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enbplvr · 2 days ago

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HIDE-AND-SEEK

Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader

Summary- Wanna play hide and seek with your obsessed boyfriend? Too bad. He never loses. And you always do. Maybe try hiding better this time.

Mentions- Yandere behavior, psychological fear, dark manipulation, toxic obsession, rough sex, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, talking through orgasm, eating cum, sadism.

Author's note: Hi! This is my second time writing a fanfic, so please show a lot of love.♡Please ignore any grammatical mistakes, as English is not my first language. If you don’t enjoy this type of fanfic, please kindly back off. Hate comments will be deleted!

Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction and is not intended to reflect reality. The characters depicted here are fictional versions and do not represent their real-life personalities or actions. Please don't take this too seriously—it's all for fun and delulu purposes.

For better experience play this playlist♡

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Here we go again — another little game of hide and seek. Y/N always runs, always hides… but Jungwon always finds her in the end. No matter how many times she tries to escape, he catches her. Every time. And now, it’s happening again. She’s hiding. He’s coming for her — just like always.

"Looks like we’ll have to start the game all over again." Jungwon's voice is calm — almost teasing — as he steps closer, closing the distance between y/n and him.

He’s close. Too close.

Jungwon moves slowly, as if savoring the moment. Y/n feels the warmth of his breath before y/n feels his touch — his fingers hovering near y/n's waist, not quite touching, but letting y/n feel the weight of his presence.

His lips brush just beside y/n's ear, and then he leans in whispering, “You really thought you’d get away this time again?" Jungwon chuckles lowly, the sound deep and unsettling.

“That was cute. Really. The way you ran barefoot through the hallway, trembling with every step while I was right behind you…- chasing u".

Jungwon clicks his tongue mockingly.

“But baby, come on. You know how this ends. It always ends the same — with me… and you… right back here.”

A pause. A breath. Then—

“Hide better this time, baby… ’cause last time?” He smirks, voice dripping with menace. “You lost way too quickly.” His hand finally lands on y/n's waist — firm, possessive.

“Let’s make it fun this time, yeah?” “Run. Scream. Beg.” Jungwon leans even closer, lips almost touching y/n's skin. “I’ll still find you.”

"Now go. Run." His voice drops to a whisper. "Before I change my mind and catch you right now." "And just remember — never let me catch you. Because if I do… You won’t like what happens next."

Y/n freezes. Her instincts scream. Run.

Y/n sprints. Heart pounding.

Y/n didn't look back.

Y/n never look back.

He’s counting now. Slowly. Calmly.

Y/n darts into the hallway, breath catching as she stumbles over herself, adrenaline pumping so loudly in her ears it almost drowns out everything else. Her bare feet slaps against the cold floor, her body trembling as panic grips every muscle. She doesn't look back — she can’t. Looking back means losing time, and with him, every second counts.

Y/n finds the dusty storage room — dark, forgotten, and suffocating. She slips inside, nearly tripping over an old rug. The air is thick with dust, her breath ragged and shallow as she ducks behind a corner of stack of boxes and moth-eaten curtains. Y/n's arms wrap tightly around her knees, trying to make herself small. Invisible.

THEN—

“Shall we start, my love?” Jungwon says sweetly.

“10…

9…

"Don’t pick the kitchen again, Y/n. That’s too easy. Just like last time. You always think the obvious places are safe. But I know you too well for that,” Jungwon says while laughing softly.

8…

7…

"I hope you’re trembling already.”

6…

He begins humming. It’s gentle. Childlike. Innocent. The lullaby is not meant to comfort y/n. It’s meant to terrify her. To remind her that no matter where she hides — he’s coming for her.

5…

4…

"Maybe try the attic. Or under my bed,” Jungwon muses, almost fondly. “I love when you crawl."

3…

"You know I can feel you, right? Even when I don’t see you, I know exactly where you are."

2…

1…”

His voice lowers to a dangerous whisper.

“Ready or not… here I come, angel.”

Y/n clamp a hand over her mouth. Her whole body trembles — shoulders tight, knees drawn to her chest, heart beating so hard it echoes in her ears.

A distant door creaks open. Then another.

Each sound slices through the silence like a warning. He’s getting closer. Moving slowly. Patiently. Like a predator savoring the fear of its prey.

Y/n didn't dare to move. Didn't dare to breathe too loud. Because she knows — he’s not just looking for her. He’s listening to her— her breathing, her heartbeat.

