#and i was awake w my eyes just wide open in the dark and i make eye contact w this swedish guy

[swallowtail-ageha]

In 2024 for some reason every time i have to go through physically demeaning trips (interrail, greece, now the route) my period comes which has made me master the art of cleaning blood stained underwear without leaving any traces in under 2 minutes

[pathologicalreid]

what goes bump in the night | s.r.

in which Spencer's struggling with violent nightmares after prison, and you find yourself on the receiving end of his tossing and turning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: reader gets whapped in the face. don't like don't read, please. blood, prison arc, black eye, a lot of guilt. therapy. word count: 1.89k a/n: (this wasn't a request but shout out to the anon who told me i had to repost this after i deleted it) this is some dark shit but i have to admit i do think about the possibility a lot. take care while reading my loves.

Several years in the BAU had inadvertently trained you to wake up at any slight movement or noise. While some might call it paranoia, you considered it to be a finely tuned skill.

Spencer didn’t sleep talk before prison, and even now, he only mumbled in his sleep when he was having a nightmare. Normally, he didn’t move, he just tossed his head around and begged for whoever he was seeing in his nightmare to just hold on. Tonight was different, he sounded like he was pleading for someone to leave him alone, and he was thrashing more than usual.

You knew there was a risk of waking him, but you reached out and gently shook his shoulder anyway. “Spence,” you whispered, not wanting to hurtle him out of his darkened dreamscape.

There was no response. No sign of him coming even close to waking up.

His thrashing became worse, and his mumbling became even less intelligible like something was covering his mouth in his dream. Reaching out from your side of the bed, you tried to grab his hand, hoping it would be something that he could use to ground himself. Gripping his hand, you said his name again, more forcefully this time.

The pain didn’t even register at first. The first thing you recognized was the sensation of having something stuck in your eye, a small twinge in the outer corner that sent your hands flying to the side of your face.

Oh.

With your uninjured eye, you looked up to see Spencer, awake. Breathing heavy, sure, but awake. Very slowly, his breathing slowed, but he had seemingly forgotten that he was sharing a bed with you until you felt liquid trickling from your nose and scrambled to the bathroom before you got blood all over the sheets.

His wide eyes followed your shadow through the bedroom, putting the convoluted puzzle pieces together as he came out from under his nightmare-induced fugue state only to find a different type of panic. You faintly heard him curse and rustle the sheets as you shut the bathroom door harder than you intended.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your right eye was tearing up as a result of the impact, and your nose was trickling blood down your face. Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on the counter, you pressed them to your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes to the sound of your heart beating through your chest.

Spencer knocked on the bathroom door, followed by a larger thud that you assumed was him leaning his head against the door. “Can I come in?”

You tried not to sniff, hating the sensation of your nose being covered, you responded, “It’s your bathroom.” Your tone was far too blasé, and Spencer was going to see through it immediately.

“That’s not what I asked,” he told you, a slight tone of desperation ringing through. You knew what he wanted to know; he was asking if you were comfortable with him being in the same room as you – if you’d feel safe with him in the same room as you.

Leaning your head back, you took as deep of a breath as your body would physically allow you before you answered, “Yeah, you can come in.”

Before you had even finished speaking, Spencer had opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light stream into the bedroom, “Fuck,” he murmured when he saw you, “Hey, don’t lean your head back. You don’t want the blood to run down your throat.”

“Okay,” your voice quavered, watching him lift his hands like he wanted to guide your head down until he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands – he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Leaning over the sink, you let coagulated blood fall from your mouth, watching it go down the drain before you looked up at Spencer, who watched on in horror at the mess he had created. “Can you grab more tissues?” You asked him, giving him a job to busy his idle hands.

Instantly, Spencer grabbed a handful of tissues and held them out for you, within your range of motion. Still leaning over the sink, you took the new tissues and held them to your nose, haphazardly dropping the soiled tissue in the basin beneath you. “I don’t… What-“

Cutting him off, you spoke, “Do you still have those ice packs? The first aid ones from last year,” you made a new request, giving him a job to perform so that he wouldn’t apologize to you. He’d apologize until he was blue in the face, but you still wouldn’t know how to respond.

He nodded, crouching in front of one of the cabinets and filtering through a first aid kit, hoping to produce a disposable ice pack for you to place near your eye. With the timidness of a newborn foal, Spencer set the plastic on the counter next to you.

Your boyfriend watched as you carefully peeled the tissues from your face, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, only to quickly replace the tissue when you noticed a trickle of fresh blood making its way down your philtrum. “Aren’t you supposed to pinch it or something?”

“Yes, you can pinch the bridge of your nose to staunch the bleeding,” Spencer said, grabbing your discarded Kleenex and putting them in the garbage bin. He watched intently as you reached up your free hand to pinch your nose, “Does… does it hurt?”

Giving him a quick shake of the head, you met his eyes through the mirror, “I don’t think it’s broken,” you told him, avoiding answering most of his question.

He loosed a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” he murmured, keeping an eye on you as you wondered how terrified he must have been to invoke the name of a deity he didn’t believe in.

Once you were finally able to drop the last of the tissues in the sink, you were faced with an even worse reality. There was no way of escaping the black eye that you already had forming, the tender skin would be further marred with time. “I think it looks worse than it actually is,” you offered meekly, reaching to your side and grabbing the ice pack off of the counter. You popped the center of it before wrapping it in a towel that Spencer had set out for you.

Holding in a hiss as the towel touched your face, you allowed your eyes to wander across the rest of your body. Your shirt had drips of blood on it, but the larger issue was red encrusted all over your face. With the urgency of a sloth, Spencer took a different towel from the drawer and ran it under the tap, wringing it out before holding it up, “May I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, thankful for your newly cleared airway as you extended your neck, giving him the access he needed to wipe the blood from your chin and neck. “Spence-“

“I’m so sorry,” he interjected, his movements faltering as he let his hand drop to your shoulder.

You shook your head, crinkling the icepack in your hand, you blinked rapidly, hoping to clear your vision. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” you told him, it was the truth. He had obviously been having a violent nightmare, and you grabbing him had likely triggered a fight or flight response.

Spencer sighed dejectedly, “I burst a blood vessel in your eye. I’m so…” his voice trailed off in the middle of his sentence, leaving you unsure whether he was going to apologize again or go off on a self-deprecating tirade. “I hit you,” he breathed, abruptly yanking his hands away from you, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.” Setting the washcloth on the counter, he put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from you.  

Leaning against the bathroom counter, you wished for an inkling – anything you could say to him that would prevent his auto-villainization. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. Saying you hit me sounds so…”

“Wrong? That’s because it is,” he said harshly, and you could almost see the storm of self-loathing that was brewing in his mind.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on the icepack before looking up at him, “but it makes it sound like it was intentional. You didn’t hit me, you… thwapped me.”

Spencer loosed a shaky sigh, “I’m not so sure that’s better.”

“Would you prefer bonked?” You proposed, looking at him and hoping for a small smile, but being disappointed when you were met with the same haunted expression. “It was an accident,” you insisted, reaching out your unoccupied hand and taking his hand in yours, “I am fine.”

He scoffed dismissively, “I should have had a better handle on myself.”

You frowned, “You were asleep, Spence. You couldn’t have had a better handle on yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, and you’re taking care of me now,” you told him softly.

“But you’re scared of it happening again,” he challenged you.

When he had come home, you knew he had been changed. Not necessarily for the better or for worse, but he was most certainly changed. You had heard everything in bits and pieces, what had happened in Millburn, what had happened with Cat, but nothing had prepared you for the harshness of your new reality. He was capable of harming others, but that didn’t mean you thought he’d hurt you again. “You’re disappointed in yourself, but you don’t believe you get to feel that way. You’re projecting onto me,” you told him, taking your hand back.

Spencer flinched back, “Don’t profile me.”

“You, Spencer Reid, would never knowingly lay a hand on me,” you insisted, you believed it. You believed it even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The two of you sat in an angst-filled silence before he stood up straight, gently starting to usher you into the bedroom. Handing you a t-shirt from your drawer to change into, you could see his internal struggle as he grabbed a pillow from the bed and made his way toward the door.

Despondently, your shoulders slumped forward, “Where are you going?” You asked softly, hating to watch him leave your shared bedroom over this.

“I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m gonna… I’ll try to set up a meeting with my therapist in the morning. I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you with wide, sad eyes, “You’re okay?”

Your heart ached at his voice as you nodded, opening your arms for him and letting out a sigh of relief when he returned to you for a hug. Reaching your free hand behind him, you rubbed his back comfortingly, “We’re going to make it through this, mark my words.”

He nodded in affirmation as he pulled away, “For my own peace of mind, I’ll sleep on the couch for a while.”

You accepted it, knowing that he needed to deal with this in his own way, he closed the door behind him, effectively leaving you alone. Laying back on the pillows with your icepack still clutched to your face, you sighed, wondering how long it had been since your boyfriend felt any semblance of peace of mind.

[paddockletters]

late-night talkings | oscar piastri

paring: oscar piastri x reader

summary: Late at night, unable to sleep, you and Oscar dive into a heartfelt conversation about racing, the future, and life beyond the track. As memories resurface and dreams unfold, you realize just how much the future holds for both of you.

author's note: first fic with oscarrrr, i hope you liked it .. Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

It was well past 1 AM, and neither of you could sleep. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the dim light barely enough to push back the darkness. You lay next to Oscar, staring at the ceiling, each of you lost in your thoughts.

His sigh broke the silence first, and you turned your head slightly to see him lying on his back, eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice was low, barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

“Nope,” you replied, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “You?”

Oscar chuckled lightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Not even close. My mind won’t shut off.”

You shifted closer to him, the blanket sliding down as you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. “What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture.

“Everything,” he finally said, his voice soft. “Racing, the future, us…”

You tilted your head, a small frown forming on your face. “What about us?”

Oscar let out a sigh, his eyes flickering over to meet yours. “I’ve been thinking… about where I want to be in a few years. About what happens after racing. And I don’t know, it’s just been on my mind a lot lately.”

You paused, taking in his words. It wasn’t the first time you had these late-night conversations, but this one felt heavier, more serious.

“What do you see?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I see more races, obviously. Hopefully a few wins,” he added with a small smile, but there was something deeper behind it. “But after that... I don’t know. I just know I want you there with me, wherever that is.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and comforting. You remembered a conversation you'd had early in his career, before everything got so intense, before the constant travel, the pressure, the sleepless nights like this one.

It was his rookie season, and everything had been so new—so exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. You were standing in the paddock, watching him from the sidelines as he navigated the chaos of his first race weekend. You could still remember the way his face lit up when he saw you after the race, his excitement bubbling over despite the exhaustion that lined his features.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he had said, pulling you into a hug. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the day. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far, but here we are.”

“I always knew you would,” you had replied, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “You were born for this.”

Now, lying next to him in the dark, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory. So much had changed since then, but in many ways, things were still the same. You were still by his side, through the highs and the lows, the wins and the losses. And he was still the same Oscar, even if the weight of the world sometimes rested on his shoulders.

“What about kids?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Do you ever think about that?”

Oscar’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he laughed, the sound soft and genuine. “You’re really asking me about kids at 2 AM?”

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Why not? You’re the one who brought up the future.”

He sighed, his expression turning thoughtful. “I do think about it sometimes. Not anytime soon, obviously, but... yeah. I could see us with kids one day.”

There was a moment of silence, and then he added with a teasing grin, “They’d have to be faster than me, though. I can’t have slow kids.”

You burst out laughing, playfully swatting his arm. “You and your racing. I swear, you’ll be teaching them to drive before they can even walk.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous sparkle you loved so much. “Absolutely. I’ll get them in a kart as soon as they’re old enough. Gotta keep the Piastri legacy going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew. It was moments like this—these small, quiet conversations—that reminded you of why you loved him so much. Despite the craziness of his career, despite the pressure and the constant traveling, he was still the same goofy, thoughtful guy you fell in love with.

“Do you ever wonder what we’d be doing if you weren’t racing?” you asked after a beat of silence.

Oscar turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But then I think… this is where we’re supposed to be. I don’t think I’d be happy doing anything else. And I like to think you wouldn’t either.”

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re right. I can’t imagine a life without you doing what you love.”

His hand found yours under the covers, and he squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re here, you know. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache in the best way, and you leaned in closer, resting your head on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The conversation lulled, but the silence was comfortable, filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. You lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the future stretching out ahead of you in a way that felt both daunting and exciting all at once.

But eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, and you could feel Oscar’s breathing start to even out as he drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a little while longer, your mind swirling with thoughts of everything you had talked about—the future, kids, racing. It was all so uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared.

As sleep finally began to claim you, you whispered into the quiet, “Goodnight, Oscar.”

In the dim light, you felt him smile, his arms tightening around you as he mumbled sleepily, “Goodnight, love.”

[revasserium]

promise (to be holy)

rafayel; 1,745 words; fluff, fluff w/out plot, established relationship, kinda?spoilers for raf's lvl 55 affection story, no "y/n", genderless!reader, very suggestive but not actually nsfw

summary: oh, didn't you know? promises are sacred things beneath the ocean...

a/n: @syneilesis thank u for being my lad screaming buddy; this one's for you and for raf the little slut

The ocean has always been a certain kind of poetry, hasn’t it? You smile to yourself as you blink yourself awake and the world is the size of your sunlit bedroom. Rafayel’s breaths are even, his lashes so dark and long they remind you of a certain kind of midnight — the kind that catches starlight in her hair and has magic in her fingertips.

The kind of midnight that inspires wonder.

“If you really are that enamored with me… I can paint you a portrait. It’ll last longer.”

You blush, even as Rafayel’s eyes flicker open to catch yours, his lips pulled into a teasing, sleep-heavy smile.

“I — I wasn’t staring. I just woke up too and you were blocking my sun.”

You try to turn away, but Rafayel is faster, his arm looping around your middle to pin you to him, his breath warm as it kisses the skin of your bare shoulder. He cocks his head, still blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Oh? Is that so?” he asks, shifting so that your eyes are level. The morning light paints his outline in liquid gold, and from here, the shade of his eyes makes you think of all the secrets the sea might keep from the sky.

“Mhm,” you nod, licking your lips, and watching with some satisfaction, as his eyes flick down to trace the movement. His skin is warm and his fingers soft as they press into the bend of your waist to pull you closer.

“Liar,” he says �� whispers, before he dips down to graze his lips against yours.

You sigh against him, grinning as you curl your fingers into his hair and tug. The way he gasps makes a certain, unnamable hunger surge within you, pushing you forward till you’re pressing him back into the bed, your thighs on either side of his hips.

“Y-you — ngh —” Rafayel hisses as he tips his head back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his fingers inadvertently into your skin. You cock your head — and perhaps it’s the tantalizing line of his neck as he leans back, straining beneath you, or perhaps it’s just the morning light, falling like a lover’s caress across the smooth of his skin, the soft wave of his hair as it splays across the pillow — dark against light.

“Now… who’re you calling a liar?” you ask, flattening your palm slowly against his chest, reveling in the way his stomach tenses beneath you, how his breaths seem to quicken as you lean down and down and down.

“Y-you —” he almost musters up a glare as he hisses, “bullying the weak…” he murmurs as he tries to turn away. You twist his face back towards you with a finger beneath his chin and watch as his eyes go wide.

“Oh? You think this is bullying? But… I haven’t even gotten started yet…” you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate, the way his entire body goes rigid and then soft.

“I — you — I’m not accustomed to the ways of you humans! T-to a Lemurian like me… this is — this is —” The words die on his lips as you lean down to skim your lips along the bend of his neck, dropping phantom kisses on the long line of his collarbone, your fingers still holding his head in place.

“Hm?” you hum, grinning as he arches up into your touch, his fingers digging crescent-moon grooves into your hips and thighs, “this is… what, exactly?”

Rafayel makes a broken, keening noise at the back of his throat as you pull away, a fox-fire smile twisting your lips. You blink down at him, feigning innocence.

“Didn’t you say you were going to tell me all about Lemurian traditions? Why not start now?”

His eyes narrow as he forces himself to look away from you. You can almost feel the heat radiating off him in waves, burning from the tips of his ears all the way to the roots of his hair.

“I — you —” his lashes flutter and you can’t help your own laughter as it bubbles from you.

“C’mon, let’s get up — didn’t you want to go to the paint shop today — oh!”

You make to pull away, swinging your legs off him, but the world tilts as a pair of hands pull you back, and a moment later, you’re being pressed into an ocean of tangled sheets and pillows, Rafayel’s face hovering above yours, his expression caught between annoyance and ill-concealed desire.

“You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish,” he cocks his head, lips drawn into a delightful pout as you try to tug your hand away. He huffs as he pins you down harder, the redness in his cheeks deepening even as he leans in.

“Who said I was starting anything?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him even as he scoffs.

“Words aren’t the only way to make promises, y’know,” he says, and you feel his grip on you loosen. But there’s a tantalizing lilt to his voice that holds you in place, a dark, faraway look in his eyes as he leans back slightly, his gaze grazing down the shape of you, splayed out beneath him.

“Yeah? Then… what’s another way of making a promise?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows as he shifts back to allow you more space. You shift and the pair of you find yourself sitting face to face, the sheets rumpled around you like a white-sand beach, the remnants of the night before scattered in the folds like footsteps in the sand.

He looks at you before his eyes cast downwards. Your fingertips itch toward him and you reach out, brushing aside a stray strand of hair. Quick as a flicker, he catches your hand, pressing his cheek to your palm, eyes falling shut as he sighs.

“There’s… lots of ways to make a promise…” he says, murmuring it against your skin as he turns his face to press a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. You shiver as heat chases up your arm, tingling through your body as you swallow.

You sit there, frozen, as he leans in, slow and slow and slow — till you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

“You see… words are a little harder when you’re underwater, so sometimes we make promises by touching palms —” he turns his hand around yours till your fingers lace, “sometimes… we brush cheeks…” he grins as he leans in further, his cheek brushing by yours.

“And sometimes…” he pulls back ever so slightly, till you feel your own breath catch in your chest. His voice is deep and warm and soft and sweet — tugging you in as the moon on the tide, and you can’t help but wonder at the mysterious forces that might’ve pulled you towards one another in the beginning.

Chance, or perhaps something much less nebulous — like gravity.

Your lips meet like magnets clicking into place, and it’s far from the first time you’ve kissed but somehow here, in the morning light, with the windows of the bedroom thrown open to welcome the sea, the salt hanging solid and heavy in the air, it feels like the first time. You can taste the smile on Rafayel’s lips, can feel the eager way he presses in, tongue sweeping across your lips as you gasp open for him. You feel the weight of his body as he pulls you in, pushes you down, and the gentle give and take of it all somehow rings out against the slow shushing of the rising tides.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. You wonder, briefly, dazedly, if he might’ve been able to go on kissing like that forever. Do Lemurians even need to breathe? What might it be like to kiss like that and never feel the burning ache of oxygen in your lungs? It’s a dizzying thought, and you let yourself linger on it for a second more before Rafayel’s laughter breaks your train of thought.

“What? Was it so good that you’ve gone into shock?”

You blink, shaking your head as you feel heat wash up into your cheeks.

“No! I — I was just wondering… what does a kiss promise, exactly?”

And at this, Rafayel’s cheeks darken again, but he sighs and lowers himself onto the bed next to you, a finger trailing idly along the bend of your ear.

“Well…” he says, “it depends on the kind of kiss.”

You yelp, swatting at him with a pillow as your stomach flips inside you at the implications. His laughter is bright and pure and sweet, but as you both settle down again, he shrugs, pulling you closer to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“But mostly… a kiss just promises that there’ll be another kiss.”

You smile, leaning up to graze your lips against his, “Like that?”

He lets out a soft groan before pulling you in, his lips parting yours, slow and sensuous.

“Yeah… just like that.”

“And so… if you kiss once then…” you press a finger to his lips to stop him from leaning down again, “you’ve gotta keep on kissing? Forever?”

Rafayel grins, tugging away your hand, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

You purse your lips, humming as you feign contemplation. Rafayel scoffs and makes to move away again, but you pull him back, laughing.

“You can’t leave yet! We’ve got a promise to keep, remember?” and with that, you kiss him, and he softens. As he always does.

“I think…” he says, a little breathless as the pair of you sink back into the sheets, “we’ve got a bit more than one promise… but I think we can start with this one…” and he leans in to capture your lips in his, fingers drifting to the skin of your waist. And as the dawning day watches from beyond the window, the ocean shushes itself against a stretch of forgotten beach, water through sand like tangling lovers’ fingers, reaching and holding, pushing and pulling.

