seen before. Your bottom lip began to quiver and before you knew it, you full-on sobbed into your hands. Just as quickly as the collapse of everything began, Jungkook was swift on his feet, taking you into his arms.

Jungkook embraces you tightly, his breathing controlled in an effort to curb your sobs. You could hear Jungkook’s heartbeat and it was an odd source of comfort despite the distress you were actively feeling. You felt Jungkook’s large hand stroke your hair in slow motion, chin resting on top of your head as if trying to silently tell you don’t cry.

Being with Jungkook felt like drowning and coming up for air all at the same time— your constant, but also your poison. Yoongi was right, Jungkook deserves to be happy after you blew your chance to tell him how you really felt.

You loved Jungkook, but you had to let him go because he doesn’t deserve to be with someone who cannot make up her mind. When you said no to him a year ago, you thought it was the best for the both of you— Jungkook was hurting and he kissed you because he was drunk and in pain. Not because he loves you. You thought that maybe after some time had passed, what happened that night would just be a distant memory between two friends who had a momentary lapse of judgment.

You have to let him go because it’s the right thing to do, the only way to save the friendship you built over the years. You once saved it, you cannot mess up again. It was selfish, yet so selfless.

When you finally calmed down a little bit more and your breathing slowed, Jungkook loosened his grip. You immediately felt the distance once more, but it was as if Jungkook heard your thoughts because he only pulled away to wipe your tears with his thumbs. Jungkook’s hands cupped your face for a while longer, staring into your teary eyes. Jungkook mumbled an apology as he pressed his forehead with yours. As he closed his eyes, you received a glimpse of Jungkook’s sadness without words.

Loving Jungkook isn’t supposed to be painful.

Jungkook had to meet a new client so that meant he needed to leave the apartment. You could tell it was difficult for him to leave you all alone in the apartment, but Jungkook only asked if you were going to be okay.

You struggled to leave home that day, but you had to because if you didn’t get out and teach dance, you would continue to drown in your own suffering. You both left the apartment with nothing but your unspoken words and broken hearts.

Jungkook would find himself running late for his meeting and he arrived home to what he thought was a dark, empty apartment. Trodding down the hall to your room, he was mildly surprised to see the door was slightly ajar. Lying on the bed was you. Sleeping.

Jungkook quietly entered the room and knelt down by the side of the bed. Staring at you, with the moonlight shining down on your face, you looked serene— a stark contrast to the chaos that transpired earlier that day. Your lips were slightly parted and Jungkook found himself smiling at the sight. He gently ran his knuckles down your cheek. He did that for a while, just intentionally watching and helping you sleep even more peacefully in the gentlest way. Jungkook was thankful that you didn’t seem to be aware that you weren't alone.

You kept your eyes closed as you reveled in the softness of Jungkook’s touch. You initially thought you were dreaming of Jungkook kneeling beside you because after all, the sleep gummies seemed to knock you out enough to fall asleep without him this time. But you realized it wasn’t a dream.

Jungkook came home.

The ache in your heart returned, but at the same time, you wished this moment of Jungkook comforting you never ended. Because at least you could have Jungkook like this.

“Will you stay still, ____? I’m not done yet.”

You pouted as you watched Jungkook draw a bowl of ramen on your leg cast. You injured yourself while attempting to do a tourner for an after-school ballet class. You and Jungkook were now in university and renting an apartment together. Your leg rested on Jungkook’s lap while you both sat on the living room couch. Jungkook slightly had his tongue out while he colored in the ribbons and you scoffed.

“Are you done now?”

“You don’t rush art.”

“Yeah but I’m hungry and I think my leg is asleep.”

Jungkook smirked, “Your leg being in a cast doesn’t really have a choice given the circumstances, what did you expect?” You smacked him with a pillow, “You asshole, give me my leg back.”

“Ow! Nuh uh. I’m almost done.”

You huffed, feigning annoyance. But you were actually endeared with Jungkook’s enthusiasm to draw a different object on your leg cast every week. The moment you got out of the hospital and after Jungkook fed you some jjampong, he carried you to the same living room couch and drew the yellow umbrella he used the day you bought hotteok. The following week, it was a sketch of a person dancing ballet which Jungkook referred to as, “the loveliest ballet dancer in the universe.” This week, it was ballet shoes hanging on one side of the backrest of a chair.

“There, done!” Jungkook slightly pulled away to admire his work then he turned and gave you his dorkiest smile. You could never ask for more.

Weeks passed as you and Jungkook fell into usual routine. You can no longer recall since when you started having a hard time communicating feelings. It wasn’t like you and Jungkook fought a lot because you almost never do. But there’s always that elephant in the room that neither of you choose to address even though it’s already staring back at you both.

On Jungkook’s birthday, Taehyung decided it would be good for you all to spend your time at a club after having dinner. From the get-go, the people in attendance were the birthday boy, Taehyung, Yoongi, you, and Mia.

Needless to say, you were awkward and in pain the entire time.

It was your first time to actually see Jungkook pay attention to someone else in a romantic way. Although he and Mia have yet to put a label on anything, they continued to date, much to your misery.

At the birthday dinner, you tried your best not to look at Jungkook and Mia the whole time, but by some strange magnetic force, everytime you unconsciously looked at Jungkook, his eyes found you.

Come to think of it, Mia was the clingy one the whole night. But maybe you were just misinterpreting things. When Taehyung suggested they go to a club, you internally groaned. Not only was this a repeat performance of what you did wrong a year ago, but it was also like salt being rubbed on a wound that never completely healed well.