Jungwon’s voice calls out, cheerful and almost sing-song, “Where are you, love? Come on, don’t be shy now. Make a sound for me, why so quiet? You asked for this. Make it easy for me." He laughs — low, amused — the sound crawling under y/n's skin and sending chills down her spine.

Then his tone shifts, playful yet cold.

“Hide and seek is such a simple game. You hide. I find. But in our version… you never get away. Not really.”

His footsteps echo as he walks past the storage room. Y/n holds her breath, every muscle in her body tightening, praying he doesn’t double back.

He pauses. Hears a creak. Comes back.

Jungwon’s voice slips through the silence, soft and dangerously close, just outside the door y/n is hiding in.

“You breathing fast already? I love that,” he murmurs, the amusement curling in his tone like smoke. “It means your body knows I’m close… even if your mind keeps lying to you. Pretending you can escape.”

The door creaks open slowly.

He steps inside — deliberate, silent, confident. Like he already knows where y/n is.

Y/n bites her tongue hard, the taste of iron blooming across her mouth as she tries not to make a sound. Not a breath. Not a sob. Nothing.

“Hmmm…” he hums, pretending to search. “Maybe here? No? Or here…”

Y/n hears him opening a cabinet. Then the scrape of fabric as he slides under a table. Every movement is precise. Controlled.

He’s not really searching. He doesn’t have to. He’s hunting. And worst of all — he’s enjoying it. Because he already knows exactly what corner y/n is curled up in. He’s just letting the fear sink in a little deeper.

"You always hide so cute. All curled up, breathing hard. I bet you're already sweating, aren't you?" Jungwon’s voice is soft — teasing. He’s savoring this — Her panic, Her fear of getting caught.

The way Y/n's body trembles even when he hasn’t touched her yet. "You’re shaking, aren’t you?" he continues, voice dropping lower. "I haven’t even laid a hand on you… and you’re already trembling."

A cruel chuckle slips past his lips.

He loves this part. The part where you still think you can hide from him somehow.

His voice drops lower — smooth and dark

“Where are you, love?” There’s a mockery of tenderness in his voice, like he’s genuinely enjoying this. He chuckles softly.

“Always running… always trying to slip through my fingers.” Footsteps echo softly as he moves like he's just dragging out the moment to watch y/n squirm.

“But you forget, love…” he continues, his tone dropping to a near-whisper, “…I always catch you in the end.”

He’s not rushing. He doesn’t have to. Because this isn’t a chase to him. And knows he always has the upper hand.

“You were so quick today. I’m impressed.” Jungwon’s voice is laced with mock disappointment, teasing. “It’s almost like you don’t want to be found.” A quiet laugh follows, casual—cruel. “But you do, don’t you? You want me to find you. You need me to.”

Then—clang. Something drops. Metal on tile. The sound is sudden, jarring. Y/n nearly screams. Her heart stutters.

“Oops.” His voice is soft, dangerously calm now. “Did I scare you?”

He’s right outside the room. So close y/n can hear the weight of his breath. Then—nothing. Silence. Thick and suffocating.

He’s waiting. Listening. Like a predator crouched in the dark, grinning at the helpless sound of her breath.

“I can hear you, angel,” he murmurs through the wall. “You should’ve stayed quiet.”

A pause. A low, cruel chuckle.

“But then again… I like it when you make it easy for me.”

“I hope you’re hiding somewhere smart, love…” Jungwon said, his voice soft — almost fond, but laced with a dark promise that made y/n's blood run cold. “Because once I start looking, I won’t stop.”

A beat passed. Then his tone dipped lower, more possessive. “Not until I have you again.” Y/n pressed herself tighter into the shadows, heart pounding, lungs aching to stay quiet. But deep down, she knew — he’d already started. And Jungwon always founds her.

Jungwon hummed softly, the sound eerily gentle as it floated through the hallway. “You know… I love when you do this,” he said, almost like he was reminiscing. “Running… hiding… pretending like you don’t want me.”

The silence between each of his footsteps was worse than the sound itself — heavy, stretched, threatening. He was close. Too close. Then he stopped. Right outside the room y/n is hiding in.

Jungwon’s voice dropped to a thoughtful murmur. “Hmm… maybe you’re in this room?” A beat passed. “No… maybe,” he chuckled darkly, fingers brushing the doorknob, “or yes.”

Jungwon’s voice floated through the tense air like a lullaby laced with venom. “Knock knock… is my little dove hiding behind here?” he called out, his tone light and playful — a predator cloaked in sugar-sweet words.