And for lovers like that, there will always be promises to keep, and keep, and keep.

pls come talk to me about love and deepspace oh m ygod

[mockerycrow]

could we get “here, you can sleep in my shirt” with neighbor!ghost after the reader gets locked out of her apartment in a thunderstorm maybe? i’m horrible w coming up w ideas but have been EATING UP your works lately!

Downpour (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist

“Here, you can sleep in my shirt.”

A/N: LOOOOKKKKKK i usually keep prompts for events and this one got sent in after i ended the celebration, but i had to do it!!! i also apologize this took so long. i also made this gn, i know you used she/her pronouns but i finished this when i realized 🫠 i’m sorry!

[WARNINGS: none, tension perhaps!]

THE ENTIRE DAY, it had been raining nonstop. The humidity was raising by the hour, making everything sticky and somehow even more wet than it was before. You’d try to wipe your hands dry from the rain, but it’s like you were just spreading the water droplets around, the air so humid as it never gave the water a chance to dry up on its own. It didn’t help that your entire day went to shit, too. Your car ended up breaking down and you missed the bus by just a few minutes, making you late for work. You ended up missing the bud on the way back as well, forcing you to walk to work in the rain, and walk back home in the rain.

Lucky you, your boss wasn’t as mad as you expected them to be.

You shudder as your soaking wet clothes stick to your skin, making your way up a few flights of stairs to your apartment floor. You had goosebumps lining your arms under your soaked shirt, your shoulders uncontrollably shaking as you walked down the hall, tracking wet droplets onto the carpet that probably hasn’t been cleaned in a few years, but has one of those designs that hide the dirt and grime. You hiss quietly in an attempt to distract yourself, your hands patting your pockets for your keys. You grab them and pull them out and you insert the key into the key hole and you turn—but the damn metal breaks, your key successfully snapping in half. Your jaw genuinely drops as you stand there for a moment, a tense, “Are you fucking kidding me?” spilling from your lips.

It’s too late to call the building manager to come along and help you, and it’s definitely too late to call a locksmith of some sort. You know none of your friends or family are awake by this point, either. You curse quietly as you bend at your knees and pitifully attempt to wiggle the broken part of the key out of the deadbolt, you even try to turn the key by lining up the base of the key to the shaft—but of course, it doesn’t work. You’re so focused on your door that you don’t notice your neighbor across the hall has opened his door, watching you in silence for a moment. “Today of all days.” You angrily mutter, pathetically kicking the bottom of your apartment door, as if it’ll magically swing open for your convenience. You hear someone clear their throat and you jolt because it’s late, and you didn’t expect anyone to be around.

You turn around and blink when you meet eyes with your neighbor—Simon. He’s standing in the doorway, one hand grasping his door, the other leaning on the doorframe on the side. He’s a big man—tall and muscular, shoulders broad and wide, torso following and tapering off near his waist. His arms were big too, and no doubt his legs are the same. He has a strong jaw with little stubble, his hair a shabby blonde, paired with some dark brown eyes that certainly tell a story. He had a bunch of noticeable scars, but you weren’t one to ask about that sort of thing. You know he has a tattoo sleeve, but you’ve never been close enough to know the details of said tattoo sleeve. The thing that surprised you the most, though, is that he’s home in the first place. You knew that he worked in the military, although he was pretty private about everything concerning himself so you didn’t know details. During your small interactions, you’ve managed to become friends.

“Hi.” You say sheepishly, coddling your keys in your hand. Simon’s eyes roam your body from head to toe before his lips curl into the most subtle smile. “Got caught in the rain, hm?” He rasps out, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You nod and almost with comedic timing, you begin to shiver again. “Seems you’ve broken your key, too.” Simon adds unhelpfully, moving his hand from the doorframe. You huff and rub your upper arms in an attempt to somehow keep warm whilst dripping water all over the hallway carpet. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Simon huffs, the sound nearing a chuckle as he speaks up. “It’s lieutenant, actually.”

Your eyebrows raise for a moment because Simon actually shared something slightly personal with you—his rank in whatever branch of the military he’s in. “Well.. Lieutenant Obvious,” You begin, your voice coming out as a gentle tremble as the cold hallway isn’t doing you any favors. “It’s nice to see you home safe.” Simon clicks his tongue against the inner of his cheek, his eyes boring into your figure without responding. He seems hesitant, his posture stiff as he scans your face and your body language. Simon makes eye contact with you once again, the air thick with tension until he makes his decision; he slowly opens the door wider and steps out of the way, wordlessly gesturing you to come inside.

You try to hide your total and utter surprise, but it doesn’t last long as you quickly tread into his apartment, seeking warmth. You couldn’t say that you didn’t try to imagine what the inside of his apartment looked like—he always came over to yours. His apartment is fairly blank, but in its own way; it’s homey. Comfortable. It’s one hundred percent Simon. There isn’t really any photos of himself nor his family. There’s a couple of paintings that he’s bought over the years, definitely symbolizing different things you don’t know about him. There’s a couple pairs of shoes on a rack near the front door—some running shoes, a pair of working boots, and a pair of shoes that obviously haven’t been worn in years, judging by the layer of dust covering the toes of the shoes. Otherwise, from what you can judge from standing near his living room, you can tell he keeps everything neat and clean.

You hear the front door shut and lock behind you, and you hear his heavy footsteps begin to approach. “You should get warm. I’ll grab ya a towel. Take a shower, yeah?” His voice is low and nearly rumbling in your own chest as Simon approaches you, and you turn to look at him. He presses his lips into a thin line as he makes eye contact with you again, his eyelids naturally lidded. “I’ll throw your wet clothes in the wash for you in the mornin’.”

You nod and don’t bother to question anything at that time, your skin covered in harsh goosebumps, your clothes no where near the point of drying. “Where’s your bathroom?” Your voice is a bit meek as you speak, the coldness of the water is beginning to get to you. Simon walks over to a clothes basket near the couch, speaking as he does so. “Down the hall, middle door on the left. Door should be open.” You don’t waste any time and you quickly get yourself to his bathroom. You close the door behind you and your hand finds the light switch, flipping it on. His bathroom is a decent size—which is surprising for the size of the apartment. You don’t feel incredibly cramped, which makes sense for Simon.

You peel the soaked clothing off of you and they land on the floor with a gross slopping sound, causing you to wince. You decide to wring the remaining water out of your clothes into the bathtub before putting them in a pile on the bathroom floor, as Simon doesn’t have a clothes hamper in there. You put your phone on the sink counter, and luckily you managed to keep it dry. Being stripped from your sopping clothes, your skin is cold to the touch, but you begin to feel yourself naturally warm up. You draw back his shower curtains and manage to figure out how to operate his shower—you always found other peoples bathtubs and showers to be puzzles to use. You turn the knob a couple of times and feel the water that’s splattering down from the shower head into the tub, and you step into the tub after you deem the temperature the right one.

You close the shower curtain and you huddle yourself under the water that’s beating down onto you—it nearly burns as it’s running against your cold skin, but you grind your teeth and bare it because in reality, it isn’t that hot. You’re just incredibly chilly. You make sure to put your head under the stream of water too, and you’re enjoying the warmth so much you jolt when you hear Simon’s knocking at the bathroom door. Before you can answer, you hear the door open—but just a smidge. “I ‘ave a towel for you here,” Simon announces, raising his volume a bit so you can hear him over the water. “I’ll hang it on the towel rack.”

You shout a quick thank you over the water, hear him shuffle for a moment and then the bathroom door closing with a swift click. You appreciate his offer of comfort, while also respecting your privacy in such a vulnerable space. You make sure to take your time in the shower; allowing yourself to bask in the warmth coming from his pipes, the water running over your shoulders and down your torso, replacing any sense of coldness you’d earned by getting stuck in that rain. Eventually though, you decide it’s time to get out. You sigh and turn off the water, and you open the shower curtain and lean over to grab the towel. You shake the water off of your feet before stepping onto the bath mat in front of the tub and you get to work drying yourself.

Simon eventually knocks on the door again and opens it, but just enough for him to shove his hand through the crevice. In his grip is a shirt and some sweatpants with drawstrings. “Here you can sleep in my shirt. Your stuff is in the dryer.” His voice is low and muffled, and you smile a bit to yourself as you quickly snatch up the clothes. “Thank you, Simon.” You say with a soft tone, examining the clothes in curiosity. ��Of’course,” Simon begins. “I got you set up on the couch, too. You’re welcome to my refrigerator as well.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise because this is such a drastic difference than a few months ago—probably a year ago by now. “Thank you..” You can’t help but repeat yourself, gratitude lacing your voice. He responds with a simple grunt before closing the bathroom door again.

You dry yourself off completely and you slip the shirt on, as well as the sweatpants. You tighten and tie the drawstrings if you need to, and despite these clothes being clean, they smell like Simon one hundred percent. You don’t complain, though; he smells kind of like freshly raked soil mixed with bourbon, as well as something you don’t quite recognize, but you guess is gunpowder. It’s comforting. It’s a main reason why you know Simon is home half the time; if the hallway smells like him, just a bit.

You find your heart skipping a beat and you can’t get the dopey smile off of your face as you hang the damp towel up on the towel rack, unable to stop thinking about Simon’s sudden kindness. You feel kind of special, from him letting you into his apartment all of a sudden. You take a deep breath in the bathroom mirror before opening the bathroom door, preparing yourself mentally on your neighbors couch; the neighbor you admittedly don’t know too well and probably shouldn’t trust so easily, but you do anyway. And it seems like he’s beginning to trust you, too.

[l33bang24]

Healing Hearts (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Single Dad! Chan x Fem reader

Summary: Y/N, desperate to leave her troubled past behind, decides to start fresh in a foreign country. Struggling to secure a job, she stumbles upon a babysitting opportunity offered by an elderly woman who lives nearby. Babysitting the daughter of a famous idol is the last thing she ever expected to be doing. What will she do when her past comes back to haunt her just as she begins to find peace?

⚠️CW⚠️: Angst, Depression, Anxiety, Drinking, Yelling, Crussing, Name calling, Physical Abuse, Talks of drug use, Miscarriage, Death of character (not leading), Crying (if I missed anything, lmk)

����: @manuosorioh @palindrome969 @real-life-dwaekii @nebugalaxy @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @catlove83 @ivydoesit23 @resi4skz @vinumque @ntlmundy @rose-w-00-d @rundontwalkshesaid @jennibahng @lailac13 @gn4bnahc @addies29 @greyyeti (Taglist open)

(All dividers are made by @saradika, all credit goes to her)

Next>

Y/N’s POV

“We will be arriving at the Incheon International Airport in 15 minutes," the captain's voice crackled over the intercom. I felt my hands cramp from clutching the armrest for so long. Exhaustion was slowly creeping in, but I was determined to hold out until I reached the hotel. I've never been fond of flying, so I attempted to stay awake for as long as possible. However, my efforts were in vain; I drifted off and only woke up when the turbulence jolted me from my sleep. Since then, I've been wide awake, anxiously awaiting our landing.

Taking off and landing are always the most nerve-wracking parts of flying for me. However, when the pilot announced that we had arrived at our destination on this particular flight, I realized that I hadn't even felt the plane touchdown. Perhaps I was just too lost in my thoughts to notice. I patiently waited for other passengers to pull out their bags before reaching for mine. A courteous older gentleman insisted that I go ahead of him, and I expressed my gratitude. Once my luggage appeared on the carousel, I hailed an Uber to the hotel. After retrieving my belongings, I skillfully weaved through the crowds and exited the main doors.

I spotted a cluster of cameras and excited fans as I approached the exit, signifying celebrities' imminent arrival. Feeling relieved, I silently expressed gratitude for being able to leave before the chaos ensued. Loading my luggage into the waiting Uber, I settled into the back seat and informed the driver of my resort. Once inside, I unzipped my carry-on and reached for my phone. As my fingertips brushed against the screen, a distinct memory I'd been trying to suppress suddenly flooded my mind, and I quickly returned the phone to my bag, unsure if I was ready to confront it just yet.

Closing the bag, I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. I begin counting backward from 10 to 1, trying to calm my racing thoughts. "It's okay," I reassure myself, "I can make it through the day without dwelling on it." Eventually, I'll have to switch it back on or maybe consider getting a new phone altogether.

I arrived at my temporary sanctuary, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. The check-in process was a bit of a blur as I was eager to settle in. After receiving the key to my room, I made my way through the corridors until I finally reached my destination. As I entered the room, I couldn't wait to collapse onto the comfortable bed and unwind after a long journey. As I lay down and rested my head on the soft pillow, I quickly succumbed to slumber, and soon, darkness enveloped me.

Bang Chan’s POV

I loved my lifestyle. The music, fan adoration, the energy of live performances, and the camaraderie with fellow musicians were incredibly enriching. The thrill and allure of those experiences paled compared to the sheer delight of raising a five-year-old daughter. As we strolled through the airport, a profound sense of joy surged through my entire being.

Once we hit the road, Felix turns to me and asks, “What do you think Miryung is doing about this time?” I can't help but grin. “Well, if she's listening to Mrs. Kim, she should be napping.” Lee Know glances at me with a small smile of his own.“You say that like you know she isn't going to do that.” I can't help but run my tongue over the inside of my cheek. “One of her uncles taught her how to use YouTube to watch videos of her father, particularly when he arrives or departs from an airport.” I focus my gaze on the culprit. "Hey! She pleaded with me to show her. I can't say no when she gives me those irresistible puppy eyes." Han reenacts what she did to him while Lee Know hurls his neck pillow at him and purposely hits him in the face.

When I arrived at the house, I bid farewell to the guys and pulled my luggage from the van. While carrying my bags to the front door, I noticed something new on the porch. To my surprise, an angel statue was placed there. I instantly recognized it as the statue that had been stored in the attic for quite a while.

“Oh, Channie, let's look at the garden gnomes! I bet they have some cute ones I can put in the yard.” Ryung pulls my hand toward the garden statues. “Ry, have I ever told you how strong you are since you got pregnant?” I hummed as I rubbed my hand over her still-growing bump. She smiles up at me with those honey-colored eyes. Oh, how I wished our baby had her eyes. I wished she had her everything.

As soon as I looked at her, it was crystal clear: Miyrung was the spitting image of her late mother. I shook my head, anticipating the problematic conversation I would need to have with her. I inserted the keys into the lock, turned the doorknob, and entered the house.

As I set my bags down, I heard feet running across the floor. “Daddy!” I opened my arms as Miryung jumped into them. I hold her tightly as a litter kisses all over her chubby face. “Daddy quit!” I shook my head as I pulled back. “No, ma'am, I will not quit. I'm your Dad; I can kiss you as often as possible.” She would generally try to fight back with me, though this time, she doesn't.

She places her head on my chest. “I missed you, Daddy.” There it is, the heartbreaking. I knew trying to raise a child alone in a world like mine wasn't all rainbows and unicorns. It was hard, but luckily, with the company's support, fans, guys, and family, I could take time away to raise Miryung properly. When she reached a certain age, I could return to my everyday hectic lifestyle.

“I missed you too, Pumpkin,” I say, kissing her on the top of her head. Knowing that she wasn't going to release her grip on me anytime soon, I guided us over to the couch and settled down.“Did you behave for Mrs. Kim while I was away?" When she looks up, her eyes widen. "Yes, Daddy, I was good.” I arch an eyebrow at her. "Come on, Miryung. You know I taught you always to tell the truth. Don't start lying to me now." Her gaze drops, filled with guilt, and her bottom lip trembles. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I know I'm not supposed to go into the attic, but one night, I saw you putting some of Mommy's things away. I didn't want to forget about her, so I pulled out her Angel statue.”

Miryung gazed back at me, her eyes filled with tears, and at that moment, it was as if a sharp blade had pierced through my heart. “Pumpkin, it's not just that you pulled your Mom’s angel statue down; you were up there alone. What would have happened if you had fallen off one of those beams or the latter came back up and closed on you? Miryung, you would have been trapped up there, and Mrs. Kim would have been looking for you everywhere.” I pushed her brown locks behind her ear.

“I just want you to be safe. Okay?” I gently pull her back into my embrace as she bobs her head, feeling her warmth against my chest. I fight back the tears as I look up towards the ceiling. ‘I would never want to get rid of you, Ry. Ever.’ I soon hear a stomach growl, and I can’t fight back the smile that graces my face. “Do you want to order takeout?”

Y/N’s POV

I was drying a whiskey glass when I heard the door slam shut with a resounding bang. Startled, the glass slipped from my hands and crashed onto the hard floor, shattering into pieces. Frantically attempting to clean up before he noticed, I accidentally cut myself on the shards, but I hardly noticed the pain. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?!" His voice boomed from the other room as he stormed into the kitchen. I hastily discarded the broken glass as he approached. I instinctively clasped my hands over my stomach, trying to shield it from view. I could tell he noticed this as his expression darkened, and he felt even more anger.

“Did you take care of that matter as I requested?” He inquired, his intense brown eyes burning with fury. “ANSWER ME! DID YOU?!” He bellowed, causing me to flinch. "No," I responded timidly. "What?" he demanded. "No," I repeated, trying to speak with more conviction. The sudden sting of a slap across my face barely fazes me as I grit my teeth. However, the vice-like grip around my windpipe sends a jolt of fear through me.“You fucking worthless bitch! I told you when I came home, you better have taken those drugs and obliterated that fatuous newborn!!” I could barely get half a breath while clawing at his hands to get free. That only made it worse as he tightened his grip. “Ad-der p-pl-please.” I was breathless, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I watched as dark spots appeared in my peripheral vision.

“I TOLD YOU THAT HEATHEN ISN’T MINE!! I KNOW IT IS SOMEONE ELSE’S!” Adder flung me into the nearest wall. "Ad-Adder, I haven't left the house. It can-" The next blow landed on my face. “DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME! I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN HANGING AROUND DANIEL! I'VE SEEN THE WAY YOU LOOK HIM! IS IT HIS, HUH?! IS IT!!!” No words escaped my lips before a powerful kick landed on my swollen belly. “No, no, no, NO!”

I suddenly woke up from a vivid dream, or what felt more like a memory. My body was drenched in sweat, and I was trembling uncontrollably. I hugged myself tightly and burst into tears. Grabbing a nearby pillow, I unleashed all my pent-up agony and frustration with a gut-wrenching scream. “I’m so s-sorry, my b-baby.” I choked up, clinching on the pillow for dear life. “I-I’m sorry I-I did-didn’t protect y-you.”

(I'm honestly really excited for this series! I think this will be a good one. 🤞🏻🤞🏻 If you would like to be added to the taglist, just lmk in the comments 😊)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Could you maybe write like obsessive gp Donna x Fem reader (they're dating btw)? Like Donna just absolutely going feral on the reader like losing all sense of control idk. No shy Donna chat, we die w feral donna going on abt how much she loves reader n all that, how reader is like a drug to her and she can't live without her bcs she's like hella hooked on reader. Waiter waiter! Smut pls! (U don't have to do it if ur not comfortable w it dw)

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes :)))))

Trust me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, slightly dark Donna, jealousy...

Word count: 6,763

Summary: You love that obsessive and jealous doll maker...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

The night covered that place with a sinister breeze. The sound of the waterfall seemed to bounce off the rock with more intensity. The cold was starting to be unbearable. Your walk was slow but determined, you were returning home.

After a fun night with friends, the way back was always relaxing, despite the shivers that crossing that forest alone caused you. Well, actually you could consider yourself almost lucky to have left the estate. It wasn’t something especially usual.

You sighed in relief as you approached the old mansion. The windows didn’t reflect light, only darkness, there seemed to be no one awake, good.

Slowly, you opened the doors, whose creaking echoed disturbingly in the old house. No light, no dolls in sight.

With extreme care not to disturb your girlfriend's rest, you closed them again, walking almost on tiptoe and adjusting your eyes to the darkness.

Everything seemed calm, it seemed like the house itself was comfortable with the silence, something that shouldn't surprise you. Step by step, you walked through the living room, with the same subtle step, not wanting to disturb that calm. It was a pity that it didn't last long.

“Shit!” you screamed when, unexpectedly, the light in the living room turned on, and in the middle of it there was someone waiting for you, Donna. “Ugh, hey, Donna, don't do that,” you protested with a hand on your chest, smiling embarrassingly

“What you don't want me to do?” she asked with a cold look, with a dark pose that startled you. “I was waiting for you.”

“I see, but... Did you have to scare me to death?” you said calmer, approaching the lady in black, trying to steal a kiss from her, something she prevented, studying your gaze.

“You've been drinking,” she stated, with her only eye fixed on yours, on the shine that was present in them. You laughed and shook your head, moving away from the lady.

“No...” you said without confidence, making a gesture with your hand to emphasize your lie. “Well, maybe.”