“Fuck it, let’s get wasted,” you thought. You weren’t about to let your misery ruin a fun night.

So much for that, though. You couldn’t even pay attention to your drink because Mia was already trying to get too close to Jungkook. The whole time, Jungkook’s expressions were unreadable. One of his many stupid traits, you sarcastically thought.

You don't know exactly what happened after— Jungkook went to the bar to order more drinks for the table, followed not too long by Mia. She was relentless in flirting with Jungkook who seemed stoic and indifferent and awkward. Mia must have been really bad at reading people. Still, she didn’t give up that easily because she dragged Jungkook to the middle of the dance floor and tried to get him to dance.

Maybe you just wanted to see what you wanted to, but if you really were in the right frame of mind, you swore you saw Jungkook finally give in and dance with her.

Jungkook was having fun with someone else on his birthday. This is what he deserves— to be happy and free. Jungkook doesn’t have to sacrifice his time just to help you sleep every night.

You felt like you were about to throw up. The room started spinning and suddenly all you could hear were muffled sounds of the music bass. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the exit. You needed to get out. You faintly heard Taehyung calling out to you, asking what was wrong but the tightness in your chest demanded much of your attention.

When you reached the exit, you pushed the door all the way with all your might and started to walk. You were relieved for once that you weren’t able to drink a drop because you needed a clear head to get home safely. The club was a short distance from the apartment and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and cry yourself to sleep.

It has been weeks. Weeks of skirting around Jungkook, acting like nothing was amiss. It worked for a while, but you knew it would backfire eventually.

You didn’t think this plan of ignoring feelings would fail you so soon. You thought you were stronger.

Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to enter the correct passcode to the door: 090197.

You cursed at the irony.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, you stumbled in the dark and took off your heels. You went straight to your room and collapsed on the bed. You let the tears stain his pillow. This isn’t new to you now— crying. It somehow helped you sleep, anyway. Right now, you don't care if you cried your eyes raw. You were hurt, in pain, and you didn’t know what to do.

Nights felt like an eternity for an insomniac like you. Your thoughts were your biggest enemy in the dead of night and most of the time you are powerless to control them. You shouldn’t have allowed Jungkook to help you in the first place. Otherwise, you wouldn’t find yourself in this predicament. You’ve already kept your distance before, why did you fail again now? You should’ve known your place, the order in this world. You were Jungkook’s best friend, and you decided that for the both of you that day you told him you were sorry.

Ruminating thoughts can be a bitch because it makes you oblivious to your surroundings in real time.

You suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip. You heard sheets rustle and felt a different kind of warmth-- the kind that only your best friend could give.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your scent. In the silence of your room, Jungkook, once again, came home to you.

Both of you didn’t speak for a long while, just listening to each other’s rhythm. You felt your bottom lip quiver— you were on the verge of crying again and as you started to sit up and perhaps leave, you felt Jungkook tighten his grip as he clasped his fingers together, securing you in place.

“Please don’t cry.”

You swallowed and tried to reply, but your voice cracked instead, “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“I want to stay here with you.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then why?”

“Like I said, I want to stay here with you.”

Like wildfire, your heart swelled even when your brain told you not to fall for Jungkook’s words. That you were only reading too much into things, “What about—”

“I told them I wanted to go home because you already did. I turned around to look for you because I heard the barista said there were french fries, but you weren’t at the table anymore.”

Tears started to stream down your face and you were grateful you weren't facing Jungkook.

“I hate being the reason why you always cry, ____. I have done absolutely nothing to make things better for you and I keep making you feel sad.” Jungkook’s voice was laced with tight emotion and it was something you were hearing for the first time. Jungkook buried himself deeper in the crook of your neck.

“It hurts so much, Jungkook.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook moved in closer to whisper in your ear, “I know. I know. I’m so sorry.”

You breathed a deep sigh as you willed away the tears. Right on cue, Jungkook gently turned your body to face him. “That’s better,” Jungkook gently smiled, pushing strands of hair away from your face.

With Jungkook’s right arm under your head and his left engulfing you in an embrace, you curled into Jungkook’s chest. No matter what pain you may be feeling, it all dissipates once you’re with Jungkook.

“I am so sorry, ____. I’m sorry I keep running away.”

You let a small smile take over his lips, “No, Jungkook. You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault”

“It’s not… it’s not your fault. It’s mine,” you saw Jungkook swallow. You looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, at the clock situated on top of the side table. Thirty minutes left until Jungkook's birthday ends.

“It’s still your birthday. You shouldn’t be spending it apologizing for something you didn’t do.”

“I am enjoying my birthday because I haven’t lost you yet. And it is my fault, stop fighting me.” Jungkook smiled. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Especially under moonlit skies.”

“I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“Then allow me to tell you now. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful person inside out and I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for not leaving me.”

You scooted closer to Jungkook, trying to fill in all the spaces in between.

It was almost a whisper and you almost didn’t hear it, “Sleep well my silly, beautiful darling,” your eyes flutter close as you felt Jungkook give you a kiss on your temple— a reassuring one, this time.

“Hey.”

You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s unusually low voice. “Shit,” you mumbled, earning a pretty smile from Jungkook. “How long have you been standing there?”

The smile didn’t leave Jungkook’s face as he apologized and said with all honesty, “A while.”