Y/n didn’t answer. She didn’t dare.

“That’s fine,” he murmured, just loud enough to reach your ears.

And then — slam — the sound of a door being yanked open echoed like a gunshot down the hallway. But not your door. Not yet.

Silence followed, heavy and suffocating, before his voice returned — a soft chuckle slipping through his lips. “Ah… you tricked me,” he said, amused. There was no real frustration in his voice — only anticipation, and that edge of darkness that always bled through when he was enjoying the chase.

“That’s alright,” he whispered, footsteps resuming — slow, calculated, savoring the moment like a wolf circling its prey. “You want to make this more fun, huh? Then I’ll play along. I’ll let you think you’re winning. That you’ve outsmarted me.”

He stopped again, breathing quiet. The air around you stilled. “But just remember, Y/n…” he added, voice dipping lower, more dangerous. “The longer you hide, the worse it gets when I finally catch you.”

Jungwon’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife. “You know what’s funny, baby? All the people in the world… and you’re the only one I ever wanted. The only one who belongs to me.” His tone softens, almost loving — almost. “And yet… you still run. Why? What are you so scared of? Me?”

He stops. Something sharp clatters— sudden, deliberate. “You should be in this room only,” Jungwon mutters, low.

His footsteps echo across the dusty storage room floor, slow and steady, and when he speaks again, it’s soft — eerily tender.

“Are you here?” he whispers. “Come on, baby… this isn’t fun anymore if you stay quiet. Say something. Anything. Let me hear you breathe.”

Y/n presses her lips together, trembling. A single bead of sweat slips down her temple.

“You’ve gotten better at hiding,” Jungwon says, his voice echoing faintly as his footsteps approach, slow and deliberate. There’s a taunt in his tone, a cruel sort of praise. “But not smart enough.”

Y/n presses a trembling hand over her mouth, heart hammering so hard it. The walls seem thinner now, every creak amplified, every breath a risk.

“I gave you a head start,” he continues, his voice drawing nearer with each step.

“A full countdown. Ten to one. That’s love, isn’t it? I even hummed for you this time.”

He chuckles — low, mocking, cold.

“But you still chose the same pathetic corner of this house. Again.”

Y/n didn't dared to move. Not even a twitch. His voice drops to a soft murmur, almost tender, almost loving — and somehow that’s worse.

“Why do you do this, Y/N? Why pretend you don’t want this? Don’t want me?”

The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until he whispers again — this time so close, so precise it feels like he’s close to you, really close.

“Are you scared right now?” Then A pause. A breath. “Good. Fear makes your heart beat so beautifully.” His words are laced with twisted affection. “I can hear it.” “I wonder… how long it’ll take for you to accept that you belong to me?”

Jungwon’s voice floats through the thick silence. His footsteps draw closer with every word, slow and heavy, as if he has all the time in the world. As if he enjoys stretching out the fear from inside y/n's body.

“Did you really think these stack of boxes and moth-eaten curtains would keep me away?” he asks, his tone shifting into a mockery of warmth. “My love… I built this house for you.” His words echo, crawling along the floor and up the walls until they reach y/n. “There’s nowhere in here you can hide that I don’t know about.”

Y/n squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear into the shadows. But it’s useless. Y/n can feel him — the weight of his presence into the room.

A pause. Then —

The curtain rips away. There he is.

Towering above you. His expression is soft — disturbingly soft — like he’s gazing down at something fragile, precious.

He kneels, not like a man offering comfort, but like a hunter admiring his prey. A slow smile curves on his lips as he tilts his head.

“Found you,” Jungwon whispers, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind y/n's ear.

Y/N screams — raw, panicked.

She twists, pushing off the floor, legs scrambling beneath her as she tries to bolt. She doesn’t think. She just runs.

But she barely makes it two steps.

A hand wraps around her wrist — fast, unrelenting.

Jungwon yanks her back with ease, and her body slams against his chest.

“You really thought you could run now?” he growls against her ear, breath hot, voice laced with cruel amusement. She kicks, struggles, but he just laughs — low and dark.

"Shhh… it’s over now. You’ve played enough. You always fight when I get close…" Jungwon whispers, his voice a soft, chilling lullaby as his fingers curl tighter around y/n's arm, drawing her in like she was never meant to leave.

Y/n's body stiffens, panic clawing up her throat, but she can’t move — not with him holding her like this. His lips brush her ear, breath hot and deliberate. “I’ll make sure you never even think about hiding again.”— a promise more than a threat.