“Have you seen what time it is, (Y/N)?” the woman in black asked, with an accusatory look, allowing you to finally capture her lips with yours quickly.

You shrugged, glancing sideways at the clock hanging on the wall.

“Mm, two o'clock,” you whispered embarrassed, with a good girl face.

Donna sighed, crossing her arms.

“It's late, (Y/N), I was really worried about you,” the lady said, approaching slowly, placing a hand on your cheek, checking your condition more closely.

You shook your head with a tired smile, joining your hand to her caresses and sighing, controlling her breathing to calm her down, she seemed nervous.

“Oh, come on, Donna, you have nothing to worry about,” you whispered with a sweet voice, placing your lips on hers again.

She stepped back, shaking her head, frowning.

“Haven’t I? I'm your girlfriend, of course I was worried,” she said with a strange expression, as if you had denied an absolute truth for her.

“I know how to take care of myself, besides, I was with my friends,” you said with a passive tone, leaning on her desk.

The lady in black opened her eye wide, emitting something like an angry growl.

“That's what worries me,” she whispered, looking away, turning her back to you.

You rolled your eyes, resting both your hands on her shoulders, massaging them in a comforting way.

“Donna...” you murmured, continuing with that relaxing massage. “You have to calm down... I'm not a child. Besides, you already know that they are harmless. They would never dare to lay a finger on me. They know who you are.”

The doll maker turned around with a tired sigh, gently grabbing you by the waist, bringing you closer to her.

“If I lost you, I would go crazy, amore mio...” she whispered in your ear, placing her forehead against yours, closing her eye to relax from the contact of her skin with yours. “I love you so much…”

“Oh…” you sighed with a childish smile, moved by her constant declarations of love, wrapping your hands around her neck in a romantic way. “You're not going to lose me… see? I'm here.”

“You're here now, but… What about tomorrow? Will you still be with me?” she asked with a broken voice, caressing you, as if she didn't want to forget the touch of your skin, as if she wanted to remember it in case her fears came true.

You sighed tired of that pessimistic and distrustful attitude, one you had been living with for a long time.

“I'll never get tired of telling you, Donna, I'll never leave,” you whispered in her ear while she hugged you, holding you tightly against her body. “I always come back, and you know it.”

“You always leave again,” she murmured, pushing you away, with a sad look, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “You don't know how much I suffer when I see you walk out the door, when I think about where you are, if you're with someone else...”

“I've told you a thousand times, that's nonsense, I only love you,” you said seriously, cupping her face in your hands, trying, again, to fight against her jealousy, against that absurd fear of losing you.

“Words are something ephemeral, (Y/N),” she commented, letting herself be caressed with distrust. “If you loved me as much as you say, you would stay with me.”

“Okay...” you sighed, looking at her with sincere eyes, trying to convey with your gaze what your words affirmed. “Donna, trust me.”

“I trust you,” she said abruptly, looking at you darkly. “You're the love of my life, and I want you by my side, you told me you'd be by my side.”

“Oh, wow, I thought I was gone,” you joked, something that, of course, she didn't like at all, moving away from you with a growl.

“Are you laughing at me?” Donna asked offended, pressing her lips together, with fury beginning to run through her body.

“Not exactly,” you said, ignoring the danger of that posture, of that look. “I laugh at your stupid paranoia, Donna.”

“It’s not stupid, just look at you, you're so… Prefect…” she protested, blinking nervously, shaking her head, as if you had said something stupid. “Wanting you to be only mine is paranoia?”

“No…” you murmured, looking at your nails with disinterest. “But believing that everyone wants to flirt with me is.”

“Everyone wants to flirt with you, that's an irrefutable truth,” she said with a proud pose, looking away in a childish way. “Everyone wants to take you away from me.”

“That sounds like paranoia…” you said with irony, arching your eyebrows. “Stop… Worrying that much.”

“(Y/N)…” the lady in black sighed, controlling her agitated breathing. “You still don't understand, do you? You are the only thing that matters to me, the only thing I think about, the only person I love… You are… You are my addiction, my light, the only reason that makes me smile. I think you don't realize how much I suffer when I see that you are not with me, when I’m not able to hear your voice.”

“Wow…” you sighed with a shy smile, your cheeks flushed by those words. You would never get used to that melodic voice, to those words that repeated over and over again, how much she loved you. “Keep talking…”

“Being without you is like the air is missing, I can't breathe, I can't feel anything if you're not by my side, if my my hand is not caressing your skin,” the brunette continued with a smile, slowly approaching, attacking your waist again.

You laughed nervously, biting your lip at those seductive words.

“If you weren't so tender...” you sighed, letting her arms hug you, leaning so your head rested on her shoulder, to fill you with her lavender essence. She pulled away abruptly, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What? What would happen?” she asked worriedly.

You repressed the impulse to roll your eyes again, silencing her absurd worries with a romantic, slow, soft kiss, noticing how her body relaxed a bit.

“Nothing, Donna,” you said with a tired voice, yawning. “Well… It’s been a long day and I’d like to go to bed, are you coming?”

You moved to walk towards the elevator, being stopped by a strong grip on your wrist, one that kept you in place.

“Let me go, Donna…” you sighed amused, letting the brunette pull you towards her body again, surrounding you with her arms.

“I would never let you go, tesoro,” she said, with a soft voice, approaching your lips to devour them wildly, to kiss you with passion, with eagerness, to let out her fears, her feelings…

You kissed her back, trying to keep up with her fierce rhythm, trying to say with that gesture how much you loved her, how absurd her worries were. You took a breath as those kisses deepened, as they went down your neck without wanting to stop.

“Hey, take it easy, darling,” you said amused, separating yourself from a Donna, who was about to lose control again, if she hadn't already.

“I can't calm down with you by my side... You make my heart beat so fast, (Y/N),” she whispered in your ear, giving you one last kiss before turning you around abruptly, pushing you against the desk.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, trying to stand up, without success.

Her hands tilted your head towards the wood again before traveling down your body, caressing your waist, resting on it while the lady in black leaned on you.

You knew what her intentions were. You knew that when something worried her, that the fear of losing you was too much for her, she acted that way, wanting to claim you as hers in a wild way, wanting to feel you in a unique way, reminding you over and over again that you would never belong to anyone else.

“Taci,” Donna said to you with a dark voice, slipping her hands into your dress, lifting it up and leaving you exposed, at her mercy. “You are mine…”

“Couldn't I be yours tomorrow?” you asked jokingly, unable to stop her fingers from pulling down your underwear, her caresses from ceasing to be innocent. “I'm a bit tired.”

“Tomorrow is too late, tesoro…” she murmured, playing with the erection that was already pressing against your body. “I need you now.”

“Wait… Donna!” you squealed when, without warning, she entered you with a silent moan, stretching your walls unexpectedly. Of course, your body didn't object to that intrusion, welcoming it warmly as always.

“Shut up,” she said, pulling your hair gently, tilting your head up as she moved so your body would better adapt to hers. “Così bagnata, mm? Il tuo corpo mi ama…”

“Of course it loves you…” you said, starting to pant from that improvised pleasure, with your hips moving involuntarily to keep up with her thrusts. “That's because I love you, Donna.”

She moaned with pleasure hearing the words that came out of your lips, feeling your body adapting to her, confirming the truth of your statements. You may not have planned to end the night like this, but you weren't going to complain, of course.

“You… You don’t know… What it's like… To love you that much…” she murmured, rambling among moans, grabbing your hips to move them as she pleased. The sound of the old desk moving added a few more degrees of temperature to that dark room. “…Thinking about you all the time…”

“Mm…” you moaned, closing your eyes and letting yourself be carried away by her movements, by her desire to love you, to show you that unconditional and irrational love Donna felt for you. You would never blame her for that, her paranoia didn't matter. You didn't care about anything but her, even if you didn't tell her as much as she did to you.

“Don’t, don't leave me again, (Y/N),” the lady in black moaned, increasing her speed, the roughness of those intense thrusts, resting her hand on your back so you wouldn't move, so you wouldn't stop being hers. “I can't live without you…”

“Donna,” you moaned, repressing the pleasure you felt with a closed fist on the wooden table, sweating, feeling loved, full of her. “The things you say… They just drive me crazy…”

She laughed tenderly, relaxing her movements, leaning over you, grabbing your chin to turn it slowly, kissing you tenderly, almost as if time had stopped.

“You drive me crazy,” she whispered, positioning your head again against the table, resuming her increasingly erratic movements. She was close, and so were you.

“Wait, don't do...” you said when her panting turned furious, when your walls played with her shaft inside them, when her hips danced almost uncontrollably.

It was too late for warnings, her release caressed your wetness, her heat ran through your insides without warning, causing you to have an embarrassing orgasm due to the sensation.

 “… That…” you sighed, relaxing your body after a shy moan, after scratching the wood of the desk.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” the lady sighed, slowly moving away, approaching your lips as you caught your breath.

You kissed her back and stood up, turning around with your arms crossed.

“Again, Donna?” you asked with your voice cracked by pleasure. Her gaze remained fixed on you, trying to interpret its words. “Honey… You know I don't like it when you do it inside… We could… We could… Have problems.”

“You liked it,” she said, with a sinister smile, one that made you blush. You nodded defeated, with a tender look. “You can lie to me, but your body can't.”

“You know me too well,” you whispered amused, moving from the wet discomfort between your legs. “But, but be more careful next time.”

“Would a child of mine be a problem for you?” she asked shaking her head, with that accusatory look.

You rolled your eyes too many times a day.

“I'm not ready for that, Donna,” you sighed, hugging her waist, kissing her to dispel her paranoia again. “But well, it doesn't matter, darling... Hey, I need a bath, will you join me?”

She looked at you with a radiant face, devoid of fear and jealousy, that tender look that you fell in love with, that you could never stop being addicted to. With a quick kiss, she nodded, letting your hand guide her to walk with you.

Loving Donna Beneviento wasn't a difficult thing. You were a simple villager, one who wasn't special, who was like any other. To think that someone like you, a normal, ordinary girl, could attract the attention of one of the Lords was something you never even considered.

But, of course, once you started talking to her, having tea in her old mansion, wondering over and over again what was behind that black veil, you knew you couldn't, and didn't want to stop doing it.

A sick mind, a deformity on her face, a different body... None of that stopped your heart from beating faster in her presence, letting yourself be carried away by her timid flattery, by those smiles you could see when that black cloth disappeared.

Living with her was the closest thing to the Gods that you had ever experienced. It was a circle of constant love, of kisses, of hugs, of improvised lustful acts. But nobody said that the Black Paradise of the Gods was perfect.

Donna was a lonely woman, who spent most of her life surrounded by absolute darkness. She had no family, no friends; she only had Angie, who was nothing but a part of her own conscience.

Those experiences, that terrible childhood took their toll on her. Even though she was an immortal Lord, she couldn’t be oblivious to the suffering of a human being, to that fear, to that constant Sword of Damocles that hung over her head, threatening to plunge her back into the darkness.

You knew those reasons, the root of her fears, of her obsessive and possessive behavior. You understood and tolerated it, as well as her nervous breakdowns. None of that was a reason enough to stop loving her, to stop feeling the protection of her arms around your body, her healing caresses...

You loved her more than anything, you enjoyed her company, even if you had to deal with her problems, something that was becoming easier and easier for you. Time could be the best remedy for her fears, knowing that in more than a year you were still sleeping next to her should be enough reason for her demons to surrender to the truth. It didn't seem to be, but you were already used to it.

“Mmmm,” you moaned the next day while you were eating. Of course, nothing could compare to her way of cooking, to her eagerness to please you with the simplest things. “You've added spice.”

She smiled, taking a sip of her glass of wine, pleased by your liking, even embarrassed by it.

“Do you like it?” the lady whispered in a tender voice, with a look that could only convey love, that love you adored so much, so far from her obsessions.

“Yes, it's... Delicious,” you joked.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“I'll do whatever it takes to please you, you should know that,” she murmured, keeping that intense look, the one that seemed to adore every part of you. “I know how much you like spicy food.”

“Do you? Well, I don't think I've ever told you,” you said with a frown, trying to remember a conversation that seemed to have never happened.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, looking away with disinterest. “Of course you haven’t, I've read it in your diary,” she said, without any problem, making the cutlery fall from your hands.

“What?” you asked incredulously, laughing nervously, open-mouthed. “Can you repeat that for me?”

“I've read it in your diary,” the lady repeated, offering you a basket. “Do you want a piece of bread?”

“Bread?” you said confused, picking up a piece and shaking your head. “Wait, wait, wait… I don’t think you said that… It’s a joke, right?”

Donna looked up. There was no smile on her face, she was serious.

“No,” she said simply, without giving it any importance.

You searched for the right words to react to that confession. You couldn’t find them. A mix of dangerous emotions began to run through your body.

“Really? Have you, have you read my diary?” you asked confused, incredulous at her words. “But, but if it is, it’s hidden… You shouldn’t even know I have a diary.”

“If you wanted to hide it, there are better places than the laundry room to do it,” the doll maker commented, with disinterest, as if she didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh, I… Um, but…” you stammered, red with embarrassment and unable to react rationally and maturely to that intrusion. “But Donna, why the hell did you do that?”

The lady in black wiped herself with a napkin, sighing in annoyance and looking at you darkly.

“I thought there were no secrets between us,” she whispered with a cocky pose, proud of her action.

“There aren't,” you protested nervously, passing a hand over your forehead. “Don't you know that a diary is something intimate?”

“Didn't you hear me?” she asked, visibly annoyed by your attitude, something that made you even angrier. “There are no secrets between us, (Y/N).”

“Donna… I've been writing that diary since I was a little girl… You can't read it,” you said, unsure of how to act, nervous and embarrassed. “They’re my, my private thoughts.”

“Do you need your thoughts to be private? What are you hiding from me?” she asked, with an increasingly dangerous tone.

“Gods… Nothing,” you said, crossing your arms, opening your eyes wide. “But I like to have some privacy, you know?”

“It's not necessary with me,” Donna commented, with a serenity that made you even more nervous. “You can tell me whatever you want.”

“Oh, yes, of course, why would I tell you if you've already read it? Donna, listen to me, you can't do that. It's my diary, you understand? Mine.”

“Certo…” she murmured, taking another sip of wine, with a much more dangerous look. “I'm convinced that you would have told me when you made up with Ionescu's daughter in the back of the church.”

“Hey, you're so…” you hissed, huffing angrily. “Why do you want to know? Are you interested in my private life?”

“If your private life is full of stupid women who could come back one day to make you fall in love again, yes, I'm interested,” Donna murmured, crossing her arms, with the same posture as you.

“That happened 10 years ago,” you said nervously, shaking your head. “I was 15, Donna. Seriously, I can't believe your jealousy goes that far.”

“I can't believe you don't understand that I need to know everything about you,” she answered. “I can't understand why instead of telling me your worries, you write them in that book.”

“Because I don't want to worry you, Donna,” you said, more confidently. “I know what you're like, I know what you think, and I know how much it hurts you to think that before you there were…”

“Silenzio! Don't go on…” she said, screaming nervously, her jealousy consuming her again.

“See?” you said satisfied, causing him to growl nervously. “I wouldn't have to hide anything from you if you weren't so… Jealous.”

“I'm jealous because I like to keep what's mine, because I'm afraid of losing you,” Donna said, looking away from you. “You don't know how much I suffer when I imagine… Those things.”

“This would be solved if you trusted me, don't you think?” you asked ironically, earning a fiery look. “Gosh, Donna, you’re capable to piss on me just to mark your territory.”

“I would do it if I had to,” she commented in a low voice.

You laughed defeated, shaking your head and letting your shoulders fall, unable to continue with this absurd conversation.

“Do you want some more wine?” Donna asked in a different voice, as if she had never said those things, as if she hadn't delved into your most private intimacy.

You thought about it, but put on a fake smile, extending your glass towards her, which she filled immediately. Before you could bring that wine closer to you, you threw it abruptly at the brunette's face, soaking it unpleasantly.

“That's for reading my diary,” you said satisfied, leaving the now empty glass on the table.

Donna shook her head in confusion, mouth agape, her face covered in that red liquid, trying to clean it with her hand. You got up from the chair, taking your plate of food to enjoy it away from Donna, who did the same, tightly grabbing your wrist with an angry murmur.

“Why don't you go down to play with your dolls? I don't feel like being with you,” you said, moving away from her grip. “And wipe your face.”

Her eye was shining with fury and her breathing was uncontrolled. You weren't afraid, she would never hurt you. You were completely safe. She was probably furious, wanting to scream and break things, but she didn't, she just cursed your name in Italian and turned around, walking away to the elevator hallway.

“Oh, Donna, what happened to you? Have you forgotten how to drink?” Angie mocked, passing by the angry lady, who gave her a look that could scare the bravest.

“Vaffanculo!” the brunette shrieked, with all her rage contained, walking faster and faster.

“Hey! Don't say those ugly things to me! Bad Donna, silly Donna!” Angie shouted, causing you to grimace in disgust at that squeaky voice.

“Arghh!” Lady Beneviento growled, disappearing from your sight.

“Enjoy the wine, darling,” you muttered mockingly, sitting down on a sofa and continuing with your meal.

“Hey, you! Donna said mean things to me because of you!” the doll accused, climbing onto the sofa and pointing at you with her finger.

“Because of me? No,” you said in a passive voice. “It was her fault.”

“Her fault? Stupid lying villager…” the doll hissed, not letting you eat in peace. “Donna would never do anything bad to you. It was your fault, silly.”

“No? Ask her why she read my diary,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head. “That's not right, you know?”

“You're very mean to her, silly…” Angie whispered, dropping down beside you. “Poor Donna loves you very much.”

“Well, let her not love me that much,” you snapped furiously, looking at the hallway where the lady disappeared.

“Donna just wanted to know things about you,” Angie said, in a calmer tone.

“Well, she could ask me instead of gossiping, right?” you said, finishing your food, leaving it on the table. “Angie, I… I don't know how to tell her that she has nothing to fear, that she's not going to lose me…”

“What you say doesn't matter, silly, Donna would never listen to you,” the puppet explained, surprisingly understanding. “She's madly in love with you.”

“She’s madly obsessed,” you corrected with irony, calming your nerves.

“Isn't it the same?”

“Well, in part…” you rambled, leaning your back against the furniture. “You know I love her, right?”

“You say that,” Angie said, laughing amusedly. “You also say it in your diary.”

“What? You too? Oh, Gods…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, even more embarrassed.

“You are very hard on my Donna, she just wants you to be happy by her side,” the doll said after a moment of reflection.

“Hey, I have a hard time too. You don't know what it's like that no matter what I do, she never trusts me,” you murmured, shaking your head.

“And you, stupid villager, don't know what it's like for Donna to have someone by her side after so much time alone. She's stupid, and clumsy, but that's because someone like you had never appeared in her life.”

“Wow, Angie, that's very… Deep for you,” you said jokingly, with a soft smile.

“You're wrong about me, silly,” the puppet said, with a cocky pose. “I want the best for Donna. And if that's you... Well, I have to accept it

“She should learn to control herself,” you sighed, more relaxed, with the resentment disappearing from your thoughts. “She can't lose her mind every time I’m not with her.”

“You know my Donna has never had her mind on straight,” the doll mocked, whispering in your ear so as not to be heard. “But she's good, I promise.”

“You don't have to tell me, I know,” you said with a smile, remembering the thousands of good times with the lady in black, infinitely superior to the absurd arguments. “Besides, it's not like I dislike her wild side that much...” you murmured amused, winking at the doll, who moved away in horror.

“Disgusting,” she protested.

“Okay... I think I should go to the workshop and talk to her,” you said tiredly, getting up from the sofa.

“Don't be mad at her... She really loves you,” Angie murmured, in a strange, unusual, sad way.

“I'm not mad,” you said smiling, moving away from the doll and walking towards the elevator.

You were right. You didn't hold that much resentment. Yes, she had read your diary, but there was nothing you had to hide from her, besides that old book was full of compliments towards the lady in black, of words of love.

“Are you here to apologize?” the brunette whispered when you entered the workshop. You rolled your eyes, but continued walking, hanging on her shoulders.

“No,” you said amused, kissing her cheek affectionately. “The color red suits your skin very well, you know?”

“If you've come to make fun of me, I'd rather you leave, I'm busy,” she hissed, focused on one of her dolls, but without moving away from your grip.

“Oh, now you want me to leave, huh? I thought you liked being with me,” you said in her ear mockingly, making her stop with a sigh.

“There's nothing in the world I like more than being with you, (Y/N),” she replied, running a hand over yours, caressing it gently while manipulating a small dress.

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, kissing her quickly and settling yourself affectionately on her lap.