You have been spending more late nights in the studio since you and Taehyung started offering additional classes. You held a beginner’s ballet class for children after school hours and you felt you had to spend more time thinking about their routines. Kids need structure, lest their attention becomes too difficult to get a hold of. Jungkook, being the sweetest, always stayed up to wait for you to get home and eat dinner together.

This time around, Jungkook decided to pick you up from the studio.

You took in the sight of Jungkook who was leaning against the door frame, wearing a cream oversized sweater and white pants. Even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook’s handsome face was radiant.

Seeing him feels like coming home.

Jungkook walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, “I always get caught up in your world whenever I watch you dance. That hasn’t changed.” He was suddenly standing so close to you that you had to clear his throat. Yet you didn’t pull away, either.

“Time passes when that world is not working in my favor,” you said as you rolled your shoulders backward.

“Is this the ballet class for the kids?”

You hummed in response, “One would think it’s easy enough to make a routine for little kids when really, going back to basics sometimes is the hardest thing.”

“What did you use to tell me?” Jungkook asked warmly, all innocence and love, but you recognized that tone of his.

“Jungkook—”

“Help me remember, ____. How did we do it back then? When we couldn’t figure out a new routine,” you heard the heels of Jungkook’s white chelsea boots clatter against the wooden floor as he stepped away a bit from you.

You were taken back to your days in the dance club with Jungkook, the two of you in a smaller studio after school practicing for competitions. You and Jungkook were the group’s best dancers and that also meant you were almost always tasked to come up with new choreography. You recalled how you and Jungkook used to practice no matter how long it took.

Right now, at this very moment, as Jungkook gently urges you to remind you of those days, you appreciated what he was trying to do.

“I’d always tell you, ‘I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore,’”

“Hm, and how did I respond?” Jungkook’s eyes never left your face and his voice was so low, that it sent shivers up your spine.

“You’d tell me we didn’t have to do the things other people ask us to dance… not right now.” you breathed as Jungkook’s face inched closer to yours, so close that you could already hear Jungkook’s heartbeat.

“And then?”

“We’d dance. For ourselves, together.”

Just as the words escaped your lips, Jungkook slightly pulled away to take his phone out of his pocket, scroll through a playlist, the very same playlist Jungkook uses whenever you both lounge around on a Sunday morning. He found the song he was looking for and pressed play.

Jungkook put his phone back in his pocket and whispered, “We dance. For ourselves, together.” He wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hand trailed down to hold your own, intertwining both sets of fingers. Falling, you easily melted into Jungkook, your worries about the ballet routines already forgotten.

With bodies pressed close, you felt your heart plummet to a deep dive into your stomach, leaving butterflies as it burst into a million pretty pieces. Jungkook was never one for sweet words, always choosing to convey his thoughts and feelings through his art. He had given you plenty of his work over the years, drawn on crumpled tissue papers or on the back of receipts. Always in all honesty quietly telling you he was there for you no matter what.

And through dance, he was the same— loving, thoughtful, yours.

“It has been a while since you last danced, right?”

Jungkook leans his forehead into yours, his eyes focused on the floor. He hums his response as he starts to lead the dance.

“It has been a while since I last danced with you,” Jungkook whispered. “Dance with me so I remember, my love.”

You close your eyes, resting your chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Remember what, Jungkook?”

“Help me remember everything good about you and me.”

And although Jungkook couldn’t see it, you smile as you tilt your head to the side. You let Jungkook lead the both of you to the melody of the music for a good few minutes until you fell into a slow, swaying rhythm.

“I missed dancing with you like this,” you swore you felt Jungkook tighten his hold around your middle a little bit more. Jungkook dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder and said with all reverence, “I miss you, ____.”

He misses you, not missed. You never wanted to let him go.

You didn’t want to stop touching Jungkook so as you continued to allow your feet to be led by him, you ran a trail using your hand from Jungkook’s shoulders, landing on his chest. Jungkook ran his own hand at the expanse of your back, waiting, waiting.

“And I miss you too,” you said with a smile. Jungkook cupped your face and ran a thumb to your cheekbone. Never leaving your eyes, he responded, “It’s always a pleasure to dance with you, ____.”

“I always seem more eager to dance when I’m with you,” you said.

And I always love dancing with you.

“That’s because we know each other’s moves well. We’re in sync no matter how long it’s been.”

Tentatively, you respond, “Maybe we should do it again… more often, this time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. I’ll dance with you forever.”

You and Jungkook went home that night and slept once more in each other’s arms. You noticed a change this time. You felt peaceful, more hopeful. Jungkook didn’t say anything definitive, still, but maybe his heart did.

And you fell into a quiet sleep as soon as Jungkook kissed your temple. This time, his kiss was more intentional, more heartfelt, like he never wants to let you go.

Not again.

You woke up the next morning still reeling from the dance you shared with Jungkook. Always the romantic, you thought as you shook your head. Usually, Jungkook was already up and about before you even opened one eye, but life continues to surprise you.

Jungkook was sitting on the bed, drawing on his iPad. You couldn’t believe it at first— you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and looked at your own phone for the time. It was 8 o’clock and Jungkook was drawing.

The minute you moved, Jungkook was attentive. He stopped drawing as he turned to you to mumble a good morning.

“Good morning to you, too. What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Oh, I woke up earlier—”

Cutting him off, you teased, “You always do.”

Jungkook chuckled, the crinkles in around his eyes so evident, so endearing, “Yeah. Um… I just— the morning light through the window was just so beautiful and I had to draw it.”

“You drew a sunrise at 8 o’clock?”