“No! Let me go! Please!” Y/n cries out, voice laced with raw desperation, thrashing in his grip. Her hands push at his chest, her nails dig into his wrist — but nothing loosens his hold.

Jungwon’s eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips. “Let you go?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

He leans in, his breath brushing against y/n's skin as he whispers. “I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

"Why are you doing this?" Y/n says with a trembling voice

"Because no one else gets to have you. Because I love you too much. Because I know what’s best for you. And if I have to break you to prove it… then I’ll break you. Gently. Lovingly. Over and over again. Until you stop running and hiding," Jungwon says, voice laced with obsession.

He pulls back slightly, just to look into y/n's eyes. His pupils are blown wide, dark and wild. His smile is sweet—too sweet. Deadly.

Y/n turns her face away, trying not to let him see her tears. But he notices. He always notices.

"Don’t cry, love. It makes me angry. Not at you… At the world. For making you think you needed to run from me," Jungwon says while gently cupping y/n's face.

"Jungwon—please… this isn’t you!" Y/n begs. "Oh Y/n… This is exactly me. This is who I’ve always been. You just… didn’t want to see it," Jungwon laughs darkly.

“This—” he breathes, eyes glinting with the satisfaction of someone who’s already won, “—this part of me is what keeps you mine."

"See, you’re not even trying, love. I told you to hide better,” Jungwon says mockingly. "Let me go! Just let me GO!" Y/n begs. "Let you go?" Voice turning eerily calm. He tilts his head. "That would mean losing the best part of me." A long pause. "And I don’t lose."

Jungwon leans in slowly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, voice dropping into a whisper. “ Now Tell me, love… why do you keep running from me?”

He doesn’t sound angry — he sounds curious, like he genuinely wants to understand.

“Do you not like the way I take care of you? I keep you away from everyone who doesn’t deserve to touch you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Someone to love you completely?”

Y/n’s voice breaks, panic laced in every syllable. “You don’t love me… You own me. You’re not protecting me — you’re suffocating me!”

Jungwon pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable.

Then, his tone shifts. Calm. Detached. “Wrong answer.”

“If your brain refuses to understand in word we’ll try a method.” A smile tugs at his lips. “A method your body won’t forget. Maybe then you’ll finally stop hiding.

Without warning, Jungwon grabs Y/n by the waist and lifts her effortlessly onto his shoulder. Her world flips — stomach pressed down against him, hair falling forward, legs dangling behind him, trembling violently. Every breath feels like it might crack her ribs from the inside.

"Put me down!" Y/n cries, voice already fraying at the edges. “Jungwon, what are you doing? please—just stop!. But he keeps walking — slow, steady, unbothered by her panic.

“What am I doing?” Jungwon chuckles darkly, shifting Y/n slightly on his shoulder so he can speak closer to her ear.

“I’m giving you a method,” he says slowly, — each word edged with unsettling calm.

“One — so you won’t run from me.”

“Two — so you won’t hide.”

“Three — so you won’t even think about escape.”

“Four — so the idea of leaving me never dares to enter your pretty little head.”

“Because I’m done with your games, love. All that running, all that screaming... and for what? Just to end up right here again". He says coldly.

Y/n struggles weakly, but it only makes his grip firmer, more possessive. Her legs shake harder now, the adrenaline crashing into exhaustion, her body giving up before her mind can.

As jungwon kicks the bedroom door open and walks in, throwing y/n gently onto the bed. He looms over her, his body language both dominant and seductive. He leans down, one hand on either side of her head, trapping y/n beneath him. "Missed me?"

Before y/n can respond, Jungwon captures her lips in a sudden, intense kiss. It's demanding, almost aggressive - a clear display of his dominance. His hands roam over her body possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

He breaks the kiss leaving Y/n breathless.

“You made it farther this time. I’m proud of you.” Jungwon says proudly

“But you still don’t get it, do you?” His tone drops, colder now. “This isn’t about winning or losing. This is about you belonging to me. No matter how many times we play… the ending is always the same.”

Then jungwon begins to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, his lips and tongue leaving a burning path. He nips at her collarbone, her chest.

His voice drops dangerously low as he feels her turning her face away —trying to resist him. "Looking away from me my love?"

“ You know? I'm wondering…” Jungwon murmurs. “Should I Strip away every piece of who you used to be? Turn you into someone better for me?"

Hearing this, Y/N finally looked at him, her eyes glassy with emotion. Her voice trembled, but she spoke anyway.