She looked at you, sketching a relaxed smile, kissing your lips slowly, holding you so you wouldn't move away from her body while she continued working.

“Your breathing is very funny,” you commented with a sweet voice, attracting her attention again. “When you're focused you breathe very deeply, I love it.”

“I do it without meaning to,” Donna said, with a wider smile. “Do you like my breathing? What kind of compliment is that?” she asked amused, accommodating you more on her lap.

You shrugged sighing relaxed, watching how that delicate hand gave life to another of those dolls.

“Well, the one I thought of,” you joked, hanging on her shoulders to be more comfortable. “I'm sure you've read some better ones in my diary.”

Donna stopped, sighing deeply, closing her eye, but pretending to ignore your words.

Being next to her in the workshop, in silence, was one of your favorite hobbies. Seeing her calm, working on her dolls, only stopping to kiss or caress you, bordered on perfection.

“I'm sorry about your diary,” the lady murmured, with an inaudible whisper. “I didn't know it annoyed you that much.”

“Well…” you murmured surprised by that apology. No, she never apologized. Donna always believed she was doing the best for you, for your love. “People don't like it when you pry into their secrets, you know…”

“No, I don't know,” she answered, with a slightly darker tone.

“Mm…” you sighed, studying the movements of her hand, which was beginning to tremble. “Donna, I'm not angry about that, it's just that… Hey, I don't feel comfortable with you knowing how I threw up in front of my family on Gods’ Coming day.”

“You drank too much,” she commented, with a calmer tone, with a slight smile decorating the beauty of her face.

“Yes…” you said, nodding amused.

“You don't understand, (Y/N),” she said, putting her dolls aside to look directly at you, with a sad expression, gently caressing your cheek. “Everything that has to do with you is fascinating to me.”

“Even a teenage binge?” you joked, with a good girl face that made her laugh. It made her emit that tender laugh that drove you crazy.

“Even that,” she said, kissing you on the lips quickly. “Knowing that you have lived the life you deserved comforts my heart. I’m so in love with you…”

“I know,” you said with a serious voice, with a sincere smile.

“Your life is addictive to me, you are addictive to me, do you understand?” the lady whispered in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face, a habit she had and that you loved. “You have come into my life to change it completely. You have illuminated my darkness… How can I not be interested in you? How do you expect me to not try to get to know you? To know what you think, what your fears are?”

“I only have one fear, Donna…” you whispered calmly, enjoying the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body. “You don't trust me.”

“It's complicated, you know?” she said, pulling away abruptly, frowning. “I, I would like to be able to please you, to free you from that fear but… My fear of losing you overcomes it, the thought that you are not here, with me, imagining of you in another person’s arms…”

Her words were fading with anger, with that incipient rage, with the trembling of her body, the hardening of her expression.

“Shhh, stop it, my love…” you said in a soothing voice, comforting her with your caresses, trying to erase the darkness from her face. “I don't want you to get nervous…”

“Of course I get nervous,” she protested, in a harsher tone, clenching her fists tightly despite your affectionate gestures. “No one, no one can touch you, not even look at you. You are mine, and only mine.”

“You haven't said anything I don't agree with, darling,” you commented in a soft voice, kissing the back of her clenched fist. “Only yours, you should know that.”

“I know that but… every, every time…I think that… I'm not the first one who…” Donna stammered nervously, starting to lose control again. You got off her lap, keeping her erratic gaze on yours, holding her head.

“You may not be the first, but you are the last, Donna,” you said seriously, confidently, sure of yourself, sure that what you were saying was an immovable truth. She shook her head, pulling away from your hold with a sigh.

“I love you,” she whispered, not looking at you, slowly standing up and grabbing your waist. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Donna… Me too,” you whispered back, letting her body dance with yours, her hands gently rocking it, playing with yours. “Come here,” you said amused, making a gesture with your finger, kissing her deeply, melting into her in a comforting, almost balsamic warmth.

“(Y/N)… Sei la mia vita, il mio amore, il mio sogno…” the lady whispered lovingly in your ear, making your whole body tremble.

“You know I melt when you talk to me like that,” you purred, earning a radiant smile, proud of what her words continued to provoke in you.

“Good,” she said with a murmur, cupping your face in her hands. “I want you to melt…”

The kisses became disordered, your hands began to wander over her dress. The panting interrupted the eternal rest of those porcelain dolls, filling that sinister workshop with passion.

“I love you so much…” she sighed, taking you in her arms, sitting you on one of the work tables, refusing to let her lips leave your mouth, to let her hands stop caressing your skin.

You laughed in response, adapting to the ferocity of her kisses, to the rhythm of her increasingly intense caresses. The desire that was always latent in you took control of your hands, which impatiently unbuttoned her dress, sneaking inside it, brushing the skin of her covered breasts, her body warm due to the friction with yours.

Her kisses went down your neck, her hands imitated yours, claiming your breasts, squeezing them intensely, engraving the mark of her nails on your skin, her teeth on your neck, engraving herself in you.

“Donna…” you moaned from the pleasure of that unbridled passion, from the hunger and desire she always had to possess you, to claim you, to tell you and herself, that you were hers, to show it in a passionate way.

Your legs danced until they were around her waist, pulling her towards you, not leaving an inch between her body and yours. The gasps, the moans accompanied that lustful touch, those caresses of the brunette on your legs, the soft dance of her hips desperately longing for contact with yours.

It didn't matter what you said anymore, Donna had already lost control again, scratching your skin, running her hands through every corner free of her caresses, wanting to dominate your entire body, wanting to be its owner, its only owner.

“I can't wait any longer...” she sighed, playing with her dress, releasing her more than evident arousal, brushing it with the wetness of your underwear. “Let me take you.”

You bit your lip, closing your eyes at that lustful contact, at the touch of her erection against your wet entrance, at the barrier that seemed to bother her so much, at your clothes preventing Donna from making her wishes come true.

“Wait a bit, darling…” you joked, biting her earlobe. Donna, already out of control, growled, shaking her head.

“If you don't take it off, (Y/N), I'm going to tear it,” she threatened with a dark look, increasing the rhythm of her hips, moaning desperately at the lack of authentic moisture in her body.

You opened your eyes, pleasantly surprised by that furious, anxious attitude, by that lust that only you could endure.

“Oh, you don't dare…” you mocked, lowering your hand to her trembling shaft, stimulating it to increase her suffering, her uncontrollable desire. “Let me give you a hand…”

She moaned in pleasure at your gentle touch, shaking her head. You didn't know it was that easy to control her instincts with your gentle stimulation, but you didn't want that, not at all.

“Mm, you don't follow through on your threats, huh?” you teased, intensifying your movements, playing with her so she felt unable to possess you, something that obviously bothered Donna, removing your hand from her erection and pulling hard at your underwear, inevitably tearing it. “Hey, they were new!”

“You wanted it…” she hissed, not waiting a second to fulfill her wish, to enter you abruptly with a scandalous moan. “Don't play with me, tesoro.”

“I… I like to play with you…” you moaned, moving to her rhythm, with your body receiving her with the same desire, hugging her, squeezing her with your walls. “Hey, slow down… You're big, Donna.”

“Don't tell me what to do,” she growled, lifting your legs, which desperately clung to her waist, holding your ankles, digging her nails into your skin, forcing you to moan louder. “You're mine…”

“Yes, yes, I am, I'm yours,” you repeated, blinded by the pleasure of her roughness, by that intense way of showing you her love, her desire, her irremediable addiction to you.

“You're not going to abandon me,” the doll maker murmured, moaning angrily, moving inside you tirelessly, deforming your body broken by the sensation, weak with its undisputed owner. “You're not going to abandon me!”

“Of course not, my love…” you said as best you could, with your voice breaking from the movements, from the pleasure, from the shivers that were beginning to threaten your body with tensing, with releasing due to that overwhelming pleasure.

“I trust you, I trust you, amore mio…” she stammered, controlling her effusiveness, not wanting to end that passionate act, not wanting to miss your face when you exploded with pleasure. “But I don't plan on moving away, do you hear me?”

 “No?” you said amused, playing with your hips so your insides would play with her erection, so they would caress it in every possible way, to make her lose even more control, something that you achieved, since her hand stopped on your chest while she held your legs.

“I’m going to cum inside of you so... So you can, you can be mine forever... You will carry my child in your womb... No one will dare to argue that you are mine, no one!” Donna said, rambling, losing control of her thoughts, of her intentions.

You didn't take it seriously, but you knew that deep down it was what she wanted. She wanted an indisputable proof that you were hers, that you would always be. But, luckily, things weren't that simple. Probably nothing would happen, like so many other times, right?

“I'm so close, Donna,” you moaned, stretching your body, fighting your own release, which was not long in manifesting, shaking your body, receiving thousands of electric shocks all over your skin. “Go, Gods!”

The spasms of your body, the involuntary movements of your walls caused the lady in black to stop, with her legs trembling, releasing herself inside you, at the same time as you, surrendered to the burning stimulation of your body.

“(Y/N)… I, I love you… I love you…” she whispered, letting your legs go and throwing herself at your lips, kissing you deeply, not wanting to move, wanting to stay inside of you as long as possible.

You smiled, exhausted, with your breathing slowly returning to normal.

“You know? Nobody had loved me as much as you…” you sighed, caressing her sweaty face, one that returned a tender, almost shy, smile. “I love you, Donna.”

“I know…” she murmured, calmer, slowly regaining the sanity that lust had taken from her. You laughed amused, kissing her quickly, covering her with kisses.

“Have you read it in my diary?” you asked jokingly, with your eyebrows raised.

Donna relaxed, bringing a hand to your cheek, shaking her head.

“No, tesoro… I see it in your eyes…”

[explorevenus]

something permanent ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors pls dni i will scream

this is a dark fic for a multitude of reasons. if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, noncon, forced breeding, body horror, gore, & blood

in other words-- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

ahem. now that that’s over.

word count - 4.4k

description - nothing in leon’s life was ever permanent and his life circumstances made sure of that. over the years he was beaten down from a bright-eyed rookie police officer to a weary and angry shell of his former self. when a chance meeting brought you into his life, he knew what he had to do. he knew you had to be something permanent.

tags/warnings - yandere!leon, dark!leon, leon being patronizing and condescending and sickly sweet, fem/afab!reader, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, puppy, etc.), noncon, forced breeding, housewife kink, body horror (spoiler alert he rips your IUD out with his bare hands), slight gore, blood, noncon, stockholm syndrome if u squint, dollification if u squint, descriptions of vomiting, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - ok i genuinely don’t know if anyone even wants this but i personally find it egregious how little yandere!leon content exists out there in this world because listen. i know a lot of people consider leon submissive and breedable but personally i believe this broken angry man just wants a sweet little thing to dote on and take care of to make him forget about the horrors of his life and he will stop at nothing to make that happen ♡ anyways. enjoy. and if it’s not ur cup of tea idc keep scrolling :^)

p.s. this is obviously a very canon-deviant, borderline crack fic so it’s not really established which leon this is outside of referring to the events of re2 being a long time ago, so go wild with your interpretation of that to read this as whichever leon is ur favorite ♡ i personally like to imagine post-re4 or infinite darkness leon !! ;w;

read part 2 here !! ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

-venus ♡

You were slow to wake, which wasn't particularly unusual... as of late, but your body felt so heavy, like your muscles had dissolved into mush overnight. Consciousness gradually took its hold of you, and as it did, you began to realize that something seemed off. Different. Wrong, even. You peeked your eyes open, vision blurry with sleep, but you could see you were beneath your pink comforter, a plush of yours held closely to your chest, all normal so far...

But your walls aren't navy blue, they're white... They're supposed to be white--

You jolted wide awake, panic coursing through your weak body as you struggled to even sit up. That's when you noticed an unfamiliar, muscular arm draped over your waist, and that dialed up your anxiety about tenfold. It was hard to move, but you were able to turn your head enough to catch a look at the man it belonged to.

Strong, blond, maybe a bit tired in the eyes... maybe a bit familiar looking... but you were crying now, blurring your sight all over again.

"Shh, shh... you're okay, sweetheart, you're safe now," He hushed, holding you closely to him as you struggled. Smooching the top of your head, he spoke into your messy hair, "I've got you. I've got you, princess."

But... how? The last thing you remembered was tucking into your own bed, in your own apartment, and falling asleep there, how could you have possibly wound up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of ever leaving yours? Your head spun as you tried and failed to fend off the unwanted affection with weak arms. His hold on you didn't dare budge as he continued to coo softly into your ear, to reassure you that you were safe, that he wouldn't let anyone, or anything, hurt you.

The anxiety stewing within you finally reached a tipping point, twisting your stomach into tight knots, and that's when you spoke your first words since you'd awoken. "I-I'm gonna throw up," You wept, clawing weakly at the covers and, well, at him, for freedom. 

Thankfully he was quick to act, scooping you into his arms as he sat up and rose from the bed, carrying you to the adjoined bathroom. When he turned the light on, you managed to get a better look at his face as you passed by the mirror, and it took you a second to recognize him, partly due to your state of delirium, but primarily because you only knew him very vaguely. You had only met him once at work many months ago, when he'd sparked up a conversation with you as you made him his coffee. After that, he became a regular at the café you worked at-- you remembered his name was Leon.

So why were you waking up in his bed, with your belongings lying around like you'd lived here the whole time?

Your knees hit the tile and you began retching immediately, flinching as he reached forward to collect your hair away from your face. Puking on an empty stomach is never a fun time, but your nerves were alight with panic and every time you reminded yourself of your predicament, a new wave of nausea would crash over you. He rubbed your back sweetly, but it didn't help.

Once the vomiting eventually subsided, an awful, hollow pain took place of it. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles per hour. You didn't have the time to acknowledge it, let alone nurse it, outside of clutching your shirt at the waist. 

"Let me get you some water, babe," Leon said as he hesitantly stood from your side, eyeing you worriedly like you'd just fall to pieces if he let you out of his sight. "You poor thing..."

But all you could think about was getting out of here. "N-No, no, what time is it? I have to get to work--"

"I don't think so, sweetheart," He interrupted. "You're sick, you should be in bed."

"I'm fine," Much to the protest of your jellied legs, you pushed yourself up from the floor and fought through the head rush in an attempt to slip past him, but he simply caught you at the waist and brought you to a halt. Your ears were ringing, the room spinning around you, and you still weren't sure how to interpret what was even going on here. "L-Let go of me!" You cried out.

He simply hushed you, holding you tightly to his chest and petting your hair as you writhed, failing miserably to get him off of you. "Don't worry about work, okay? Just rest up and get better. I'll call them for you."

Your stomach sank even further-- what the fuck is happening right now? 

Despite your thrashing he managed to lead you back to the bed as gently as one would fine china, scooping you up into his arms so he could lay you down exactly where you'd awoken earlier. Your chest heaved with sobs as you shrank into yourself in an effort to get away from him.

His eyes left you for just a moment as he reached for the covers, no doubt to tuck you in-- in a split second decision, you seized that time to scramble out of his bed and break for the door. Sadly, as perhaps you should have seen coming, he was more than strong and fast enough to catch up to you, even caught off guard. As soon as your shaking hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he halted you where you stood with a bruising grip on your bicep.

You cried out, trying in vain to peel yourself away from him, but it was no use.

"Come on, silly baby, you heard me," He tsked, dragging you back toward the bed. "No need to be running off anywhere, especially on a sour stomach."

"P-Please--" You gasped through tears.

"I'm sorry, little one, but that's final," Leon hummed with a patronizing but oddly sweet tone. It was as if he were scolding a temperamental child.

He basically wrestled you back into the bed, enveloping you tightly in his arms as he laid down beside you. You struggled against his grasp, but again, it was absolutely no use. He simply pet your hair and pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw, attempting to soothe you with restraint and unwanted affection. 

You sucked in a labored breath, hiccupping, "Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me... I-I just wa-wanna go home, jus' wanna go h-home... Leon please--"

"Shh... oh, good heavens. You are home, princess," He mused, brushing away a stream of your hot tears with his thumb. "You'll see. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Nothing in Leon's life was ever permanent.

All he'd ever wanted was the American dream, to serve his community and meet a pretty girl to share his life with, to settle down in a big house with a fenced yard and two or three little Kennedys running around, maybe a dog. What he wouldn't give to come home at the end of a long day to his beautiful wife, belly swollen with his children, preparing dinner in the kitchen while the existing little ones play with their toys in the other room.

He would enter, slipping off his shoes with a relaxed sigh and a "Honey, I'm home!" to which the aforementioned little ones would rush to the door to hug him at his knees. He'd put one up on his shoulders while the other tugged at his hand, turning into the kitchen to give his beautiful wife a kiss. She would ask of his day and he would say it was good, but better now that he's home with her. With his free hand he would cradle her belly and ask "What's for dinner, you two?" to which she would reply "Your favorite," and as he smiled and thanked her with a kiss he would be silently plotting to thank her properly after the kids are asleep by fucking her full of his cum.

That was all he'd ever wanted. But, day after day after god forsaken day, the chance grew slimmer and slimmer until it had shriveled into something molecular. He didn't even get through his first day at the police station before everything went to shit.

Because of this, Leon began to lose himself over the years. He was no longer the bright-eyed rookie officer looking forward to his even brighter future. He was a broken man, worn down to the bone by years of death, plague, losing everyone he'd ever loved in one way or another-- Leon couldn't take the loss anymore. He wanted-- no, needed-- something permanent, something to give him even the slightest taste of that dream he once had.

When he met you, it wasn't even a question anymore. He knew you were the one. One way or another, he would have you.

He couldn't court you in the traditional way, of course-- it was too dangerous for you to be seen with him. After all, everything he'd ever touched had a way of turning to shit. So, it began with following you home after work so he'd know where you lived. Soon after that he would let himself in when you weren't home-- you weren't smart enough not to keep your key under the mat, furthering how sure he felt that you needed him to take care of you-- he would take little things of yours home with him just to have your scent around.

At first it was just little things like near-empty bottles of shampoo and stray pairs of panties from your laundry basket. Then it was sweaters from your closet, chewed gum and used flossers from your trash can. He'd pay close attention to your grocery lists and what you kept in your pantry so he'd know what kind of food you liked. 

When you did come home, he would sneak out quietly and watch you through your windows, familiarizing himself with your routine. The first thing you'd do when you came home from a long day of work was kick off your heels and change into something comfortable to do your yoga. After a while, you'd pull yourself up from the pink mat and cook dinner. After you'd eat, you'd relax with a book or a video game for a bit before taking a shower and changing into pajamas. Then, you'd brew yourself a mug of tea and retire to the bedroom for the evening where you'd watch documentaries or put on white noise until you eventually fell asleep.

At 7:00 a.m., you'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again.

All he could think about was what he'd do when he finally had you all to himself. Under his roof, you would never have to work another day in your life. Gone would be the days of pouring coffee and baking pastries for random idiots who treated you like shit. All you would ever have to worry about is being pampered, having your entire day to yourself, waiting for him to come home, spending all the money on his credit cards.

And carrying his children, of course.

So, as he held you tightly in his arms while you sobbed and begged to go back to that tiny apartment, all he could think about now was how to fix this. How to convince you he really loved you, how to make you feel truly at home.

The first few weeks were hard for him. Really, really hard.

You were refusing to eat, laying wide awake at night, swinging rapidly between sobbing, screaming and complete apathy. Sometimes he would come into the bedroom and catch you fiddling with the window, or attempting to circumvent the lock on the door by stuffing the mechanism with tissue. You would hit him, kick at him and spit in his face, even as you grew weaker and weaker with malnourishment, not that you really stood a chance before that anyway.

Still, it was hard to watch you shrink in your clothes. It was hard to see your cheeks hollowing by the day. It was hard to hold back your brittle hair while you'd vomit from the nerves, still trying to fight him off of you. It was hard to watch your body tense every time he entered the room.

Just when he'd began to lose hope, he discovered a neat little tool to help you behave. In some countries it was called "devil's breath." The slightest bit of powder could be sprinkled into your water, or over your food, or even into your clothes-- it absorbs through the skin-- and within minutes it would render you quite pliable. Leon didn't want to drug you, of course-- he liked you better when you were lucid-- but it certainly felt like a good place to start, a helpful tool to train you.

When he'd give you a dose, you would let him coddle you without incident. You would lay limp on his chest while he played with your hair and felt your soft skin beneath your shirt. You would allow him to spoon food or tip water into your mouth. You would let him dress you up like his perfect little dolly. You would blush and whimper and whine, and more importantly, not fight him, while he fucked you full of his cum, just like his dream.

There was just one problem-- after about two months of trying daily, it would seem his seed wasn't taking.