You rolled your eyes as Jungkook said matter-of-factly, “Actually, 6 o’clock… but no, I didn’t draw the sunrise, not exactly.”

“Then what did you draw?”

Instead of responding, Jungkook gave you his iPad. You realized Jungkook drew you. Jungkook used digital watercolor brushes to paint a picture of you sleeping with your bedroom window behind you. Sunlight accentuated the side of your face, expression tranquil.

“It’s not finished yet, I need to fill in some of the—“

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.”

“You always say that, ____.”

“Because your works are beautiful. Every single one of them,” you couldn’t stop admiring Jungkook’s work. You felt your throat constrict once more, emotions starting to take over. This isn’t the first time Jungkook drew you, but it’s definitely the first time you felt something different after seeing his art— a love that continues to blossom, a love for Jungkook that never withered. For the past few weeks, you felt like you were slowly coming to terms with you and him being just best friends, but after last night, you were starting to backslide.

You will always love Jungkook no matter what— you know that now. Maybe not in the way you want, but Jungkook will continue to have a special hold on your heart that no one else can replace.

“Thank you for this, Gguk-ah. Can we print and frame this? When you’re done, that is.”

“Of course, ____. I’m glad you like it.”

One of the things you and Jungkook appreciate about the apartment is the silence because it’s never an awkward one. In silence, you’re both comfortable— awkward and pain and everything else in between. In the shared space, you and Jungkook are free to love one another.

In silence, you also hear each other’s hunger. You giggled as Jungkook turned beet red. After all these years of living together, Jungkook still tended to be embarrassed around you. One of the many adorable Jeon Jungkook traits that you love.

“That’s my cue to make breakfast.”

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair before pocketing your phone. Jungkook didn’t move an inch. You didn’t think much of it, but just as you were about to walk out the door, Jungkook called out to you and scrambled to his feet.

Mornings with Jungkook more often than not are calm, but when you saw Jungkook walk up the short distance to where you were standing, his gaze so strong, your heart began to race. Because you were standing too close to each other, you felt Jungkook take a deep breath before uttering the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“Don’t leave me.”

At first, you thought you heard wrong. A few seconds later your brain told you that maybe it was Jungkook’s way of saying that he wanted you both to stay in bed a little while longer because after all, it was a Sunday.

But then a third thought came to you, the most dreaded one— what if?

“S-say that again.”

It was physically impossible for Jungkook to get even closer to you. The wide smile drawn on his face made all the difference.

“Don’t leave me.”

Like a bucket of cold water doused on you, you couldn’t believe what Jungkook was really trying to tell you. Your childhood best friend, the man of your dreams. The one person who will move mountains for you without being asked is trying to tell you something you longed to hear.

“Say that again… o-one more time.”

Tears threatened to flow from your sparkling eyes and Jungkook was quick to hold you small face in his hands, “____. Please… don’t ever leave me.”

You struggled not to cry so much upon finally understanding what Jungkook was really trying to say. You wanted to respond to Jungkook’s plea, but all that came out was a sob. Jungkook peppered your face with soft kisses down to your jaw. You found yourself holding on to Jungkook, grip like a vice. You don't want to let him go. You will never.

Not again.

You tried your best to properly respond this time, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I will never, ever leave you.” You ran your knuckles down Jungkook’s face, “I was just going to make us breakfast because you’re hungry.”

Jungkook laughed at how you could still manage to make an intimate moment so endearing. He held your wrist and kissed the palm of your hand before leaning in to finally kiss you full on your lips. His kiss was tentative at first until he decided to be bolder, silently asking you to let him in. You readily gave Jungkook access to kiss you even deeper. Like wildfire, heat spreads throughout your body— this is what it feels like to kiss Jungkook without reservation. This is what it feels like to kiss your best friend, no holds barred.

Overwhelmed with affection, you felt yourself being lifted by Jungkook and your legs automatically cling to his waist. The position gave him an even better angle to kiss the person he has longed for almost all his life, “How long, Jungkook? How long have you really liked me?”

You didn’t think Jungkook would immediately understand what you were trying to ask, “Since that day I asked you to dance with me under the rain.”

Jungkook saw the look of recognition in your eyes. He knew you knew what he was referring to. “I have always been in love with you, ____. I just… I was so scared of you rejecting me that I thought it was best if I kept my feelings to myself. I tried dating other people because I thought maybe that would help me get to know others better.”

And as if Jungkook could read your mind, he kissed your forehead before talking again.

“I don’t regret kissing you that night… I was drunk, but I was sober enough to know and remember what I said. We broke up because she told me I was always distracted. I always thought of you everywhere we went. She told me I never really moved on… that I still call out your name even when I was with someone else. When you told me no then, I knew it was my fault for not thinking things through. It was my mistake that I didn’t communicate with you better, ____. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a lot of words to respond with, not after that speech from Jungkook so you only asked ever so meekly, “And Mia?”

“I told her we were better off as friends. She took it quite well than I expected. I think deep down, she knew too.”

“Knew what?”

“That I was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you.”

“Do you really have to use big adjectives?”

Jungkook shrugged and chuckled, “Makes for good conversation. I’m trying to communicate better, remember?”

It was your turn to chuckle and lean your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, ____. I put you through so much pain and I just let it happen.”

You shook your head, wanting to let Jungkook know this wasn’t all on him.

“If anything, you have always made me so happy, Jungkook. I don’t get to show you how much all the time.”