“I didn’t love you for all this, Jungwon…” she whispered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

Jungwon’s expression shifting into something darker.

“Then why…” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and broken. “Why did you make me fall in love with you… if you didn’t want to be mine?”

Jungwon’s smirk faded slowly as he studied her face.

“No answer, huh?” he said, voice quiet, almost mocking. “It’s okay, baby…”

He leaned down again, lips brushing her cheek as his hand slipped behind her neck.

“If you weren’t mine before…” his voice dropped, dark and possessive, “then I’ll just make you mine now.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move. Her breath trembled against his skin, her hands curling into the bedsheets.

“You can’t just—” she tried to say, voice shaky.

“Oh, but I can,” Jungwon whispered. “And you’ll let me. Just like you always do.”

Then jungwon pushes her legs apart further with his knees, his fingers slick from her arousal. He leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice dripping with dominance. "You're dripping wet for me." He slides two fingers inside her, pumping slowly. "If you didn't want to be mine...then why is your pussy so fucking eager for my touch?"

His eyes darken with satisfaction as he curls them against her walls. "See?" He pulls his fingers out and shows them to her, glistening with her arousal. "Your body knows who it belongs to."

He sucks his fingers to his mouth and wipes them clean, his tongue lingering on each digit to ensure he gets every last drop of her essence. "Fuck, always so sweet especially when you're scared and shaking in fear for me." His voice is low and dangerous, filled with amusement and satisfaction.

"I wanna taste your fear, wanna taste you, wanna taste how you tremble for me, all of it." He starts with soft, gentle kitty licks on her inner thighs, working his way up until he reaches her core. Without warning, he tears through her clothing, revealing her to him completely.

He dives in, his tongue parting her folds and delving deep into her core. He licks and sucks, tasting every inch of her as he promised. His hands grip her hips tightly, holding her in place as he feasts on her pussy, making her scream and shake beneath him.

His tongue circles her clit before plunging back into her entrance, fucking her with it like he would his cock. He can feel her trembling, hear her breathless moans and screams filling the room.

"No, no, no..." She whimpers softly as he continues his relentless assault on her sensitive pussy. Jungwon suddenly stops licking and bites down hard on her inner thigh, making her scream louder than before.

"If you don't like my Tongue, then how about my Cock? Will that work for you, huh? I should just Fuck you with my Cock instead".

"Mmmf," She lets out a muffled moan as Jungwon pulls his pants down roughly he positions himself at her entrance. Her pussy lips part easily around his thick head, already stretching to accommodate him without any lubricant needed. She's so wet from his tongue work already that he slides in smoothly.

She gasps loudly as he pushes deeper into her wet pussy without warning or mercy. Her nails dig into his shoulders, leaving moon marks on his skin She's so tight around him, squeezing every inch like she never wants him leave. Her head falls back, mouth open in silent scream of pain and pleasure.

"I'll fuck this pussy till you're not making those damn sweet moans for me," Jungwon growls, increasing the speed of his thrusts. The room fills with wet slapping sounds. "I'm not gonna stop until u won't stop hiding from me again. Get that into your fucking senses."

As Jungwon watches her, the realization slowly sinks in — she’s not being responsive to his words, to his aggressive love-making. Completely still. Not fighting. Not speaking. And somehow… that unsettles him more than anything else.

He pauses. His expression unreadable. Then, in a fluid motion, he reaches behind her and lifts a pair of black headphones.

Y/N’s eyes widen. “Jungwon… what are you doing?”

Before Y/N can react, he gently places them over her ears. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slips the headphones over her ears, gently.

A slow, distorted melody begins to play. It’s haunting — almost familiar. And beneath it… his voice. Looped. Whispered.

"You belong to me… You belong to me… You belong to me…”

Y/N jerks, trying to shake them off, panic building. The sound clings to her — wraps around her mind. But Jungwon is already holding her down — not with violence, but with a terrifying gentleness. His hand slides to hers, pinning her wrists with ease.

She claws at the headphones, trying to rip them off — “Stop it! Jungwon, stop—”

“No, no,” he says with a faint smirk. “Listen. This is how you learn, baby. Every time you hear those words—you belong to me—I want them to echo inside you. I want them to sink into so you always that remember you’re mine."

Tears fill her eyes as she screams his name — her voice desperate, trembling. She begs him to stop. But her cries only seem to satisfy him. His breath fans over her lips, He leans in, pressing his forehead to hers, and smiles.