Your heart pounded in your ears as the sound of Leon's footsteps nearing the bedroom door grew louder. You glanced over at the clock-- it was 6:15. He was off work for the evening and you knew what that meant.

The lock clicked quietly before the door creaked open, revealing your captor.

"Honey, I'm home!" He smiled excitedly, approaching the bed with a glass of water in hand.

You knew it was for you. You knew he had done something to it. You also knew you didn't intend to drink it.

"W-Welcome home, daddy," You said in a near whisper, forcing a half-smile. While you had definitely lost the majority of the fight in you, that didn't mean it didn't nauseate you to comply with his wishes. "Did you have a good day?"

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he offered you the glass of water while he replied as he always did, "My day was fine, but it's so much better now that I'm home with you, princess."

You smiled at him like it was the first time he'd ever said it, taking the glass with a shaking hand. You stared at it for a moment before mustering up the courage to say, "D-Daddy, I don't want the medicine anymore. I don't think I need it, and it doesn't make me feel good."

"You don't want your medicine anymore, baby?" He asked, tipping your chin up to look at him. You shook your head, rounding your eyes to convince him that much more. "Well, alright, but you have to promise to behave for me."

Now you were nodding, a little bit too eagerly. It was sort of humiliating. "I promise, daddy, I'll behave! I don't want the medicine anymore. I promise I'll be good."

With a proud grin he took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's what I like to hear, babydoll. You know, good little girls get rewarded..." His large hand spread over your thigh, inching up toward the hem of your baggy shirt.

You stiffened, but didn't push him away. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss at your neck, large hand sliding up your shirt until he nudged it up enough to pull it off. You were bare for him now, save for panties, and given your experience with him you knew it wouldn't be long until those were discarded somewhere across the room. With a gentle hand at your shoulder he pushed you onto your back, your legs hanging off the side of the bed, and you were curious where he was going with that until he sank to his knees in front of you and began pulling your panties down.

Your eyes screwed shut, thankful that he couldn't see your face as he spread your thighs and greeted your cunt with a slow lick up the length of you. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles, pretty much holding your breath to keep yourself from kicking him away from you. His fingertips buried into the plush skin of your thighs to hold you apart as he began to eat you out more passionately, suckling your clit up into his mouth and lapping at your hole like he was starving.

If there was one thing you would give him credit for, it would be his skilled tongue. Perhaps he was crazy and obsessed, but he certainly knew how to translate that obsession into something that benefitted you both. You wouldn't have succumbed to it so willingly if he weren't at least good at it.

Still, it was hard to feel any enthusiasm. His attention might have felt good physically, but it certainly didn't feel good mentally. 

You flinched when you felt a fingertip prodding at your cunt. He pulled away just far enough to tsk, "Relax and let me make you feel good, puppy. You said you would behave for me."

"Y-Yes, daddy," You muttered, continuing to clutch the sheets as you tried to control your breathing.

His thick index finger sank into you down to the knuckle, almost immediately curling up to brush against the spongy spot within you that made you see stars. As much as you tried to fight it you gasped, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, but the sound you'd made hadn't slipped past Leon. You felt him smirk against your skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to your thigh, reaching up with his free hand to force yours away from your face.

"Don't be shy, princess," He spoke against the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses up to your clit. "I want to hear just how good it feels."

You whimpered, hips squirming into his affection, and he chuckled approvingly, bringing his mouth back to you fully to continue eating you out while he fucked his finger into you. Soon after his index finger was joined by his middle, and you keened as he reached more deeply into you than he possibly ever had.

He pumped his fingers in and out for a moment, alternating between lapping at your cunt and kissing your thighs, and just as the coil inside began to tighten he suddenly... stopped?

You waited for a second, catching your breath, expecting him to continue any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he took on a tone that froze your blood as he asked, "Sweetheart, what is this?"

Then, you felt a sharp tug at your insides that made you yelp.

"Leon!" You shouted at him in a break of character, attempting to scoot away from him, but he grabbed your hips to still you. "That hurt!"

Another tug. You cried out, trying as you might to snap your thighs shut and push him away, but he wasn't budging.

"You never told me you had an IUD."

"Well, I do, so stop yanking on it! It hurts--"

The next words out of his mouth truly fucking broke you.

"That just won't do. It's no wonder you're not pregnant yet."

You sat up immediately. "Pregnant?"

He ignored you, tugging at it again. You screamed.

"L-Leon, don't! I can get it taken out by a doctor, I swear, I'll get it taken out!"

He shook his head. "And wait even longer to knock you up, pretty girl? Not happening. It's coming out now."

You screamed again, thrashing in his hold. He withdrew from inside you for just a moment, pinning you to the bed by your hip while he reached for your panties on the floor and shoved them into your mouth to silence you.

"There, there, angel. It'll be over before you know it, like ripping off a band-aid," He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you screeched through the cotton. "I'm gonna give you my babies, I promise. Gonna make you a mommy, and we’ll be so happy."

Before you could properly react he forced his fingers back inside you, yanking at the device until you felt a sickening tear and the unmistakable heat of blood rushing out of you. You curled into yourself, wailing, gasping for breath through the panties in your mouth as he withdrew his blood-soaked fingers, holding up the gory IUD in the light.

"There you are, princess. All better," He smiled contently, discarding the device on the bedside table. "You did so good. You were so brave for me."

You were bawling, shrieking through your gag as your vision blurred into white. Leon kissed up your thighs before standing to unbuckle his belt, and he didn't get much further than that before the panic and agonizing pain got to you and you lost consciousness.

You woke up the next morning with your thighs sore and sticky with blood. You lifted the comforter to see a deep red pool seeping out from between your legs, and the more you started to wake up, the more aware you became of the pain. You were cramping terribly, sweating buckets, your ears were ringing and you felt weak. Leon had left for work already, so it was up to you to get yourself to the bathroom.

Your entire body was trembling as you stumbled out of the bed, dripping blood in a trail behind you as you dragged yourself to the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub. You peeled off your pajama shorts and panties, watching in horror as a mixture of thick blood and cum spilled out of you and ran slowly toward the drain. Once again, you began to cry. Obviously he'd had his way with you after you passed out, buckets of blood be damned.

Even with your foggy, staticky brain, you couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about the fact that he had no intention of taking you to a hospital, so there was really no telling what might happen with your profusely painful and bleeding sex. Thinking about how fucking screwed you were now without your IUD, your best defense against falling pregnant with your captor's child. Thinking about the fact that if he wouldn't even take you to a doctor for this, he must be expecting a home birth if you were to become pregnant, which you doubted he was qualified to handle and therefore had a very good chance to result in your slow, painful death.

You couldn't stand the shivering anymore, so you filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt nice, though it was rather gross that the water was stained a glassy rose color with your own blood, not that you really had the strength to care in the moment.

In fact, you didn't have much strength at all. It wasn't long before you found yourself losing consciousness once again.

"Fuck, princess, can you hear me?"

You were trying to open your eyes, to twitch a finger, anything, but it was so hard.

"Shit. Stay right here, babydoll, I'm gonna get you some help, okay? I promise. I never meant to hurt you... shit...”

You heard some shuffling, pacing and possibly Leon talking to himself in the other room. You figured he was trying to decide whether or not to take you to a hospital. Part of you hoped he would and the other part of you hoped he would just let you die there. More than anything, you just wished you would have let him drug you in the first place so maybe you wouldn't be in this level of pain.

After what could have very well been 20 seconds or 20 minutes, Leon kneeled beside the tub and draped a cold washcloth over your forehead, reaching into the bloodied water to pull the drain. With what little control you had over your own movement you managed to crack your eyes open, which seemed to please him.

"Oh thank god... thank god, baby. I almost thought I lost you there," He huffed, voice shaking. "Listen to me closely, princess. Stay with me. I'm going to take you to a doctor but you have to be a good girl, okay? You have to be good for me and go along with what I say, even if it isn't true. I'm just doing what's best for you so you can get all better, okay?"

You nodded weakly. You weren't in any position to put up a fight, and all you really wanted was an end to the pain. Besides, he couldn't supervise you constantly at the hospital. There had to be at least some opportunity to tell someone what he'd done to you.

He somehow managed to dress you in some comfortable clothes of his, a soft black t-shirt that hung halfway down your thighs and a pair of black shorts with some little socks of yours to protect your feet. Then, he carried you princess-style out to the car where he bundled you up in the passenger seat and buckled you in.

As he pulled hurriedly out of the driveway, he made a phone call to someone.

"Hey, it's me... I need the best people we have in the infirmary, stat. I'm on my way now," He spoke sternly into the phone, white knuckling the wheel. "I'm fine, it's not for me, it's my girlfriend. It's a long story that I'll tell you when I get there, but she's bleeding pretty bad. I found her unconscious when I came home... I appreciate it, thanks. See you in 10."

Leon reached over the center console to squeeze your thigh in reassurance.

"You're gonna be just fine, princess. I'm gonna make sure they make you all better, okay?"

Your stomach sank. He obviously wasn't taking you to a hospital. From the sounds of it he was taking you somewhere he had a good amount of leverage, somewhere everyone knew him, held him in high regard and wouldn't dare challenge his word, let alone take yours over his. You slumped to the side, resting your head on the cool window with a quiet bonk. Leon was quick to ask if you were okay but you couldn't muster up a response. Your ears began ringing again and the world around you collapsed into tunnel vision.

part 2 !!

[drewmeows]

kinktober day two - wet dream w/ wade wilson

cw: no actual sex but MDNI, gn!reader, wet dream, author can't write deadpool dialogue, reader's down bad for wade, fade to black

wc: 653

notes: short one today since i had to work and i hate it no matter how many times i wrote and rewrote it😭😭

The air in the cavern was thick as hell, close to choking you as you attempted to close your eyes and get some solid sleep. Tomorrow would be the most important moment since you had landed in this god forsaken Void.

Head in a slight daze from downing the last of Gambit's liquor in an attempt at camraderie, and still unable to fall asleep, you sighed and sat up.

With a quick look around, you noticed Laura had drifted back inside and was snoring soundly now. You snuck out past her to where the Odyssey was parked under some trees and smirked when you noticed the massive claw marks on the sliding door, which had been broken and was now stuck open, revealing Deadpool, sprawled across the backseat with his arm thrown over his eyes.

You looked him over slightly, rolling your eyes before turning your back, with the plan to keep walking until your mind finally calmed down. Your foot slid on a rock and there was a sudden noise from the mini-van.

You froze, thinking you had just woken up the most annoying new addition to the Resistance, as Johnny used to call you all. When you whipped your head around, Wade had shifted, one of his legs falling off the seat and onto the floorboard, spread wide enough for you to see the prominent tent between his thighs.

He made another noise, and this time while looking at him, you could see it was a noise of pleasure, as his face twisted and the bulge in his costume grew slightly.

No. Way. Right now, Wade? Was the first thought you had, before realizing maybe you shouldn't be privy to this scene and attempted to make a quick exit. You flushed slightly as the noises grew louder and more frequent, quickly going to hike back up to the cavern when you heard your name.

"Wade?" You murmured into the dark, making the mistake of turning around and heading back to the open door. "Are you awake now?" You subconciously knew he wasn't but some self sabotaging part of you refused to believe the merc you'd had a crush on in your universe was actually pornographiclly moaning your name in his sleep right now.

"Wade, I swear to gods if you're fucking with me right now, I will rip your dick off," You said with a haughty air. You crossed your arms and drifted back over to him, watching with a keen eye before lifting your foot to kick his leg softly. "Not funny, Wade." You hissed under your breath.

Just as you went to kick him harder, he moaned loud enough to startle you back and you damn near jumped out of your skin when he sat up suddenly, body jerking. You watched with wide eyes as he drew his pistol and looked around in confusion.

Then your eyes dipped to Wade's lap, at the darkened spot near his bulge and you realized exactly what happened. "Oh my god." You clapped your hand over your mouth to hold in a giggle.

He followed your eyes and quickly went to cover his crotch, "Hey! No free shows!" You could see his thigh twitch as the barrel of his gun glanced off his now soft cock.

"Did you just cum from a dream of me?" You couldn't help but blurt out. The look of wonder in your eyes wasn't lost on him, a dawning sense of relief when he realized you weren't making fun of him, but rather were very interested in seeing it again.

Warily, he gave a slow nod, moving his hands to his sides, shifting awkwardly on the bench.

"That's so fucking hot," is all you have time to mutter before pacing the last two steps between the two of you, nudging his legs apart to fit between them and tugging his face up to yours, slotting your lips together.

[dhiings]

𖦹 NANA Tour w/ Seventeen - EP 1

I'm sorry if there's any translation from Korean that is not entirely correct. I mainly used the sentences/convo/lines from the episode itself hihi. Currently into nana tour, cause i'm missing gose so muccch :""

Scoups entering the dark room alone to wake up Jane. 5 minutes had passed by since seventeen member knock on her door. She's the last two member to be awakened from sleep. Na PD, including the staffs still patiently waiting for her to come out. After further knocking and missed calls, still, no sign of movement or even sound. Scoups decided to take matter with his own hand by entering her room.

"nooka?", Scoups trying to wake her up in small voice. Noticing it wont work, he softly nudge her body to wake her up. "Hm? cheol oppa?", Jane starting to get in touch with the reality.

"Wake up and get ready. Everyone's waiting for you in front of the room", he answered gently. He then starts combing her messy hair with his hand waiting for an answer. "Just tell em to come inside, sleepy", she said while yawning.

"Just come in guys!", he said with a louder voice. Still standing right beside Jane who's now in sitting position instead of lying down. All members and staffs starts to barged in and immediately in awed seeing her awakened-bared face.

"Jein! Woah, you look very pretty waking up. Woah... seventeen members, as expected, handsome and beautiful humans", Na PD said.

Still in between dream land-and-reality, the only sentence that comes out of her mouth is, "Whose birthday are we going to suprise? Oh- Why so many people?". Hearing that, Seungkwan and Mingyu bursts laughing. "Yah! Someone give her water", Hoshi said. Jeonghan hand her a bottle of water. "Oh-Na pd? 안녕하세요? [hi?]", now that she's quite awake after drinking some water.

"HAHA, hi jane. C'mon, get up, were finally going to do it.. today! Youth Over Flowers!"

Still in confusion, she answered lightly, "huh? what? where?"

"Italy noona, I-TAL-LI-A" Dino added. Her eye wide open, she was gagged and her mouth was wide open.

Then, they continued to go to the next room and wake up the last member, The8. On their way to The8's room. Jane was walking beside Scoups, still in her pajama. She quietly ask him, "What about you? Are you going to go too?". He chuckled and answer, "No, how can i go.. this will need a little bit longer time to heal". Hearing that, Jane starts to look concern and sad, even though, just a second before she looks so excited with this trip. Knowing Jane have a little bit issue with separating with her loved ones, even if it's only several day, Scoups side hug her and keep reminding her, "It's okay. You'll be okay. I'm going to be okay. We're all going to be okay. Go have fun".

"OK! You only have 3 minutes to prepare. Go go go!" Na PD announce.

"WOAH, Thank god i packed my bags already. I'm a prepare child, no wonder my MBTI is 'J' '", Jane talked with the cameraman. The next moment we know, she comes back in frame looking more fresh now that she already washed her face and teeth. She quickly put on some moisturiser and put on some lip gloss. "Y'know, i feel like i'm cheating the system here by packing a small bag, but who cares, i'm just a girl hihi."

She entered the room with her finished look wrapped in a cardigan and a simple shoes. She was greeted by Na PD saying, "Ah! Bag is not allowed. It's going to get confiscated. Put it here".

Jane trying to protect her belongings by stating, "Just this small pouch! Can i just bring this pouch? this is my necessity items". Girls that get it, get it. She get a pass... BUT, only a small pouch.

Seventeen members are still speechless though (even Jane herself), they can't believe to be fooled that easily by Na PD. "To be honest, it's really hard to fool all 14 of us", Dino said.

"It's really not easy! It's really not easy!", the others comments too.

"Especially, Jane. She could always predict when something's coming!"

A while later, 6.30. Time to head to the bus. On her way to go downstairs, she saw PLEDIS CEO... "OH- 대표님!", she urged to hug him before she go inside the elevator. "Have fun, okay?" he command.

"Sir yes sir!"

Before entering the bus, she went straight to have a goodbye hug with Scoups. "I'm going to miss you, A LOT" She said, hiding her face in his neck crook. He replied, "I'm going to miss you too nooka", while hugging her back.

He starts to let go of their hug, caressing her cheek, "Go, the others waiting for you". She looks at his eye, "Wait for me okay! I'm going to go back and bring you many maany souvenirs"

At Incheon Airport, while waiting for boarding time to Rome, she stopped by a bookstore. After looking around, she decided to buy one, to accompany her during the long flight.

At the same time when Mingyu's accident (his passport when missing) happened, Jane disappears too. Wonwoo's, being the first one to noticed it, tell the others, even to the staff that haven't board yet, to help look out for her. But, before the staff could go further into panic mode, Jane appeared from the plane's bathroom.

"Sunu-ya, you scared us to death. I thought you haven't boarded and got lost", Wonwoo approached her.

"Wah, what is wrong with today. Don't give me another heart attack please. I'm begging you. And, DK, why? just whyy DK-ya?", Na PD said inside the plane. The others just chuckled.

Throughout the flight, Jane just read her book. Being bored, Wonwoo starts to get curious and kept on peeking on her. "Watchu reading?", he said trying to get her attention. Receiving no reaction from Jane, he playfully grab her hand and starts playing with her fingers.

" 'The Collected Regrets of Clover', it's sooo good", she answered. Just as she's going to flip to the next page, she can't move her hand. She tried to wiggle it out, but there's no use. Her hand is still intact with his hand. "Wonu oppa, i can't flip the next page", she complained.

"I could do it for you!", he said, flipping the page grinning.

Once they landed in Rome, Jane and the other korean members went straight to the bus after they're done with the migration. Jane decided to stick with Wonwoo and have a seat beside him. While waiting, she decided to contact her mom and Scoups informing that they already landed safely.

She leaned on Wonwoo's shoulder, occasionally peeking his phone to see him playing 'Go-Stop' with the others.

Once The8 and Jun complete their migration process, the bus started to move.

"Oh! You came"

"You're here"

"Great job"

"Come on, come on, come on"

Jane's start chatting with Jun who's seated right behind her. "You okay?". "Yeah, just tired", he answered.

"The line must be long, aigoo, you did a great job juni oppa. Here, take a choco bar i steal from the airplane", she offers

"Ah, thanks uki!"

"You too Hao oppa", giving another choco bar to The8, who's sitting not far from her.

Not being in the conversation with the others, Jane's confused on why everyone's laughing. She just stare at Wonwoo, asking 'what happened' with her eyes. "Ah, the airport is called Lenoardo da Vinci. But, DK suddenly just said, Vernon, he thought it was the other Leondardo DiCaprio", he explained.

"Ahhh", hearing that, Jane needs time to process. Then, realisation hit her. Chuckling and teasing DK. But, she get teased back because she realized too late, the joke was already stale.

Once they arrive in front of the colosseum, Jane was so amazed by it. It never conquer to her that it will be this massive big. Then, they took their own time to observe and look around.

Jane followed The8 to observe and admire it by their own eyes (not forgetting to take a picture too!).

Before they all went back, they took a photo with Scoups whose in the phone with Hoshi. "Go back to sleep, don't forget to eat the medicine. Bye bye coupsie oppa!", Jane added before Hoshi ended the call.

Arriving at the Airbnb, she decided to live in the same room with Dino and Jun. Then, she play a game that Na PD insisted, until, he decided to end it because it's hopeless seeing the member keep winning in every round. Before going to bed, they receive a letter that Scoups wrote, which ofc Jane voluntary ask if she can read it.

" Thank you for picking my letter. I feel so sorry for you guys going without any preparation. I will be waiting for you well in Korea. You can use this card however you want, okay? Have fun. I love you.", she read it aloud.

FUN FACT: the voice behind "Nana tour~" in between scene is actually jane's voice

[redroomreflections]

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story Chapter Three

Natasha Romanoff x Black!Fem! Reader

Note: This is a repost from my since deactivated account Natsxaddiction. I will be adding the shorter stories to here; 20 chapters or less - sorry TLH fans =(

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Chapter 3/20 (A completed story)

Summary: Natasha and Reader are married. They get into an accident where Natasha suffers serious injuries including amnesia. Natasha no longer remembers her life with reader and their children. All she remembers are her days loving Bruce.