“Can we start over?” Jungkook looked at you, full of hope.

“I would love that.”

“I love you, ____.”

My best friend in this entire world, whom I love.

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

My best friend in this entire world, who loves me back.

Your hotteok was already paid for by Jungkook before you even had the chance to pay for it yourself. “It’s all taken care of,” Jungkook said.

Both of you were already hungry from running so you decided to eat right there under the hotteok stand. You could see a black car parked across the street and assumed that it must be Mr. Hong-sik. You both ate in silence for a while, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain until you felt Jungkook tugging your sleeve.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come on, ____”

“Where are we going?”

“There!”

You looked to where Jungkook was pointing with his finger. There was nothing there but the school.

“You want to go back to where we came from?”

“Not really. School is boring,” Jungkook mused and before you knew it, you were being pulled in the middle of pouring rain.

“What are you doing, Jungkook? We are going to get wet!”

“We already are, ____! Come on!”

You both had to shout over the steady noise of the rain. You realized Jungkook wasn’t kidding— he was really under the rain, in the middle of the school’s wide, open space, waiting for you to join him.

“You are insane, Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted, but he just grinned that much harder. He took both your hands and led you to jump and dance in the rain.

“Maybe I am, but it’s fun to dance in the rain with someone else!”

You felt so glad to be living the same time with someone as Jungkook after that day.

The day you will forever be grateful for.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #bts au #mwillow: perhaps love #bts fanfiction

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fleming-o · 25 days

Text

Quiet after the roar

Mapi & Ingrid X ADHDTeen Reader

A/N: i’ve delt with this type of feelings for a while now so it was definitely something that was hard to write about but i hope you enjoy

TW: over stimulated

1.6k words

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The stadium was alive, every corner bursting with color and sound. Red and blue flags waved in the stands, fireworks exploded overhead, and the Champions League trophy glinted under the stadium lights.

At first, I had tried to keep up, jumping with the others, shouting until my throat burned. The sheer excitement of the night, the way everyone was celebrating, felt like it was meant to be exhilarating. But now, it was like every little thing was clawing at my senses.

I scanned the field, trying to find a familiar face. Ingrid was near the edge of the pitch, chatting with some staff and smiling brightly. I needed to get to her, but the crowd around me felt like a wall of noise and motion. Each step was a struggle, my legs feeling heavy as I fought to push through the throng of celebrating teammates and fans.

I finally reached Ingrid, clutching her arm as she turned to face me. Her expression shifted from amusement to concern as she took in my pale face and trembling hands. “Ingrid,” I managed to say, my voice barely audible over the cacophony. “I—I can’t handle this. It’s too much. Everything’s closing in on me.”

Ingrid’s eyes softened, and she immediately guided me away from the center of the chaos. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll find a quieter spot. You don’t have to stay in this overwhelming crowd.” Her voice was calm and soothing, cutting through the overwhelming noise like a lifeline.

We navigated through the crowd, Ingrid’s steady presence a comforting anchor. As we moved toward the dimly lit tunnel, the noise began to fade, though it still hummed in the background. Ingrid led me to a bench just inside the tunnel, a small sanctuary from the relentless celebration outside. I sank onto the bench, burying my face in my hands as tears spilled down my cheeks. My chest tightened with every breath, and I tried to steady my racing heart.

Ingrid sat beside me, her presence a quiet strength. She placed a gentle hand on my back, her touch reassuring. “It’s okay to feel this way,” she said softly. “You’ve worked so hard, and it’s perfectly normal to be overwhelmed. Just take deep breaths, one at a time.”

“I just—” I struggled to explain, my voice breaking. “I wanted to be part of the celebration, but it’s just too much. It’s like everything is closing in on me. I didn’t expect it to feel like this.”

Ingrid’s hand rubbed soothing circles on my back. “It’s a lot to take in. You’ve done an amazing job tonight, and it’s okay to need a moment to yourself. Just breathe and let the feeling pass.”

Before I could respond further, Mapi appeared, her expression shifting from concern to gentle understanding as she approached. “Cariño, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth. She took my free hand in hers, her touch grounding and familiar. “You look like you’re having a hard time. We’re here for you.”

Ingrid glanced up at Mapi, and a small, knowing smile passed between them. Ingrid reached over and squeezed Mapi’s hand briefly, a silent exchange of support and reassurance. “Remember when Mapi came back from her injury?” Ingrid said softly. “She was struggling with the pressure and the noise too. We all have moments when things feel overwhelming, but we get through them together.”

Mapi nodded, her gaze filled with empathy. “And you’re not alone in this. Ingrid and I are here to help you, just like we helped each other through tough times. It’s okay to take a step back and catch your breath.”

Ingrid’s hand remained on my back, her touch gentle and steady. “We’re here for you in the same way we support each other. You don’t have to be perfect. You’re allowed to feel however you’re feeling right now.”

“Thanks,” I managed, my voice still shaky. “I just feel like I’m letting everyone down. I should be out there celebrating with everyone.”

Mapi squeezed my hand gently, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You’ve given so much tonight, and it’s perfectly fine to need a break. We’re proud of you, and we’re here to make sure you’re okay.”

Ingrid leaned in closer, her shoulder brushing against mine. “You’re not letting anyone down. This moment is huge, but it doesn’t mean you have to handle everything perfectly. We all have our moments.”

“I just didn’t expect it to be so... intense,” I said, struggling to find the right words. “I thought I’d be fine, but it’s just... too much.”