“Now that’s more like it,” he whispers. “All your screams… all your tears… they’re all for me. That’s how I know you’re still mine.”

She sobs, but he only tilts his head in fascination, like almost proud. As if he's admiring her pain like observing a masterpiece.

“So breakable,” he whispers. “But I’ll fix you. Piece by piece. Strip away all the parts that don’t serve me. And what’s left?”

as His fingers trail along her cheek. he leans in closer, his breath brushing her ear, "YOU, exactly how I want you."

Y/N’s body trembles beneath him. Her breath is shallow, choked with sobs. The twisted melody still hums in her ears — "You belong to me… You belong to me…"

Her strength is gone. Her resistance, shattered. And all that’s left is the fear.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispers, voice barely audible. Her eyes fill with tears again, spilling down her cheeks. “Please… just stop… please, I-I can’t take it anymore.”

Her voice breaks.

“I’m begging you, Jungwon. Please… no more.” She looks up at him, eyes wide and full of defeat. “If this is what you wanted… fine. You win. Just… stop hurting me like this.”

“I won’t hide… and I won’t run,” Y/N says, her voice trembling, eyes locking with Jungwon’s despite the tears in them.

Jungwon's voice was low, laced with mock sympathy.

"Aww, my baby is apologizing now? How cute…" He brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, a smirk playing on his lips.

"But you’ll really be sorry once I fuck you and bring you back to your senses."

He tilts his head, that twisted smile. He leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching, his voice a whisper.

"Now, if you're truly sorry..." he leans closer, voice dropping, "...then spread your legs for me. Wider."

Y/N trembled beneath him — from fear, from his words, from the suffocating reality that no matter how far she ran… he always found her.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered, “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to keep you. Forever.”

“And just like I said…” he continued, “you’ll always end up right here. With me, because no matter how many times we play this game, Y/N… the ending never changes. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

A single tear slid down her cheek — and he smiled, brushing it away like it was precious.

“Now No more running. No more hiding. Just us. Always.” He says softly.

Also, a huge shoutout to my bestie for helping me out with the smut part — couldn’t have done it without you. Your dirty mind saved the day🤭

ACC TAGLIST

@sun4kiss @ceramini @ikeukiss @wemalyri @swiftjay23 @mayisreadingrightnow @beecakescafe @elikajinnie @rikihyph @luvdumpling @puddingkittypawzz @icepshrince @bamboobibi @slut4hee @sheepsgf @yourstrulyjjong @624sun @hkkeww @giannan04 @rsier @y-vening @wintersgf1 @jungwonxies @enha2fearless @doigottathough @wonely @cherryw0n @wonwon1e @jungwonyoii17 @secret-moonstruck

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existence-is-a-pain87 · 3 days ago

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Storming the Castle

Yandere!Block Tales x Monster?Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors, violence, MC gets no breaks from being reminded of how they ain't human

Notes: Lol part 1 did horrible. Oh well, I don't care. Who knows? Maybe this part will do well.

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Never have you been more grateful that you're constantly producing heat as the caves are much colder than the warmth of the meadows. It's not enough to make you shiver, but cool enough to notice.

The first floor of the cave is easy to maneuver through, and you climb up to find- oh! It's Terry (you think, he never told you his name)!

He's staring at some sort of card on a ledge, and you approach, standing over him as you chirp out a greeting. He's not the nicest, but... everyone needs a friend, right? Maybe he'd be nicer if you were his friend!

He flinches and spins around, screeching, "I'LL KILL YOU!!!" as he raises his flippers.

...okay, maybe the idea of trying to become his friend is a mistake.

"Oh... I thought you were another ANT ARMY. I HATE those things." Terry tell you, immediately calming down. "...you move too quietly, bruh. You're gonna give someone a heart attack like this."

"Ack- sorry, sorry!!" You squeak out, "It's just how I move-"

"Why are you even apologizing?? You act like everything is your fault." He just scoffs and looks back at the card, calling you "weird" under his breath.

"...uh... what'cha doin'?" You ask, trying to change the topic from sorta being called out..? You don't know, he's a confusing little penguin.

"Bruh." Terry says, giving you a deadpan look, "See that card over there? It's almost as if I can't reach the stupid thing."

"I can grab it for you." You offer.

"Really?" He asks you, skeptical.

"Yeah! Just lemme-" You quickly hop across the gap, neatly balancing on the edge of the platform (praise your strong ass legs) and grab the card, quickly hopping back over and handing it to Terry.