W/c: 3.1k

When Natasha awakens she finds herself in an empty bed. She spreads her fingers out over the cool sheets beside her, it lets her know your spot has been empty for a while. She turns her head to see the first few rays of sunlight shining through the windows. She can hear the birds chirping as she closes her eyes again. She stretches all the while yawning. She pushes the sheets down towards her feet. Where could you be? Almost as if you read her mind, the bedroom door opens to reveal you in nothing but a plain white scoop-neck t-shirt that barely reaches your thighs and a plate of food and two cups in your hands. She has to wonder how you’re balancing all of this.

“You’re already awake?” You’re a bit surprised as you step further into the room. You set everything on the nightstand closest to Natasha. Before you have a chance to say anything else, her arms are tugging you to straddle her. She doesn’t mind the weight of you on top of her. In fact, she enjoys it. You struggle with where to place your hands so you opt to leave them by your side. Natasha on the other hand doesn’t.

“Hey,” She murmurs. She runs her hands over your bare thighs, as she finds the waistband of your panties. She pulls the elastic from your skin to snap it back. “You look good in my clothes.” She scrapes her nails down your thighs causing goosebumps.

“Hi back,” You lean down to kiss her lips. Realizing her fingers are traveling dangerously close to your center you sit up again. “Was last night not enough for you?” You smirk. “It’s never enough,” She returns her hands to a safe space.

“I’ll remember that,” You nod. “We have about a half-hour of silence before the girls are awake.” You reach over to the nightstand to take a piece of chocolate chip muffin for yourself. Breaking it in half, you push a piece between her waiting lips. “Good right?” You nod between chewing.

There’s a shared silence between you. You simply chewing while Natasha’s eyes have traveled elsewhere along with her fingers that are again tracing the outline of your center over your panties. She’s insanely horny this morning though you’re not complaining. Not one bit.

“I was on the phone this morning,” You begin and her fingers still. “With my doctor. Just routine stuff and I was asking her about the process of IVF and everything like that.” Natasha looks at you with an eager expression on her face.

“She said that everything looks healthy and we could start whenever we are ready,” You take a deep breath. “Nat, I think that I’m ready.” You finally get it out. She has this wide smile on her face. One that’s only reserved for you. It screams love and adoration. You let out a scream once you’re flipped over. Natasha is quick with her movements. She’s showering your face with kisses as you giggle under her. Finally when she feels like you’ve had enough she kisses you on the lips.

“We’re having a baby?” She questions. She leans over you as she slots herself between your legs.

“Well not at this moment,” You quip. “But yeah, we are.” You nod. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. You look to the open door of the bedroom and then back to Natasha. “If we ignore it they’ll go away,” She groans. The knocking continues much to your chagrin.

“I don’t think it will,” You sigh. The knocking is louder. Just three taps.

Natasha is torn from her dream, opening her eyes to darkness, as she attempts to breathe deeply. The pain in her side shoots through her and she mutters a curse under her breath. Squinting her eyes, she reaches out for the nightstand finding what feels like a familiar piece of metal. Her phone. It’s new it seems. Not a crack or dent in it. Did you buy it recently? She presses the power button, flooding her eyes with light, to see the time. 9 am. Had she slept an entire day? Everything from last night is a blur. She remembers coming home, you carrying her up the stairs, and then falling asleep. Surely she wasn’t that tired?

Her stomach growls right on time. She has to find the bathroom and then the kitchen. She pushes herself to stand, ignoring every fiber of her being screaming at her not to open the bedroom door. She can hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the first floor. The girls are home. There’s another voice along with yours. Maybe a woman. She can’t tell. Deciding that her bladder could wait, Natasha walks over to the steps. She goes down each one getting to the bottom at the same time you close the front door.

You turn around to find her staring back at you. You would be a bit startled if you couldn’t feel her energy. It’s different and you hate to admit that it may have something to do with her memory loss. Either way, it’s not something to address right now.

“Natasha, you’re awake,” You breathe. She’s reminded of her dream and how happy you sounded when uttering those same words.

“I heard the door,” She nods towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, that was my sister bringing the girls home,” You walk over to her in case she needs help. “It’s time for your pain medicine,” You remind her.

“Why’d you let me sleep so long?” She questions as she helps herself to solid ground.

“You seemed tired,” You drop your hands to your side. “The girls are in the kitchen. They’re excited to see you.” You walk with her. You’re not really expecting a response. Natasha’s entire demeanor changes when she sees them. Which gives you a bit of happiness. Olivia and Lily are sitting on the floor, sharing cheerios, and passing the bowl between each other.

Lily spots her first. She abandons her food to toddle over to Natasha and hug her legs. She raises one finger, her sign for up, and you’re there to intercept. You scoop her into your arms to stand close enough to Natasha so that she can give her a kiss. Next is Olivia who’s content with a hug.

“Mama, you’re home from the hospital?” Olivia lifts her head to look up at Natasha.

“Yes, I am,” Natasha caresses her cheek.

“So you’re all better?”

“Not yet but I’m getting there,” Natasha says truthfully. You leave Natasha and the girls to make her breakfast. A simple coffee and pancakes that you’d prepared only twenty minutes earlier. When she’s sitting you hand everything to her along with the medicine bottle. “Thank you.” She says. She wants to talk more with you but the girls take her time. You don’t mind. You have a bit of laundry to do.

You leave the girls to compile everything before going down into the cellar for laundry. You take your time dividing, organizing, and setting the directions to what they need to be. You’re not purposely avoiding Natasha but you’re not in the mood. The past week has also exhausted you beyond belief. There’s been so much back and forth. Between you and Olivia’s school, you and the rest of the team, you and insurance, you and your lawyer, you and Natasha. For now, you’d just like to sleep and rest.

There’s a sharp pain in your stomach and you bend over to relieve the pressure. The stress of it all is becoming a bit much. You rest your hand on your arms, breathing in and out, as you listen to the hum of the washing machine.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha questions and this time you are startled.

You stand up straight, your hand resting on your hip, as you take another breath.

“Jesus,” You look over to her. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope, just taking a tour of the rest of the house,” She purses her lips. You guess that’s fine. Though you can tell when she’s lying. “I have a question and I want you to give me a straight answer.”

“Okay,”

“Are you pregnant?” She gets straight to the point. For a moment, you’re wondering if she’s remembering bits and pieces of life before. That would certainly explain the odd question.

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m not.”

Natasha swallows thickly before nodding.

“What gave you that impression?”

“Steve said something. Don’t worry about it.” She turns back to go upstairs.

“We were trying,” You find yourself explaining. Anything to get her to talk to you. You just miss her is all. “Before the accident.” You continue when she meets your eye again. “We both decided to try for a baby and I’ve been taking hormones and preparing for the first cycle. Our first appointment for insemination was the day after the, um, the accident.” You finish weakly.

There’s an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha apologizes. She doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be,” You finish the folding. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” You regret saying that last part. Natasha is going to ask you to elaborate before Olivia comes to the door.

“Mama, Mommy, what you guys doing down there?” Olivia asks.

“Laundry, Mouse.” You answer. “Are you done with your cheerios?”

“Yep,” Olivia answers. “Lily says she has to potty. You have to come quick.” She urges and you know there’s no time to waste.

“I have to get them,” You point to the stairs where you scoot past her. “Explore more if you want.” You encourage. You leave Natasha on her own once again.

She doesn’t step further into the cellar. Instead, she follows the path you’ve taken up the stairs. She does a general sweep all the while listening to the noise the girls make as you help them with the bathroom. She searches the kitchen first. She kneels down, opening the cabinet that leads to the kitchen sink, reaching her fingers to find a locked box. She pulls it towards her, finding there’s a combination before she shakes it. What’s the pin? It’s easy for her really and it comes to her. Yelena’s birthday. 05-23-89. The box pops open to reveal a sleek back gun. A Glock 43x. She closes it quickly, hiding it once again to finish what she started. She finds several more guns scattered around the first floor. No doubt her doing. They’re all locked away in places the girls won’t find. The house is efficiently babyproofed and then some. Next, she checks the security system which is controlled from her office. It’s amazing what this thing does. She knows Tony may have had a hand in building it.

Everything here is so safe. So new. So domestic. From the toys on the floor, the pictures, the decorations. It’s all a bit overwhelming. She doesn’t move from her office chair, clicking out of the many applications she opened, to find a picture of her family as her screensaver. It’s a fall shoot. Had to be recent. You’re all dressed in various shades of brown. Your arm is wrapped around her waist, holding her close, as the girls run towards the camera. There’s pure joy on her face and yours as the photographer snaps a photo. She moves the mouse, scrolling through a few more files when she reaches one titled Top Secret - Do Not Open - Mission Only. Naturally, this piques her interest. She clicks on the file only to realize it requires a password. She attempts Yelena’s birthday again and it’s wrong. This only makes her want to enter it more.

“Mama, what you doing in here?” Olivia interrupts again. Natasha is a bit amused. She’s never had someone want to be with her 24/7. “Working?”

“No, I’m not working,” Natasha denies. “I’m trying to get this file open.” She pushes herself back enough for Olivia to climb into her lap. “You wouldn’t happen to know the password?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Olivia shrugs. “Try Mommy’s birthday. That opens the iPad. I not supposed to play the iPad though. It’s a secret.” She presses her finger to her lip.

Natasha smiles at that. “I won’t tell.” She promises. Natasha clicks through a few of her calendars to find your birthday. She returns to the file, opting to view it in front of Olivia since she can’t read, and low and behold the file opens. There’s a series of pictures and videos that are way too small for her to see. So she clicks on a random video. She and Olivia view it with interest.

It’s you stepping in front of the camera. You’re dressed modestly. A simple trench coat, your hair slicked back into a ponytail, and she can’t see your shoes. Natasha’s eyes narrow when you begin to unbutton the coat. If she were any less aware Olivia would be getting an eyeful as you drop the trench coat to reveal yourself in a thin piece of lacy black lingerie and no bra. Thanks to her quick reflexes she’s able to cover Olivia’s eyes while clicking out of the video.

“Mama,” Olivia whines at her lack of vision. Upon further review of the files, Natasha realizes a lot of these are sex tapes. Varying lengths and scenarios. She has to shoot down the arousal she feels in favor of cutting the computer off. Her snooping was done for the day.

“Liv, where are you?” You call out. Natasha pushes her chair out and away from the desk as Olivia slides down from her lap. You enter the office where you find both of them.

“Mommy, why you didn’t have clothes on?” Olivia asks and you look down at yourself.

“What? What are you talking about?” You ask and Natasha answers for her.

“Nothing, she just saw a random picture of you in a swimsuit I found on the computer,” She lies so easily. You nod though you’re not so convinced.

“I was going to take them on a walk through the neighborhood if you’d like to join,” You offer though you’re not really expecting her to say yes. “It’s just a couple of blocks and it won’t be too rigorous.”

“I think I’m going to hang back,” Natasha says.

“I want to stay with Mama,” Olivia adds and you’re a bit surprised at that. You look to Natasha for confirmation and she nods. It’s fine with her.

“Okay, I’ll be back.” You promise. You take Lily in her stroller, signing to her that you’ll be taking a walk before you head out. The walk is refreshing. You’ve been feeling a bit anxious all day and putting that energy into something that feels productive is best.

Lily seems interested enough. Her head turns every which way, and she waves at strangers, as you walk further into the neighborhood. You don’t have a particular destination in mind. All you know is that you needed to think.

**************************************

Back at home, Natasha is on her very first episode of Peppa Pig. She’s not paying attention. Not truly. It makes Olivia happy and that’s all she's really thinking about. She figures Olivia could be alone for a few minutes. She goes up to the second floor to search for one thing. She finds her phone right where she left it. This time there's no password. She scrolls through her contacts, finding the only one she’s been thinking about, to press call. It rings only three times before someone picks up.

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” He greets.

“Bruce,” Natasha breathes.

“Natasha,” Bruce says back. She can hear him rustling papers in the background. “Hey, how are you? I heard what happened? Is y/n okay? What about the girls?”

“They’re fine,” Natasha answers. “ How are you?”

“I’m good,” He says and Natasha figures there’s something about his tone that he’s not saying.

“Is this a bad time?”

“N-no, it’s just, Natasha you haven’t called me in years,” Bruce explains.

“Yeah, well, I lost my memories and everything went left. The last thing I remember is Ultron,” She shrugs to herself.

“Jesus,” He curses. “Nat, that’s, wow. Retrograde?” He guesses.

“That’s the one,” Natasha’s voice is lower. Like silk. “I was wondering if we could meet up. I figured you wouldn’t lie to me about everything that went down.”

“Why haven’t you asked your wife? She was there.” Bruce says instead.

Natasha furrows her brow. “She said we met during Ultron but she wouldn’t know about everything. Right?”

Immediately Bruce understands the details you kept out. It may be for her own good. Natasha is a lethal weapon. She also has a bit of a temper at times and he’s been on the receiving end of that once or twice.

“Look, Nat, it’s complicated.” Bruce holds the phone to his ear. “I’ll meet with you but I really think you should speak with Y/n first.” He tells her.

“Yeah, I will.” Natasha looks to the bedroom door. “I’ll give you a time and date later.” She hangs up without a goodbye. If you’re hiding things from her she’d like to know. Natasha returns downstairs to sit with Olivia. She’s curious now. She doesn’t like things being hidden from her. She has to know.

*************************

When you return you find what you consider to be the cutest sight ever. Natasha is lying on the couch, Olivia curled into her side, as Peppa Pig reruns play in the background. They’re both clearly tuckered out and you don’t want to interrupt them. Lily is sleeping in her stroller. You opt on taking her to her crib. Then maybe you can shower. Lily doesn’t stir when you set her down. Next is the shower. You strip slowly stepping under the water to allow the heat to ease your aching muscles. Maybe a visit to Wanda where you could cuddle with her was needed.

You close your eyes, leaning your forehead against the cool tile of the shower, and you think about everything that’s happened the past week. You picture yourself in the car, you see Natasha, the music, and the way the steering wheel feels under your hands. Everything feels like it’s right here at your fingertips.

You’re not able to control your breathing and it all becomes too much. You can see the purple forcefield surrounding you as you raise your hands and brace yourself for impact.

The sound of crunching glass is all you hear before you slide down the wall.

Was it all your fault?

When you finally remove yourself from the shower you feel refreshed. You’re dressing when Natasha steps into the bedroom.

“I want you to tell me about everything that happened after Clint’s farm,” She demands. Her voice is not what you’re used to. At least not when it’s directed towards you. She’s Black Widow right now and not any version of Natasha you know intimately. “How did we meet?” She demands.

You’re amazed she hasn’t put it all together by now. You grab your shirt from the dresser to pull it on. Here goes nothing.

----> next part

[faithst]

WAKING ZB1 UP FOR A KISS

pairing zb1 (ot8) x gn!reader

genre fluff, a bit suggestive in matthew’s

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

hao came back from practice, obviously tired

and went straight to bed 🛏

no shower, no ‘goodnight’

of course, you didn’t mind because hao is always working so hard that he deserves all the rest he could get

but you just couldn’t sleep without a kiss from him 😔

he felt your twists and turns and woke up asking ‘are you okay?’

you felt bad for waking him up but you couldn’t lie to him

“i can’t sleep.. i know you’re tired but can i have a goodnight kiss?”

he’s mentally blaming himself for forgetting to do that 😦

but either way, he thinks you’re so cute that you can’t sleep without a kiss from him

“i’m sorry for forgetting.. come here and let’s get some sleep.”

— sung hanbin

hanbin never forgets to give you kisses

ig you just wanted more (who doesn’t?) 🤭

he was sleeping so soundly that you almost felt bad

he seems like a light sleeper to me

“hanbin…” you shake his shoulder softly

eyes fluttering open “hmm..? what’s wrong?” he says, turning to face you

“well.. it’s kinda dumb..” you fiddle with your fingers

that damn smile he had could kill millions 😤

“any thought of yours isn’t dumb. tell me.”

“i just wanted another kiss..”

he starts giggling sm

“just one? are you sure?”

— seok matthew

you wanted a kiss, nothing else

so you woke him up

or atleast tried to.. 😐

“five more minutes..” pulling the blanket over his head

“matthew! i want a kiss!” you whined, attempting to pull the blanket back down

suddenly he’s awake

“you want a kiss?” “yes”

has a smirk “oh my god! you’re so whipped for me!”

becomes so cocky “i bet you love my lips on you.” 🫢

he finally gives you a kiss like you wanted tho

“do you want a kiss somewhere else too?”

— shen ricky

you had trouble sleeping this particular night

and thought it was a good idea to get a kiss from ricky

“ricky.. can you wake up..?” you ask, tapping his shoulder lightly

he responds w incoherent sounds

pls let the boy sleep 😭

“ricky.. i can’t sleep. can i have a kiss?”

instantly wakes up

“a kiss? suddenly?” he asks but still gives you a kiss

he becomes soooo shy after that 🤭

like his ears are so red but its dark so you can’t see them

tries to keep his cool

“let’s try sleeping, okay?”

— park gunwook

i think he’s a pretty light sleeper

not light light but light enough to wake up easily

you pat his shoulder and he’s instantly like

“what’s going on?” he says, voice groggy

turns around to face you, eyes half shut

“hi gunwook.” 😃

doesn’t respond and just stares

“can i give you a kiss?”

yep, he’s the one that asks instead 🫠

pulls you closer to him and kisses your forehead

“can we stay like this forever?”

— kim taerae

taerae wasn’t fully asleep

like he was about to sleep

his eyes were shut but he could feel your stare

“is there something you need?” he asks, pulling you closer to him by the waist 🫠

no response but he noticed you staring at his lips

has that wide smile

maybe lets out a giggle or two bcuz he thinks you’re so cute like that

“mm.. you want a kiss?” and you instantly nod 🤭

even WIDER smile

eventually kisses your whole face

“so cute..”

— kim gyuvin

usually you can sleep just fine because there’s no room for kisses or ‘goodnights’ when he falls asleep the minute he plops down onto bed 😤

but you just felt the need to have a kiss from gyuvin today

you tapped his shoulder. no response

poked his cheek. nope

pat his hea- “what is it?” he asks, a bit annoyed

“can i have a kiss?” he was taken aback

“you woke me up for a kiss?” “yeah?”

just falls back asleep 😭

“fine! i’ll go ask some from someone els-“

instantly sits up and attacks you with kisses 🥰

“shut up, go to sleep.”

— kim jiwoong

jiwoong fell asleep while cuddling you and didn’t give you a kiss

and you couldn’t just sleep without his kiss !

so you woke him up

“jiwoong… jiwoong.. jiwoong!” you finally let out a whisper-yell

his eyes immediately open, a bit startled 😦

“hi. hello. what happened?”

“you didn’t give me a kiss” you pout

he smiles and pulls you closer to his chest

literally kisses you to sleep

sings you a lullaby too 🫶

“goodnight, my love.”

© keiwook | 2023

[webslingingslasher]

let 🥡 smash ethan keznek 2023

— 🥡

that moment when you hook peter's best friend up w someone -tbh this could be an intro to more ethan works. this was me testing the waters.

peter told you not to get involved; too bad you don’t need permission.

however, you didn’t want to get scolded before necessary, so, you creeped out of peter's bed one early morning, gently removing his arm from your waist, sending him to roll over on his stomach with a harsh snore.

walking on tip toes before slowly opening his bedroom door, closing it by turning the doorknob all the way for a silent latch. keeping the same stealth for ethan’s door.

he's still sleeping and doesn't falter for even a second after you click the door shut.

his room was much brighter than peter’s. you had no idea how he could sleep in it. for the third year, he’s refused to get curtains. “why would i waste my money? think about it, when you go to bed it’s dark, so what’s it matter?”

ethan’s nuzzled into a pillow, his mouth open as he breathes harshly. you look behind you, paranoid peter's followed you into the room, about to catch you with your hand in the cookie jar, but you’re shut in alone.

poking at his shoulder his body slumps more to the side, you poke again. he stops breathing for a second, then takes a large inhale, smacking his lips and raising the sheets up to his chin.

“pst.... ethan,” you poke several times.

“ethan!” a whisper means nothing, you shake his arm hard. it sends him flying up, nearly smacking your forehead with his, his eyes not caught up to who woke him, about to shout, you cover his mouth with your hand.

“we have to be quiet, peter can’t know.”

he's awake in a second, alarm bells ringing in his head.

his body flies backwards, his back hitting the wall his bed’s against. you wince at the collison, his voice pitched.

“no. no way, man. i’m not doing that to him. parker’s all about you, i can’t do that.”

you sit on the edge of his bed and crawl until your knees are brushing against his shins.

“shhh! don't worry about it, he doesn't have to find out, you know? we can keep it between us. just be quiet, okay?"

ethan's shaking his head in a fury, "no, i can't. we can't. this isn't you, if you leave now i'll... i'll keep it between us."

"c'mon it's not the first time i've kept a secret from peter."

his voice tilted, "you've done this before?"