Mapi smiled at Ingrid, her eyes softening with affection. “Ingrid has always been my rock, and tonight, I want to be yours. We’re a team, and that means we support each other, no matter what.”

Ingrid placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, her voice tender. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. We can head back out when you’re ready. And if you need a break again, we’ll be right here.”

With their gentle encouragement, I found the strength to stand up, letting Mapi and Ingrid guide me back to the pitch. The noise was still there, but with Mapi’s arm around my shoulders and Ingrid by my side, it felt a little more manageable.

As we rejoined the celebration, I could see the smiles and cheers of my teammates, the joy of the crowd, and the dazzling lights that seemed less blinding now. Mapi leaned close, her voice warm and reassuring. “You’re doing great, cariño,” she whispered, giving me a comforting squeeze. Ingrid nodded beside her, her eyes filled with pride and love.

Together, we rejoined the team, and even though the noise and lights were still overwhelming, I felt stronger with Mapi and Ingrid by my side. The way they looked at me, the gentle touch of their hands—it made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this chaotic moment.

As the night went on, Ingrid and Mapi stayed close, their presence a constant source of comfort. When I needed a break, they were right there, ready to offer a hug or a reassuring word. They were like parents in this moment, guiding and supporting me through the highs and lows of this incredible night.

The Champions League victory was a triumph that would stay with me forever, not just because of the trophy, but because of the support I received from Mapi and Ingrid. With them by my side, the celebration became a shared experience, one filled with love, understanding, and the reassurance that no matter how overwhelming things got, I was never truly alone.

---

#mapi leon #barca femeni #ingrid engen #woso soccer #womens champion #champions league #woso x reader

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pretzel-box · 1 month

Text

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO URBANSHADE

Word count: 3,3k

Tags: GN!reader, Graphic mention of surgery and experiments on a human body

Summary: You get hired by Urbanshade, thanks to your father, but every start has its obstacles. And some obstacles might feel deeper than they should be.

The time on the wall clock showed it was just a few minutes past noon. Warm sunlight gently crept into the waiting room through the tall panoramic windows of the building. A quick glance to the side, catching a glimpse of the clock, was enough to tell you that it would still be a few moments before it was time to move from the comfort of the leather chair you were currently sitting on. Your freshly disinfected hands clung nervously to your phone as you swiftly scrolled through the list of contacts you had saved over time. You were so focused that it startled you slightly when another caller ID popped up on the bright screen, displaying the picture of your father's face.

This particular man had called you a lot lately, sticking his nose into your business after you dared to ask him for a tiny favor, hoping he would help since you are his beloved only child. But one thing you didn't expect from him at that specific moment was that he would take the opportunity to call you, considering that he was somewhere on the ocean.

He works as a high-class businessman, primarily sponsoring a company called Urbanshade. You didn't know much about them, but your dad mentioned something about how they specialize in underwater mining with some high-tech inventions. This explained his temporary stay on one of Urbanshade's ships, where they were testing and showcasing another new underwater mining robot of some sort, called Trenchbleeder. Your dad had funded the whole project over the past few months, so he was more than excited to see how his money was being put to good use.

"Did they call you yet?" Despite the slight static, the seagulls, and the waves in the background, you could make out the strict tone in his voice. Of course, he was curious. You had asked your dad if he knew someone who would hire you, his child. And naturally, the first thing he applied you for was a position at one of Urbanshade's research facilities. They weren't really looking for new employees in the first place, but your dad was very close to the higher-ups, so he bought the job for you. The fact that he paid the company to hire you made your stomach twist in discomfort, but it was too late to turn back and say no. "I risked a lot by doing that for you."

He referred to the payment he had made on your behalf, and you could feel the pressure he had placed on your shoulders.

You nodded, even though your dad couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm at their building, sitting in the waiting room. We're signing the contract today." You tried to sound confident, but you knew your dad could see right through your facade. "They should be calling me into the office soon."

Your name was called loudly through the room before your dad could reply, and he would probably have given you another warning not to mess it up for his reputation's sake. "Sorry, Dad, it's time."

You ended the call with a swift push of the red button, putting your phone on mute so nothing would distract you during the meeting with one of the higher-ups at Urbanshade. The lady at the reception told you where to go, and another employee guided you to a glass room, where a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit was seated. His arms were crossed, and the way he scanned your application papers made your stomach turn.

The man must have noticed your little stare from the other side of the glass wall because he looked up from the file, and it wasn't hard to miss the coy smile on his lips. The previous expression on his face was quickly replaced with a more welcoming one. "Ah, we finally meet. Your father has already told me a good deal about you."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to work for your company, Mr. Wiltshire." First impressions count, especially at a company like Urbanshade. So you took the opportunity to present yourself in the best possible light, even if it meant pretending to be something you're not—in this case, motivated and interested. Your hand almost raised itself to offer a polite and respectful handshake.

"I assure you, we are the ones who are honored to welcome you to our team. Welcome to Urbanshade."

A few months passed after Urbanshade recruited you, and it didn't take long for you to get the hang of all the small details involved in your job at the luxurious office—details like how the overpriced coffee machine worked, how to sort the endless stacks of paper files, and even how to avoid getting on your new boss's bad side. At this point, you'd even admit it feels like being a well-paid version of an intern since your higher-ups only trusted you with minor tasks so far.

Despite the simplicity and comfort of the tasks, you volunteered more than once for harder assignments, showing your most motivated side in the hope of getting a little more action in your otherwise boring life. But every single time, Mr. Wiltshire blocked you off with a polite smile and a shake of his head. "You're not ready yet."