"Pretty impressive, not gonna lie." Terry mutters, before looking over the card, "Duuuude... I already had that oneeeee... multiple copies, actually. Whatever man, you can keep it?"

"Really?" You ask, startled, "Wow- thank you!"

"Yeah yeah." Terry says, waving you off.

"Bye Terry!" You tell him, quickly walking away to continue your quest for Shedletsky. On your way to the Ice Dagger you go!

Terry pauses for a moment. "How did they know my name?"

--☆☆☆--

You've never liked caves, not gonna lie. Just too dark for your liking. And you've never liked the cold.

Y'know what sounds nice right now? Snuggling up on a nice, smooth rock under the sun like a lizard. Just taking an hour long nap, forgetting all your pains and worries...

That'd be your heaven.

...just your luck. This next room of the cave is twice as cold and covered in ice.

You just groan there for half a minute before continuing, already annoyed knowing that the Ice Dagger is gonna be in some cold place and you're gonna get chilly despite the fact you emit enough heat to constantly attract cats to you (plus how just being around you can charge people's phones).

Thankfully, you can keep going. Even if it just keeps getting colder...

The claws on your feet dig into the ice, leaving little marks in the ground as you go, as you've long since decided to just not wear the damn shoes (too slippery). The chill gnaws at your scales and skin, trying to eat through your heat and freeze you to your very bone.

You persist. You always persist.

"Who is that?" A collection of shrill voices ask as you reach the top of this room of the cave, "Your Majesty... we have a guest..."

"Quiet..." A singular voice says, "Quiet.... QUIET!!!!"

You freeze up at the yelling, the more animalistic parts of your mind screaming at you to defend yourself, to get into an adequate position, to run, to hide. You resist them, trying to listen to the rational parts of you that tell you that you'll be fine.

"I MUST MAKE MY ROYAL ENTRANCE!!!" The voice declares, and the collection of voices quietly apologize.

You approach the entrance to the next room as a giant, humanoid blue ant crawls from the ground, piercing through the ice with ease as dozens of smaller ants surround her.

"HUZZAH!!!" The Supreme Ant declares, "IT IS I!!! YOUR ROYAL MAJESTY!!! I SEE YOU HAVE TAKEN A WRONG TURN AND VENTURED INTO MY TERRITORY!!!"

"I did? Oh- I'm so sorry. I didn't realize." You said, apologetic.

"FEAR NOT, DEAR SUBJECT, I SHALL EXCUSE THIS INEXCUSABLE BEHAVIOR AS YOU BOW TO MY GLORIOUS STATURE!! GO ON, I'M WAITING!!"

You don't want a fight, so you bow. All hands clasped together, you bow deep enough the ears on your hood brush against the icy ground.

The Supreme Ant is pleased. "AH YES, ALL IS NOW WELL, DEAR SUBJECT. WHERE MAY YOU BE HEADING?"

"Blackrock Castle, your Majesty." You explain, "I am sent there on a quest. I- I didn't mean to walk through your territory. It's just this is the only open route I know of..."

The Supreme Ant hums at your words. "YOUR EXCUSE SEEMS TO COME OF GOOD HEART. VERY WELL, YOU MAY CONTINUE ALONG."

"Thank you again!" You say, bowing once more before scurrying out of there.

The Supreme Ant hums, pleased. "SUCH A POLITE PERSON. IF ONLY THERE WERE MORE SUCH AS THEM IN THIS WORLD."

--☆☆☆--

You walk out into this picturesque snow-covered town in a valley in the mountains. Someone notices you and walks over.

"Oh, hey there! You look... new!" They note, "Welcome to Roadtown! The sunniest part of the crossroads... or well, at least it was. Things have been getting rather chilly recently... there's been baseless rumors all over the place..."

"Like what?" You ask, tilting your head.

"The snowclouds came from BLACKROCK CASTLE on the hill." They tell you, "I've even heard a rumor that the ICE DAGGER was even stolen! Isn't that wild? Who would do something like that???"

...oh no, you need to hurry.

"I mean... it kinda was..?" You say, knowing the Ice Dagger is at risk, "Someone is trying to steal it. Dunno if it has been stolen yet. I'm trying to make sure it'll be safe and sound."

"Wait... for real???" They ask you, "That's wild, man! I'm glad to hear you're on the case, though!"

"Yeah, heh..." You say, "Just need to get to the Castle."