"well... i try not to make it a habit or anything. but, he doesn't need to know everything does he?"

ethan looks away from you, his figure deflated. "ah, trouble. that's... that's not cool. he really, really loves you. like, more than he's loved anyone. this is gonna break his heart."

you furrow your eyebrows and reach out to pat his arm, he rips it away from you. "ethan, it's not that serious. he'll be annoyed but he's not gonna hate me."

"no, this is gonna fucking ruin him. you don't understand what he's done to become the person you deserve. or, i guess now it's the person he thought he deserved."

you want to throw a tantrum, "why are you being so mean? you're not mean to me, ever. that's why i like you."

ethan sits up, "mean? i'm being mean? you're the one trying to fuck your boyfriends best friend and i'm the one being targeted?"

it takes a second, but your eyes go wide and you gasp.

"oh no! no, no. that's not what's happening right now, ethan. i see-" you clear your throat and look away from him for a second, slightly embarrassed. "i see how you could think that, i was being a little cryptic."

"uh huh."

you feel offended, "woah, okay, don't act like i'm switching stories because you rejected me. cause that's not what's happening."

ethan narrows his eyes, "uh. huh."

"don't think so low of me, that hurts! i was trying to- alright fine, hold on, let me start over."

you shake your shoulders out and take a deep breath, "technically, you're like... half right. i am trying to get you laid, but like... not.. with me?"

he’s weary, “uh huh. and parker can’t know?”

you shake your head, “okay, see, the funny this is, i told him to tell you and he said no, so i said i’d tell you, and he told me not to get involved. but, i mean, i have a good feeling about this!”

it goes quiet for a moment, you can almost hear him thinking about your words. scratching at his head, hair sticking straight up. ethan rubs his nose before shaking his head with the new information.

“okay, hold on,” he hold his hand up, “you want me get me laid, but not with you, and also, parker can’t know you want to get me laid, but not with you?”

you nod, “yes, exactly.”

ethan hasn’t bought a word of your shit. too many excuses. he takes a deep inhale, then explodes, “parker! park-“ you dive bomb into him, laying halfway across him while you slap your hand over his mouth. he gives you wide eyes, holding his hands up, scared to touch you.

if peter were to catch him with you on him like this, especially if he's touching you, he'd be a dead man.

you're thrown over his lap, he's only in boxers and you're only in his best friends shirt, and he doesn't have a good feeling about you having super short pants underneath it.

you didn't even hear the door open, just breathing harshly down at his friend. you hiss at him, “shut up!” ethan looks petrified, “i told you, peter can’t know!”

your shirt is tugged from behind, it goes tight on your throat. a third voice is in the room. “off.” it’s stern, but not upset. it makes you turn politely, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend innocently.

“it’s not what it looks like,” because given the position, you’re half straddling ethan while he’s ninety eight percent naked. peter nods, “i know it’s not. it’s worse, you got involved.”

deny, deny, deny.

“nope, actually, i’m laying it on thick. this entire thing has been a ploy to get to ethan the entire time."

your shirts tugged again, this time stricter, "off." you back up gently, trying not to brush against him too much, peter nodding apologetically at his best friend when he's untrapped.

"sorry, e. i told her to leave you alone."

"but, peter!" you struggle agaisnt his hold, "c'mon, ethan! just hear me out, i mean, aren't you just a little curious?"

now he knows you were being truthful and weren't trying to secretly hook up with him he's a tad interested, and if you're so sure about this why would peter keep some tail from him?

"well... since we're all up."

peter scoffs and pushes you towards his bed, "fuck this, i'm going back to sleep. keep your body off of his, alright, trouble?" you salute him, "okay! see you in a minute, love you," you hit him with a kissy face, he supplies, "uh huh, sure."

you clasp your hands and grin at ethan, "okay, so," you sit back down next to him on his bed, turning your body to face him better, "her name is taylor, and she's super into you."

"and she's your friend?" it would make sense why peter didn't want him to know. it's a dangerous road to tag-team them both.

"well... she kinda is now. we met at a party here, i was going to the bathroom and she walked into peter's room, cause she was also looking for the bathroom, and then we started talking cause she walked in on me mid piss, and she's actually so cool."

you talk with your hands, "like, i dunno, you guys just have a similar vibe and i can just feel like it's a good thing. and i told peter about it but he was just like, 'you guys were just drunk,' and 'this is a set up, i don't trust it.'"

ethan's doing his best to follow you but it's seven in the morning.

"a set up?"

"peter doesn't trust it because he thinks she asked me if i could help her out with you."

"why?"

"she shares an economics class with you, and parties here a lot, and knows i'm dating peter so when we met it was like fate."

"and...?"

well, there's not much after that.

"i mean, that's kinda it. she likes you and she's really cool and you make her nervous so i figured i'd try and help her out."

ethan gives you a dumb face and pulls his blanket back over him, "you woke me up for that? get outta here, go back to parker."

you frown and pull at his arm, "no, no, no, hear me out. she's coming to the party tonight, just let me introduce you guys. and just so you know, she didn't ask for this. i just have a good feeling, you know, like how you did with peter and i?"

and ethan has to give you the benefit of the doubt, he clicks his tongue after he thought it over.

"alright, i'll meet her. but no promises."

you squeal and pull him in for a hug, which he shrugs off and wipes your touch off him. "gross."

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

peter's busy directing a pledge around but your thing is more important.

rushing up to him you rest your hands on his chest, he doesn't even spare you a glance. "just move it over there, no! not- can you understand directions?"

growing impatient you push against him, "peter," his hands wrap around you, pulling you in for a hug, eyes on the struggling teen, "yes, trouble?"

"do you-"

peter whispers a curse under his breath, his chest hums under your ear. "c'mon, pledge! you're not even trying, just put the fucking table to the right." furniture scrapes of the floor and makes a horrible sound, you wince until peter's hands cup your ears, muffling the movement.

when his hands pull away you have his undivided attention, "sorry, trouble. what did you need?"

"do you know what ethan's wearing tonight?"

an unimpressed glance, "no, i don't think it's come up." a frown settles on your face, "okay, can i go check with him then?" your boyfriend sighs, "if you must, but, hey, trouble? i think this is a terrible idea."

"she didn't even ask me to say anything, petee-e-e?" almost letting the name slip around his brothers. "nice save, sweetheart. correct, she didn't ask, but it sounds like she was suggesting it."

"if you love me, you'll trust me when i say i have a good feeling."

peter can't deny that logic. blowing a breath he kisses the top of your head, "alright, go figure out what ethan's wearing then." before you could pull away from his hold he talks over your head, his chest vibrating while he spoke.

"i swear to god, pledge, you'll be cut, i'll send you out of here right fucking now." you poke his ribs, "be nicer and maybe he'll do better. you're freaking him out."

"are you telling me how to run my house?" you shrug and nudge into him further, "give it a try, you never know."

peter snaps his fingers, "jensen," the pledge jumps, "take a five. you're doing great, alright?" and seeing the refreshed smile on the kids face was proof enough for you.

"see? i'm always right."

"yeah, yeah, yeah."

-----------

it took a few hours, but taylor showed up. the second you saw her you did a happy dance in peter's hold, pure adrenaline had you boosting yourself up to kiss his jawline.

"taylor's here, should i find ethan now?"

a gentle pat at your back, "give the girl a second, maybe some liquid courage?"

you whine, "but i'm so excited! they're gonna date, and fall in love and then we'll go on double dates all the time." peter winced at your daydream, "i know, that's why i tried to forbit it."

ignoring him, as you've grown accustomed to, you keep the thoughts spinning. ethan had agreed to letting you introduce them, and taylor doesn't know you asked ethan, and taylor knows ethan but he doesn't know her.

so, if you could get them together, without getting them together, it would be even better. it would be like fate aligned, then, after they meet, you could act shocked when you tell ethan that's the taylor you were talking about.

your plan just might work, if you had a little help. demanding the attention you already have, you repeatedly poke at peter's chest. "hear me out, we set them up but kinda do a meet cute. cause then they're more in control than just some friends introducing them."

your boyfriend shook his head, "we? since you became my girlfriend it's a lot of 'we', this time it's a you. i want no part of this, trouble."

you wave him off, "no, you're obsessed with me. so, i'm thinking we try and get them to play a game of pong together, i mean, you'll have to get ethan in the kitchen but-"

peter's adamant, "no, no me. peter's not involved." to solidify his point he grew an invisible cross over his body.

tugging on his arm, you pout, "no! you have to! you're my boyfriend now, you can't be mean peter again."

"i'm not being mean! i'm just telling you i want no involvement, don't start with me."

it was honestly so rude of him to do this to you, "you're going to make me do this all alone?" peter can't help but laugh, "baby, this is all because of you."

it's true but he's supposed to support you no matter what.

"peter, please?" you think the puppy dog eyes are working, because he softens up, "trouble," you smile, waiting for his agreement, "no."

instantly grumpy, you swipe his hands off you, "oh, hey, don't be like this." you shake your head, "no, you hate me."

"for the six billionth time, i don't hate you."

"no, you-" you stop dead in your tracks, at least some universal force would help you out. because, who other than ethan would walk into the room taylor's in? no one, that's who.

"peter, do you see this right now?"

your back is pulled into his chest, an arm slung around your waist. "i do."

"what do we do?"

"nothing."

"i knew you'd say..." you hold your breath when taylor takes a few timid steps in ethan's direction. he's careless, humming to the song blasting and moving liquor bottles around. right when she got close enough for him to notice she backed off, turning right back for her friends.

"swing and a miss, trouble."

spinning in your boyfriend's hold you nod towards the kitchen, "i have to intervene."

"no, no you don't."

"yes, i have to. so, tell me you love me."

"no, it always encourages you to be bad."

"if i know you love me then i know you won't dump me. so, tell me you love me."

"nope, not happening, i don't condone this."

"peter! tell me you love me or i'm going to cry and know you hate me."

a groan, "trouble, i love you very much," you cheer, that's all you needed.

peter's hand caught yours to stop you from your plan, "but i don't like this. make your own decisions, and know i love you while you make them, but the idea of what you're doing makes me want to eat rocks."

"i stopped listening after 'trouble, i love you very much.'"

"of course you did. alright, fine, go play matchmaker."

you have his permission, it sends you across the living room and into the kitchen, bumping hips with peter's best friend.

"hi, friend," ethan looks up, ripping a chewed straw from his mouth.

"hello, trouble. how can i be of service?"

buying time you gesture to the array of bottles, "wanna make me one?" ethan hands you his cup, "try this first." your eyes flicker to the door way, taylor's tucked against the wall nibbling on her bottom lip when she sees you drink from his cup.

"yummy, make me a double."

"aye aye, captain."

you hum and tap your fingers on the counter, "any plans for tonight?" as he answers your question you scratch at a stain on his hat, "didn't you want me to meet your friend?"

"ooh, and we're planning the night around it?"

"more like hoping to get it out the way," ethan hands you your own solo cup. twisting ever so slightly, you line it up so that taylor's right behind your left shoulder, hoping ethan would glance up at any moment.

"she almost walked up to you, but split halfway through."

ethan's frowning when he pulls his drink down, the straw he was chewing on going back in his mouth.

"i'm not that scary, am i?"

"c'mon, ethan. ever had a crush?" he moves his head around, "sure, but at least i always went after what i wanted."

his eyes flicker up, and you know he's locked eyes with taylor. you can tell when he slowly stops chewing, his focus bouncing back to you, then behind you.

"is your friend around here or can we meet up later?"

you won, peter's going to be so annoyed, but you won.

"she's around, but we'll catch up." you pat his arm, "thanks for the drink, double."

ethan winked, "no problem, trouble."

peter rolled his eyes the second you made his way to him, "they're talking, do you see them talking?"

"ethan looks like he's having fun, morgan looks like she's about to puke."

"her name is taylor, and she's nervous!"

peter nods and finishes his drink, "taylor looks like she's about to puke."

you move to push at peter's back, his feet glue themselves to the floor while trying to look back at you.

"what are yo-"

"go get a drink and tell me what they're talking about."

he scoffs, "and i'm supposed to casually go out of my way to hang out behind them, just to get a jist of awkward flirting?" you know how much he hates it, and detests it, but this time he may give in.

"that's not the only way to listen in..." you trail waiting for him to catch the hint, he shuts it down immediately. "no. not happening." you push against his back, "c'mon, you never let me use your hidden talents."

peter leans back into your hands, "because if i do it once you'll want me to do it all the time." it's unfair and you use the same argument, "you know how much i like him and you never let me play with him."

"you play with him plenty, just not with the tricks."

you pull back to rope around his front, you give him doe eyes.

"just one time, i promise i will never, ever ask again."

peter knows he's playing with fire, he's made a clear line in the sand when it comes to you and spider-man but something in him tells him you really need this.

"just this once, i mean it, trouble."

you grab onto his shoulders, "really, you will? for me?"

"this is your one time pass, you wanna waste it on this?" he knows, and you know, this isn't the last time, but if he pretends it is maybe you'd back out.

"i have a good feeling." peter sighs and moves you to the side, "i'll be right back," you feel giddy, it's the first time you'll see spider-man in action. you zone in on your boyfriend, he moves around like normal, gets a drink, cleans up the counter a little, and you feel a tad disappointed.

peter seems totally normal, it makes sense, he's gotten used to flying under the radar. you watch ethan and taylor, she seems nervous but excited. she's laughing, you think it's a good thing.

it doesn't even look like peter's listening, you wonder if he's just acting like he his. you look around and don't see anyone, you speak low, nothing above a mumble in the music.

"peter? can you hear me?" he's pouring a drink from one cup to another, you huff, "peter." no reaction, "you're the worst boyfriend ever."

in a second he turns his neck, his eyes narrowed on your face while you look down to your feet. he was listening, and it makes you feel all melty. "i didn't mean it, i love you."

his look says 'no you don't.'

you're talking for the both of you, "it looked like you weren't paying attention, you're good at it." he takes an extra minute, then heads back.

you're swaying on your feet, excited for the new update.

"well?"

"it's going good."

"i swear to fucking god, peter, you give me more information right now or i'll dump you."

he holds his hand out, "alright, chill. your friend is smooth in an awkward way and ethan's eating it up. they've got some good banter going on, i'd be surprised if he didn't at least get her number tonight."

you squeal, "do you think he'll kiss her?" peter shrugs while he takes a sip from his solo cup. "probably."

"do you think he's made the connection that she's the taylor i was telling him about?"

he nods, "yeah."

"cool. what now?"

"nothing. you got what you wanted. just sit back and hang out."

"no! that can't be it! it doesn't feel satisfying. i need more!"

"this isn't a movie, trouble. you can't just skip to the good part."

"you're telling me you can't see the future?"

"no."

"that blows."

you shift around, it's driving you crazy. you had to walk away, otherwise you'd wonder over there or keep asking peter to listen in.

"i can't do this- give me a kiss, i'm finding my friends." you raise your chin and pucker, peter supplies a quick kiss. "tell you what, because i love you so much," you gasp, stars in your eyes at his confession. you'd never get annoyed at it, it's not often he says it first.

"i'll come grab you when they split up, just so you can bombard ethan."

"you're the best boyfriend ever."

"damn right i am, i'm making you eat your words, problem child.'

you squint at him and pucker again to silently ask for a kiss, "you're lucky you're cute."

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

an hour later and your groan into your boyfriend's shoulder, "this is torture. how are they still talking?"

"it's a good thing. i'll admit it, i hated it at first, but i've never seen ethan so invested in a girl before."

you may have a shot, "one more time?"

"no."

"but-"

"nope."

"you agr-"

"not happening. no way are you getting twice in one night."

"peter."

"no."

"peter."

"no."

"peter!"

"fuck, fine! jesus christ, give me a minute." you watch him close his eyes, slow deep breaths raised his chest. you poke his bicep gently, "peter-" he was gentle, "shhh."

you press your mouth into his shirt and breathe hot air into him, a minute later and he's shaking you off.

"i'll have you know, this is a very weird feeling. my senses are... different around you, and when you're around it's very distracting."

your head tilts, "really?"

he nods, "it's weird, but everything's going good over there. be happy!"

"weird how?"

"you take priority. when you're around and i try to focus on something else, you stay at the front of my mind. when you were calling my name earlier it tripped me the fuck up."

you hum, "i know why." peter's interested, "oh, really?" you nod, "yes, it's very simple. it's because you love me."

"you know what?" you shy away from his cheek kisses, "i think you are very right."

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

ethan spent the whole night with taylor, at some point they wondered from the kitchen to around the house. around the second hour you lost them entirely.

you shrugged it off and spent the rest of the night getting a little further than buzzed. finding peter in a swarm of friends, desperate for more than a hug.

"hi, trouble." peter tucks you under his arm, his thumb stroking your shoulder sent you wild. "hello," you nuzzle in closer, wrapping your arms around his middle.

you wait for a break in conversation, patiently nodding along and squeezing peter when he says something funny. when two brothers start to lightly bicker, you lean up, softly calling his name.

"hm?"

you motion for him to come closer, you hide your lips behind a cupped hand while you whispered.

"will you please come take care of me in the bedroom?"

peter's turn to whisper, "five minutes, meet you up there." before, you'd be a bit more sly, now that he's your boyfriend, you're proud of it. scrambling away to run up the stairs.

you take a moment to take your pants off, then bounce on the bed, because peter always lectured you when you did it around him. taking an extra minute to snoop around, not that there was a reason, and not that you couldn't do it with peter in the room. it just felt more sneaky.

you spread across your front and reached for his bedside table, nothing interesting on top. the drawer slid out, you peer at the contents and hum, condoms, lube, a couple 'dirty' poloroids he took of you. a few books, nothing you'd read, they seem more like textbooks than something fun to pass the time.

ripping a condom off the strip, you hold it up in the light and turn it. you invision the process of putting one on, you've never actually seen peter do it, one second he has it in his hand, the next,the wrappers on the ground and he's ready.

peter catches you in action, his eyebrows raised. "paranoid i'm poking holes?" you roll to your back and sit up, "do you think i could put this on you?"

"you wanna?"

"i've never done it before, is it hard?"

"i think the first couple times i used 'em i kinda fumbled. but hey, you got the expert guiding you."

you gasp, a smile takes over your face. "really, you'll let me?" your boyfriend let's out a soft laugh, "i don't see why not." peter walks to you and plucks the foil from your fingers, tossing it to the table. "hey! you said i could-"

"you can. but i need you to come on my tongue first, can you do that?"

you nod, wide eyed and sparkly, "yes, yes, i can do that."

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

still naked and blinking at your boyfriend you poke at his nose, "would it be weird if it waited for ethan in his room?"

peter's eyes stayed closed. "extremely."

"but i'm so curious! do you think they're gonna hook up tonight?"

he yawns, "no." you test him by scooching closer, not fully cuddling, but an arm thrown over his hips. "is that like, intuition?"peter tugs you to lay on his chest, you melt into him.

a hand drags up and down your back, "sure is, my best friend intuition." you groan, "we're going in there first thing in the morning and getting the details."

"we?"

"shut up, i know you're just as desperate for information as me."

"... fine, but i'm only going as your moral support."

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

ethan was not home when you woke up and your disappointment was visible.

"my day has been ruined."

"trouble, no it hasn't. give the man a second, you're like a kid on christmas."

"i'm gonna go nuts and it's gonna be your problem, what then?"

"it usually is, so same thing i always do?"

"ugh! this super sucks, i know i should've walked in there. it's eating me alive, like, i'm the one that set this up and i get left in the dust? does ethan think it's his relationship? cause, it's our relationship. without me he'd still be alone."

"damn, trouble, tell me how you really feel."

you jump. peter's pointing with a spatula behind you.

"good fuckin luck, buddy."

the star of the show was home, you cheer and attack him with a hug. ethan supplies gentle pats to your lower back. "where were you, did you go home with taylor, how did you like her, was i right, is there something there, did you kiss her?"

"oh my god, parker, come get your girl."

"oh no, i just pawned her off."

ethan wheezes when you squeeze him, "c'mon, tell me, tell me!" peter calls for you, "trouble, stop bouncing on my friend." you step away, "sorry."

"okay, okay, ready?"

it's everything you've been hoping for, you jump to the counter peter's closest to and swing your feet. ethan has your full attention, "so, went up to her, we were chatting, had a good talk, and got her number."

"and then?"

"we went out for breakfast this morning."

you turn to look for peter's reaction, he's already looking at yours. you nod ethan along, waiting for him to add more.

"and then?"

"uh, that's all."

peter leans over the island to fist bump him, "nice, man. happy for you."

you look at their faces, they seem done with it. no more talk, you're missing the entire story. you panic and shout out, "and then?"