It was frustrating; you felt there was more behind it than just a lack of skills, but you couldn't force your way into the deeper levels of the job without risking ruining it all for yourself.

A high-pitched female voice suddenly pulled you out of your regular daydreams, making you aware that you were indeed not alone at the moment. "Ah, look who's here!" Your black-haired co-worker beamed at you with the fakest smile you had ever seen, making you raise your eyebrow slightly. The action didn't go unnoticed by her, and you could feel her sharp acrylic nails digging uncomfortably into your left shoulder. "Be a sweetheart," she started again, leaning in from behind and speaking directly into your ear, "and take care of my files too, alright?" She no longer tried to hide her snarky tone and instead showed you her true nasty attitude. "We don't want Mr. Wiltshire to see how much you slack off at work, right, hon?" The pain slowly disappeared as she lifted her hand from your shoulder, wiping it off on her expensive business blazer. A glance over your shoulder to meet her gaze was enough.

Her smug smile hit a nerve deep inside you, but you swallowed your newfound anger like the smarter person and just nodded without a word. In the end, it wasn't worth the drama, and maybe you could use the opportunity to score some extra credit points with your boss if he saw you doing some well-executed extra work.

The fake woman left the moment you tried to open your mouth to give her a straightforward answer, leaving you behind like some worthless object in the middle of the office. By this point, it wasn't really offensive to you since you strongly disliked that woman for her weird attitude toward you, and every second without her was surely a good second. After watching her leave and get into the elevator at the end of the hall, you turned around too and slowly made your way to the coffee machine in the plain break room, pouring yourself a nice cup of dark liquid into your favorite mug. You would surely need it if you had to put in some extra hours to get the work done. With newfound motivation, you left the room and headed to your co-worker's personal office.

It was a neat space inside a glass room, furnished with minimalist-style furniture and a nice office chair made of quality leather. Some of the woman's personal items were scattered across the mahogany table, and your lips curled up as you felt the smooth surface of the table, thinking you could earn one of those fancy offices yourself if you worked hard enough.

Then you saw the stack of brown files on the table. It was in an unacceptable, messy state, with paper corners sticking out from all sides and some mysterious stains on the front covers. Yet, the weirdly pleasant smell of cigarettes and old paper hit your nose, filling you with a strange, comforting feeling all over again. Your eyes also didn't fail to notice the bright yellow note on the stack, with a hastily written message in black ink:

"Please sort by Thursday night. Return Z-13 file to higher-up when done."

Reading it gave you a sudden boost of excitement, seeing that there must be an interesting file usually in the hands of higher-ranked people. You didn't question it but rather saw it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the business that Urbanshade conducts, sensing a way to escape the boring intern tasks and join them on the front lines, maybe even leading a mining operation in the exciting underwater world.

Your hands took the small note from the files, discarding it without a care into the bin, assuming your co-worker was aware of it since she knew about the work the files required. It was another simple job of sorting papers and making sure everything was in its place before returning them to the basement archives below the building.

The warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee replaced the smell in the small office as you took a careful sip from your favorite mug. The dark liquid was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the tension of the day. Your fingers traced the rim of the warm cup absentmindedly as you scanned the chaotic stack of files on the mahogany desk.

Determined to make a good impression by sorting through the files with precision, you placed your mug at the edge of the desk, within easy reach. You started to carefully separate the documents, making piles according to their categories, when your mind began to wander.

You reached for another file, but just as you were about to grab it, your elbow knocked against your mug. Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror as the mug tipped over, spilling hot coffee across the desk. The dark liquid cascaded like a wave, soaking the neatly sorted papers in seconds.

"No, no, no!" you gasped, frantically grabbing at the files, trying to salvage what you could. But it was too late—the coffee had already seeped into most of the pages, leaving large brown stains that spread and blurred the ink in matter of seconds. The once crisp documents were now soggy and wrinkled, some of the text smearing into an illegible mess.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the ruined files. A wave of panic surged through you. These weren’t just any papers; they were official documents, meant to be returned to the higher-ups. And that one file—about something called Z-13—it was supposed to go directly to someone important. You remembered the note and its simple instructions, now crumpled in the waste bin, and felt a sinking dread.

Grabbing a handful of napkins from the small break room drawer, you desperately tried to blot the coffee from the papers, but the evidence of your mistake would be painfully clear, no matter how hard you tried to save the files. The edges of some files were curling up, the ink bleeding out, and some of the pages were beyond saving. The more you wiped, the worse it seemed to get.

You slumped into the leather chair, your hands trembling as you stared at the coffee-stained disaster in front of you. What would Mr. Wiltshire say? Worse, what would your father think if he found out? The pressure to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of handling the job, suddenly felt crushing.

With a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe you could reprint the damaged documents, or perhaps there were backups somewhere in the archives. You needed a plan, and fast. But first, you had to get rid of the evidence of your mistake—before anyone saw the mess you had made.

Forcing yourself to think clearly, you carefully gathered the soaked files, praying that you could come up with a solution before anyone found out about the spill. And then you saw it, the important file with big red letters on the cover, slightly drenched in warm coffee. The damage seemed to be at a visible minimum, making you slightly relax despite all the panic in your body.

Your finger traced over the paper cover before picking the file up from the messy table. It was slightly heavy, and as you felt the weight of the file in your hands, a ripple of curiosity surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets might be concealed within these pages. But the urge to know won out, and you carefully opened the front cover, revealing a neatly typed summary that seemed to offer a glimpse into the contents of the file.

The first thing that caught your eye was a series of police reports, meticulously detailed and organized, each one stamped with the official seal of Urbanshade. They were followed by a set of photographs, their glossy surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room. The first image you saw was a clear mugshot of a young man. His face was striking, not in the sense of beauty, but in the way it conveyed a deep weariness, as if the weight of the world had been pressing down on him for far too long. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and they censored his eyes, leaving them to your imagination.

His expression was a frown in each of the photos, a look of quiet defiance mixed with something else—something that sent a strange sensation through your chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly, but a deep unease that you couldn’t quite place. There was a coldness in his expression, yet also a flicker of something more, something human and raw, buried beneath the layers of exhaustion and anger.

You turned the page, your fingers brushing over the edges of the police reports that followed. The papers were old, some of them yellowing with age, but the text was still clear. Your eyes skimmed the lines, taking in the grim details of a murder case that had been closed years ago. The words felt heavy, each sentence a stark reminder of the horror that had unfolded.

The reports detailed a series of brutal killings—nine victims in total. The descriptions were uncensored, each one more gruesome than the last. As you read, a chill ran down your spine. The level of violence, the cold, methodical nature of the crimes, it all painted a picture of someone deeply disturbed, someone with a darkness that ran far deeper than you could have imagined.

And there, at the center of it all, was the young man from the photos. His name was typed in bold letters at the top of the report: Sebastian Solace. The name seemed almost ironic—“Solace” suggesting peace or comfort, while the man it belonged to was associated with such unspeakable acts.

You stared at the name for a long moment, trying to reconcile the tired, defiant face in the photos with the monstrous deeds described in the reports. The file mentioned psychological evaluations, interviews, and even some speculation about his motives, but none of it seemed to add up. There was a note in the margin, scrawled in a hurried hand, suggesting that the case was far from closed, despite what the official records stated.

A photo paperclipped to the back of the file caught your attention—a grainy image of a dark, empty room. The caption underneath simply read, „Day of Execution“ The picture showed the electric chair that they used in Solace his execution, but any sign of his presence was missing in it.

Then you turned the pages and the police reports changed into a large series of lab reports, endless lists of medication and a collection of pictures that left you in a nauseous state.

You read and read for what felt like hours, your eyes moving mechanically over the pages as the horrors of Sebastian Solace's life unfolded before you. Each detail seemed more grotesque than the last, painting a picture of a man who had been systematically stripped of his humanity. It wasn’t just the surgeries—those brutal, invasive operations where limbs were removed and reattached like parts of a machine. It was the utter disregard for the person he once was, the complete and total annihilation of his identity, his very soul.

The deeper you delved into the file, the more your hands began to tremble. You could feel your stomach churning as you flipped through page after page of graphic images and cold, clinical reports. The pictures were the worst—high-resolution photographs of Sebastian’s disfigured body, his skin pale and sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights of a laboratory. There were stitches crisscrossing his limbs, metal tools embedded in his flesh like cruel mockeries of life-saving instruments. His eyes—those once defiant, tired eyes—were vacant now, lifeless, as though the man he had once been was already dead.

Your breath hitched as you turned to a page detailing an experiment labeled "Procedure 17-C." The accompanying photograph showed a close-up of Sebastian's chest, where wires and tubes had been inserted into his heart, his blood replaced with a thick, unnatural fluid. The caption beneath it coldly described the experiment’s purpose—to test the viability of synthetic blood in deep-sea environments. The thought of what he had endured, of how much pain and suffering had been inflicted upon him in the name of science, made your vision blur with tears.

You forced yourself to continue reading, even as nausea clawed at your throat. The reports became increasingly more deranged, describing how Sebastian’s body had been treated like a puzzle, dismantled and reassembled in ways that defied all logic and ethics. The word "specimen" appeared frequently, a stark reminder that to his captors, Sebastian was nothing more than a test subject, an object to be used and discarded.

It was around page 35 that you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the file aside and staggered to the bin next to you, emptying the contents of your stomach. The bile burned your throat, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing, but the images lingered in your mind, imprinted there like a brand.

Sebastian Solace—the name now felt like a curse, a grim reminder of the horrors that could befall anyone who crossed paths with Urbanshade. And the Hadal Blackside... it was no longer just a place. It was a living nightmare, a twisted abyss where humanity was stripped away,

The weight of the file in your hands felt unbearable as you reluctantly picked it up again, your fingers trembling as you closed the cover. The secrets contained within were like a lead weight on your soul, pressing down on you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. When you finally set the file back on the table, it was as though you were laying down a burden too great for any one person to bear.

But even as you tried to distance yourself from what you had just read, the haunted eyes of Sebastian Solace refused to leave you. They stayed with you, those hollow, lifeless eyes, staring back at you from the depths of your memory. They were a reminder that in the Hadal Blackside, there were things far more terrifying than the dark waters and the lurking creatures within. There might were men—once human, now monsters—who had been twisted by the same forces that now ensnared you.

You were tangled in their web now, caught in a nightmare from which there was no waking. And as you sat there, in the dim light of that office room, you realized that the true horror wasn’t what had been done to Sebastian. It was the knowledge that, in time, the same fate could await you, if someone found out what you saw.

#sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace #sebastian solace fanfiction #AsAboveSoBelow #sebastian solace fanfic #sebastian solace x gender neutral reader

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