"i told you everything!"

you huff, "no the fuck you didn't, you left out the giant details of everything else." ethan shrugs, "not really. she's cool, we got some breakfast. oh, she gave me her toast. and uh... parker, you saw her, right?"

"i did."

"she's nice looking, right?"

"she is."

ethan gestures to your boyfriend with his chin, "see? all caught up."

you were losing your mind, "really, that's all? nothing on what you talked about, or how you feel about her, no mention of a second date?"

"yeah, yeah, second date happening for sure. i dunno, trouble, guys aren't really like that. but, uh, good pick?"

you spun to peter, pointing in his face, "ha! i knew it, i knew it, i knew it! i told you they would be good together!"

"oh i never doubted you, i just didn't want this,' gesturing to your body, 'happening."

you look back to ethan, "when's the double date?"

peter and ethan respond at the same time, "not anytime soon."

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

bonus::

'hey, peter. did you know ethan and taylor have been together since their first date?'

'i did.'

'four months in and they're saying i love you.'

'they are.'

'and why couldn't that be us?'

'oh, i will not entertain this conversation again.'

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

bonus bonus:::

'you're cuter,'

'no, no, you're cuter.'

'well, you're the cutest!'

'no way, you're cuter than cute.'

'you're so cute you-'

you gag, 'peter, please make them stop.'

'oh no, trouble. this is what you wanted.'

[cybercl0ne]

Mine. // Stalker Shigaraki x f!reader // Part: 1

Summary: shigaraki has you in his arms and doesn’t plan on letting you go.

TW: 18+, stalking, non-con (rape), knife play, mentions of breeding, size kink

You wake up hazy and not in tune with much of anything. It’s pitch black and the atmosphere feels cold and thin. You frantically tried to remember the events that led you to this predicament but came up short when you blanked.

“Finally, you’re awake. I started to think I gave you to big of a dose.” A voice echos. You move your head in an attempt to identify the scratchy par-asocial voice. When you head the small chuckle the mystery man let out your mind glazed through the horrors that you forgot. You tried to move your arms and legs but quickly found out that they were bound. You mustered up your pride and opened your lips to beg.

“please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I’m begging you-“ you plead, rambling unknowing what the intention of this man was. Your face felt sweaty with fear as you felt the man’s hand graze your body. His hand tracing your collar bone, slowly traveling down your sly, clothed breast and down to your sleek calves. You shivered unintentionally under his touch, his slim cold fingers still feeling present on your skin.

“I’ve waited so long to have you. 2 years darling…~” the man says, lowering his fingers to uncover the blindfold that was attached to your face. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you say clearly of the man’s features. His blue and frizzy hair that looked unkempt, his slim appearance with an ounce of lean muscle, defined enough. “W-why are you doing this?” You cry out, looking for sympathy in the situation. But when you say the way his eyes were shielded by hearts and sinister thoughts you knew there was no sympathy to be given.

“To be honest I’m not so sure myself. I saw you one day and knew you were different from everyone else. You had a spark that ignited something in my dim world. I’d only been in your presence for a second but it felt as if I’d known you my entire life.” He rambled, his tent in his pants growing as you squirm to get away from this all to creepy confession. You swear you saw him drool as he confessed, his face locked on yours.

“I know this isn’t ideal but it’s something that we’ll work on together, and maybe soon you’ll even warm up to your new life, then we can start our family. Oh I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock and breed your cunt.~”

you shiver on the last part, your eyes growing but as you realize your situation. You looked around for any sign of life. You screamed as loud as you could, tugging and fighting against the hard restraints. Shigaraki rushed to close your mouth, wrapping the blindfold over your mouth.

“Darling I know this is a hard adjustment but trust me when I say screaming is not in your favor. If you wanna make it through our first time together without losing your tongue I strongly suggest keeping that voice down.” He warns, flashing his knife to your face. Your wide eyes trace it, mewling and whimpering as it drew closer to your cheek. you tried to protest as best you could, only gurgling nonsense through the gag in your mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch your precious body while you were awake for so long baby.~ I promise we’ll have lots of fun.” He says as he traces your chest with his lips. You whimper under the weird sensation of skin to skin, as you try to wriggle away. For the moment you completely ignore the fact that this man is responsible for all the weird and unexplained events that happen in your life that you always quickly dismissed. You squirmed harder, yelling muffled curses at him as tears fell down your face. “I wouldn’t be so quick to move.” He warns, bringing his knife with his lips as he moves to your supple breast, kneeding your nipple through the cheap thin fabric. You continue to whimper and fuss under the gag, it getting darker as it collects stray spit.

“it’s so lovely to hear you sing whimpers for me~ I want to take your gag off? Can I do that darling? Can I trust you’ll be a good girl and not scream?” You don’t respond as you continue to mewl under his touch, feeling and watching as he closes in on your pussy. Shigaraki unwraps your gag off your mouth, his face leaning into yours as his fingers glide to your wet panties.

you shake your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment, not wanting to see the man’s face as he smirked. “All for me baby? Your all soaked for me? I’m flattered.” He snickered as he took off your clothes, your bottom half coming off first, your upper half growing goosebumps as he shook it off of you. He slipped your homemade gag off in the process.

“p-please don’t I-I’ve never done anything like this before…” you whisper, your face feeling heated as you admit it. If Shigaraki could he would cum right now, the only stopping him is that he was saving it for you. So much of his cum wasted on his hand when it could be inside your body, a piece of him with you no matter where you are. Not that you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

“don’t worry we’ll go nice and slow~ at least I’ll try.” He added, whisking his fingers over your unprotected pussy, your slick coating his finger as he pushes it past your barrier. You arch your back instinctively, his long fingers reaching places you wouldn’t have thought they could go.

“I knew you’d like my fingers darling, I’ve seen the way you masterbated. Never being truly fulfilled by rubbing your poor clit. You need someone to satisfy you.” He ranted. Your pussy only grew more wet as he explained while thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “p-please… I-I don’t want it!” You begged, huffing as you pleaded, your body betraying you as a wet spot grew on the bed.

Shigaraki laughed, adding another finger in while thrusting his thumb onto your clit. You screeched, moaning for him to stop. “You know you can’t deny me! It’s what your body wants. You might be spewing no but your body tells me what you really want. What you need.” He monologues, giving your pussy a strong slap. You both listen to how your cunt squirts a small amount. You feel your stomach coiling as his hands speed up, your cunt squeezing around as he hits plush parts of your organs.

“I-I can’t hold it any longer! I-I’m gonna-“ you groan, closing your eyes tightly as you squeeze against his hand feeling yourself lose control. “yes baby, that’s it, cum on my fingers like the happy slut you are.” He says, placing his face close to your cunt to get front row seats to your cum. You rut your hips into his fingers as they ram their way in and out of you. As you arch your back you release, squirting hard over his fingers and face. You stick your tongue out as your mind goes blank. You’d never felt that way in your life, you saw mini sparks flying through your vision as your clit throbbed. Shigaraki happily slurped any parts of you he could catch, cunt hungry as he went into your pussy to suck and prod at your pussy for more of your sacred juices. You moaned, trying to shield them with your hand over your mouth, your cunt hitting his mouth heavily. “It seems like your sweet pussy wants this.” He chuckled under his breath, lapping up the last of your juices. You flinch as he gives your lips a hard smack, your slick bouncing off of your needy cunt as it clenches around nothing. “P-please just let me go… I-I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me-“ He quickly hushes you by pressing his lips on yours.

“Darling why would you wanna leave now? The fun’s just starting. This is just the beginning of our new life together!~” He rambled, kissing back down your body as he stroked his cock above your pussy, his pre cum dripping down your stomach. You observed his dick, watching as it twitched while you made consistent eye contact. Your eyes grew wide as he leaned his tip into your slit, lining it against you. You felt the small yet tense pressure as he gently pressed it against you. “N-no way! I-it’s not gonna fit!” You shrieked, wriggling around. Shigaraki pressed his hand down on your thigh, gripping you in place. “It’s bigger than it looks. I’ll make it fit baby, don’t worry you just lay down and keep crying tears for me~” he teases, stroking your face with his available hand. You shook your head, groaning at the tight intrusion as Shigaraki starts plowing through your cunt.

You arched your back, feeling your body set on fire as he kept going. Your eyes could shed tears fast enough as shigaraki finally bottomed out, finally inside you. You panted hard as Shigaraki paused for a quick intermission, taking the time and to kiss up and down your face, peppering you in praise. “You’re doing so damn good, taking my cock like a good girl. I told you it would fit baby, don’t you see my cock bulging your stomach, twitching just for you? Isn’t it beautiful?” He questions, staring at you smiling as brightly as possible while you closed your eyes and begged for this all to be some really fucked lucid dream. The searing pain went slightly down, your wincing slowly turning into neediness. Shigaraki took note on your reaction and took it as a sign to continue. “Is my cock hungry whore desperate for more? I guess all that begging was for foreplay.” He adds, coming close to your ear, rutting gently in and out of you, your stomach squeezing at every vein that hits past your walls. Shigaraki bends down to your face, kissing you passionately, also taking the advantage to thrust. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he locks his lips with yours. “Does it feel good honey? Do you like your lovers fat cock ramming inside you?” He playfully teases, pulling all the way out before slamming back in with a speedy pace. You cry out, for what you can’t be sure anymore. At first it was about being let go but now your mind was blank and the only thing stopping you from passing out from the rough pace was shigaraki’s soft yet menacing voice, scratching at your ears in the right place. You nod hesitantly, tears blinding you from clearly seeing his face. He grunts, his cock twitching as if he’s about to explode. “I said…” he winded up, pulling out of you and rubbing his tip on your clit, his twitching rose colored tip glazing your bruised hole. “Do you like my cock ramming inside you?” You wriggle to purposely pop his cock where it belongs, only to look desperate. You whine, feeling your close climax winding down, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Say it baby so I can stuff your pretty cunt~” “Say it so you can cum with me…” He glares, waiting for your words to fall from your lips, his red eyes blazing down on you. “Y-yes! Yes I love your big fat cock ramming into my little cunt!” You give in, swallowing your shame for sweet release that awaited you. Shigaraki made no attempts to hide how pleased he was with your lewd confession, slowly yet happily sliding his cock deep in your cunt, easily gliding to your cervix. You arch your back, the tense shock of intimacy driving you mad. Shigaraki loses control, feeling your neediness for him drove him over the edge as he grips your thighs, taking a bite of them as he pounds you crazily. Your tits bounce around so hard you get fearful they might come off. Shigaraki kisses praises into your collarbone, biting and licking it, leaving his mark as he feels himself drawing close. “g-gonna cum…g-gonna cum again!” You scream, clenching onto his shoulders, looking down at your pussy getting demolished by the fuck machine above you. “Shigaraki! D-don’t stop! God so good!” You say, your nerves sensitive as Shigaraki grunts, his eyes filled with desire as he dives for your perked breast, biting the hyper sensitive nipple.

“gonna cum to baby, cum on my cock. Go on, cum for your man!” He shouts, feeling himself drive over the edge. You cum, closing your eyes as they spark. He follows close behind, slamming on last time as deep as he can inside you, unloading his cum. You touch your stomach, tired and fucked out, you feel the warmth that burrows inside you as shigaraki slowly pulls out, his cock still twitching. He lays beside you, wrapping his arm around your naked body, his other hand holding your waist tight. “So fucking good, you’re such a good girl…” he whispers, kissing your hair, falling asleep.

As you come down from your high, your heart goes back to sinking, your pussy inflated with cum that’s still dripping out, and your mind a jumbled mess. You stare into the darkness, deciding that you’d wait a couple of minutes, hell, hours for him to fall asleep before you try and get up and move.

The clock shined bright, 6:00 A.M, the only thing in the room with light. You slowly got up, plucking his hand from your body carefully. Shigaraki rustles, grunting as he tightens for a second. His face growing into a scowl before he transitions back into a peaceful rest. You sigh a short lived breath of relief, not wanting to think about the consequences if he found you doing this. You got up, walking. You didn’t know where you were walking to. You didn’t even know if you were in an apartment anymore, you did know you needed to keep moving. So that’s what you did. “If I can just find anything…” you whispered to yourself, a sad attempt to soothe your fears. You felt like you were walking on pins, taking any wrong step could result in him waking-

“going somewhere?” Shigaraki said blank. His voice was flat and surprising. You jumped and didn’t dare look behind you, knowing whatever face he was making, he wasn’t gonna be any happier to see yours like this. He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead gripping your hair rough and clicking his tongue, disappointed. “Y/n I’m not new to this. I’ve stalked you for a long time now, you don’t think I wouldn’t notice that you weren’t sleeping? I’m almost hurt more by the fact you’d try that on me more than I am about your little “attempt” to leave me.” You kick and scream, shouting every curse in the book but he doesn’t respond, only gripping your hair tighter and dragging you down the hall. “I was just getting a drink! I-I wasn’t leaving! I-I needed to pee really bad I-“ He cuts you off, throwing you in a room. It’s almost as dark as the one you were just in, the only light that sourced you was the natural light of the sun that beamed through a very small window. “When you’re ready to behave and come out with a changed attitude we’ll try again. Until then, I’d recommend getting better at tricking me, don’t worry you’ve got a few days to practice.” He says, closing and locking the door quickly before his quiet footsteps leave you alone.

{—————————} Taglist:

@kai-213

[pjmparadise]

3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK

Pairing: jungkook x f! original character

Word count: 12.1k

Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based

Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)

Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.

“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)

a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.

a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3

Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.

His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.

“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.

“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”

“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”

Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”

“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”

Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”

Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”

Jungkook nodded from his living room.

“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”

Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”

“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.

Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.

He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.

The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.

“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.

Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.

Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.

Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.

Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.

He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”

Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.

Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!

Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.

He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.

Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.

“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.

It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.

Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.

Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.

She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?

Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.

Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.

“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.

She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.

Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”

“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.

So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.

“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”

“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”

“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”

“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.

“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 

Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!

“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.

“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”

“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.

He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.

“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”

“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.

“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”

Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.

With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”

Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?

Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.

“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.

“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”

“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says.

“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.

“I am,” he says, glancing her way.

It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.

Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”

Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”

She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”

“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”

She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.

“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.

He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.

“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”

“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”

“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”

“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”

“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”

“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”

“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”

“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”

“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”

Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”

“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.

“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”

“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.

“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”

He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.

The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.

“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”

“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”

“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”

Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”

It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”

“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.

“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”

“Most people sleep, I think.”

She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’

“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”

“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.

Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.

The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.

“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”

“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”

He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”

Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”

“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”

She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”

Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.

“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.

“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”

“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.

“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”

If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.

“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”

“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”

Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.

“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.

“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.

She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”

Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.

What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.

“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”

“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”

Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.

The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.

“I remember,” she says distractedly.

“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.

He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.

“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”

Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”

The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”

“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”

He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”

A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”

“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”

“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”

“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”

“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.

But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.

Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.

The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.

Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.

“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”

Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?

He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.

“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.

Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.

And here they are, five months later.

“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.

He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.

She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”

He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.

“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”

“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”

Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.

“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”

She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.

“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.

She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”

“Right,” he says, nodding.

“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”

“Am I?”

“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.

Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”

“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.

“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”

Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.

Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?

Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”

He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.

“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.

Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”

She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”

He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.

He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.

She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’

“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.

“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.

DAMN!! 

A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.

Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.

The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.

“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.

Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”

Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.

 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.

“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”

Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.

“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”

“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.

“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”

“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”

“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.

Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.

“What did you make?”

“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”

“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.

Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.

“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”

“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.

“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”

“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”

Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”

“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”

“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”

Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”

Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.

“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.

“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”

Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.

“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”

“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”

“Well?”

“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”

“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”

“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.

“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”

Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”

Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”

Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.

Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”

Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”

“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.

“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”

“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”

Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.

“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”

Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.

“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”

“It was, what, four in the morning?”

“Three. Close to four.”

“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.

“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”

“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.

“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”

Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.

Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.

Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”

“Get up!”

“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”

“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”

Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.

Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.

Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”

A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.

“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.

Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”

“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.

“At the evacuation, I was there.”

“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”

He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”

“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.

“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.

“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”

“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”

Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.

“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.

Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?

“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?

Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.

He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.

“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.

Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”

“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.

“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.

Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!

“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”

“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.

“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”

“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.

“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”

She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”

He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”

“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”

He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”

“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.

She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”

He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.

He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.

“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.

“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.

“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.

“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”

“Now?”

“Now, get up! Get up!”

“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.

“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”

And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.

taglist: @vsualitae​

A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!

[hamlets-ak]

ice cream hunt ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: on a hot summer afternoon reader and timmy go for an ice cream hunt in nyc

It was a warm smokey summer afternoon. New York was an oven. The day; Thursday, the most boring day of the week.

Windows and balcony doors opened wide, let the last sun rays swim inside your apartment alongside a small breeze that made the curtains fly and then linger on the floor. There was music from your neighbor's house concealed by the loud tireless honking of cars down the street.

You and Timothée were laying on the couch, only wearing the sunlight, half-asleep, half-awake, watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing TV shows. He held your feet on his lap as his head fell back melancholically, breaths escaping his pouty lips.

�� Tim are you sleeping ? », you asked. He mumbled something in response and then turned his head in your direction, face red, sweat holding onto the skin under his eyes.

« It’s so hot, » he told you. You smiled.

« You know what I want ? », you asked.

« No. » You lightly tilted your head, the smile gradually growing until it reached your ears. Timothée groaned pulling his hair back and holding it out of his face already knowing what you wanted to tell him. « Baby, it’s so hot... »

« Come on ! Let’s go out for a walk. »

« Someone literally got a heat stroke the other day- », Tim said. You rolled your eyes.

« You are just being lazy, » you murmured throwing your head back dramatically.

« I’m not being lazy. It’s just too hot outside. »

« We can go for a walk and get some ice cream. »

« Ice cream would be nice, » he mumbled.

« Then let’s go get it ! », you said sitting better, your back leaning on the couch. Timothée just looked at you as you took your feet off him and stood up. « Come on, get dressed, » you motioned your hand to him.

« I’m so tired, I can’t even get up, » he told you, eyes following all your moves. You threw a t-shirt on top of his face.

« How can you be tired ? We’ve been watching that crap all day. »

« Look, » he uncovered his face. « If you manage to pull me up from the couch, we’ll go get ice cream. » Your stare stayed at him for a few seconds and then you smiled.

« Your laziness is next level, » a chuckle escaped your lips. He beamed at you. « You want me to get you dressed too ? »

« Yes, please. »

« Timothée get up, » you said putting on your t-shirt.

« Ah, help me, » he tented his arms forward.

« Lazy ! »

« What do you mean ? That’s my charm, » he smiled.

You walked closer to him and he tied his arms around your hips pulling you closer until his cheek touched your belly. You pulled his wild hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead.

« You are a lazybones but I still love you, » you lowered your gaze at him. He looked up at you with a grin that made his eyes squint and his nose wrinkle. Timothée nodded letting you take his curls back. « Come on, » you took his hands on yours, and before letting a wet kiss on the back of his palm, you pulled him up.

« You really want ice cream, huh ? », he laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips.

« Ah, you are sweaty ! » You lightly pushed his chest. He grinned as he picked up his t-shirt and put it on.

« Got the keys ? », he asked once you got ready.

« Got ‘em. »

Wind rushed past you with razor teeth, hot like the breath of a dragon. You strolled down the street, two flames under the starless purple sky, dark and bright, streetlights following your steps. Timothée held your hand while crossing the road and he insisted on staying on the outside of the pavement, making your walk seem like an adventure.

You asked him if he remembered what was your favorite ice cream flavor and he just rolled his eyes as if you asked him his name. You laughed about nothing special while wandering around the city, watching the colors change above your heads until the sky turned into a blue shade like the deepest part of the ocean, and you finally reached the ice cream parlor.

« What will you get ? », you asked.

« What I am always getting, » Timothée said and then furrowed his eyebrows wearing his playful smile. « You remember or... »

« Or... », you shook your head questionably. « I’ll just get you whatever I want. »

« Sounds good, » he nodded, curls bouncing up and down. You smiled as your hand fumbled on his hair and pulled it behind his ears.

You left him chuckling to himself while you walked closer to the counter. His eyes followed your every move and stayed on you even when you looked away. You turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head watching the way he was staring at you with his sweet smile and red cheeks. Timothée shrugged imitating your move.

« Here you go, » you gave him his cone but quickly pulled it back to take a quick bite. He pressed his lips together looking at you for a few seconds before bringing your arm up and taking out his tongue to lick your cone. You burst into laughter at the way his nose was covered in ice cream too.

« Dummy, » you smiled cleaning his nose with your paper towel.

« Yours is better, » he said. « Wanna change? »

You slid your hand around his arm as you made your way back home slowly with steady steps and different cones, following the sidewalk.