"MAYOR MONTY can help you get to BLACKROCK!" They tell you, "Town Hall's the light-colored cabin. Go hit him up sometime! Good luck, I'm rooting for you!"

You nod and head out as they say one last thing. "By the way, your talon-feet-things are COOL!!"

You flinch, hesitate, and mumble a thank you, earnestly surprised. Usually, people are creeped out. Being complimented for something like this is... nice. It's really nice.

You just keep going, heading to the yellow cabin and sheepishly walking past the guards by the door. They don't bother to stop you. Just smile at you as you head in.

"Eh? Who's that? I don't know you... why are you in my office?" An older, bearded man asks you as you walk in, and you only assume that's Mayor Monty. "C'mere so I can see your face a bit better."

You head over.

"Take off those silly glasses and that mask. I can't see your face otherwise."

You hesitate for a minute, but comply in the end. His eyes widen at your face, but he merely says, "Ah, I see," and moves on.

"Mhm, yup... I can guess what you're here for," He says, "You want one of rhose ADVENTURER I.D.s, don'tcha? No one visits unless they want something nowadays..."

"Yes please," You say, hiding your face again, a little embarrassed, "I really need to get to Blackrock."

"Ah, heading there?" He asks as he starts rummaging around the desk, "You know, I was an adventurer too!"

"Oh, really?" You ask, intrigued. Hell yeah, old man stories!

"Of course, then I had'ta to breakin' my leg that one time..." Monty continues, "Even broke mah funny bone on th' way down!"

"Wow." You murmur as he hands you the I.D.

"The BLACKROCK MOUNTAINS are quite dangerous, critter," He says, "And I saw plenty danger in my time, that's for sure! My wife loathed all the late trips I'd come home from... she used to travel too! Even got eaten by a dragon... twice! Or was it thrice? This old fart can't keep track since Jim..."

He pauses. "...actually, I'll make you a deal, critter. Our-" He yawns- "lovely accountant JIM has gone-" longer yawn this time- "missing and-" yet another long yawn... "and..."

...Mayor Monty then falls asleep in front of you. You reach over and lightly shake him awake, and he startles.

"WHuzzu?!" He coughs, "Oh... this old nut dozed off again, huh?"

"Don't worry about it." You reply, a little confused.

"That's just what happens nowadays!" He laughs and continues, "Anyhoo, where was I, young critter?"

"Jim went missing..?" You say, confused.

"Ah, yes!" He nods, "Right. Jim... he's overseeing a mining operation neaby... but he hasn't come home in a few days... I'm starting to get worried about the young lad... he's not the type to put himself in trouble's way..."

"Do you want me to find him? I'm willing." You say.

"That's just what I was gonna ask ya." He says, "Thanks, young one. You take care now, okay? Please find JIM soon for me..."

"I will." You promise, "He'll be home soon!"

And with a wave, you're off again, passing through the toll booth and into the mountains.

This shouldn't be too hard.

--☆☆☆--

You wish your modified clothes were warmer. At least the other penguins you met here were nice. And a guy you met who was accepted into the penguin community. Honestly, how lovely for him. Glad he's happy.

Wish you had a community that accepted you like that, but oh well.

You even beat up a Banished Knight and told him to find his own place and happiness in life instead of trying to regain the favor of the king because he'd be happier forging his own path.

You don't know if he took your words to heart, though.

At the very least, you found Jim buried under some rubble and saved him by using dynamite that he allowed you to keep and take with you. Even had to cross some ice that you've never been so glad to have claws for as you just easily walked across.

You even saw Terry when you were saving Jim. Thankfully, that accountant is okay and gleefully thanked you before going home.

Using the dynamite, you managed to sneak into the basement of the castle. And god, there were a ton of guards you had to fight off. Though you took great caution not to hurt anyone too severely.

You managed to get around and into the palace after a little while, though. Though everyone's loyalty to the king stunned you.

Then again, you've never had many you could call a friend. Sure, you had some... but still.

Hell, even a living statue was loyal to this man. You had to meet him and see what all the fuss was about.

And when you got into the palace itself (by breaking and entering through a window)? You were a little bemused by how the knights in there didn't fight you. Just set up a barricade you just zoomed around and deeper into the palace using your speed ability.

You were just glad you didn't have to fight anyone. You weren't a violent soul, not by any means. Though... everyone sure did like to look at you like you were... it was annoying.

But somehow, you snuck into the kitchen, just... very lost.

"Are you the assistant mage I ordered? I've been waiting..." The... Kitchen Wizard..? Says as you walk in, barely glancing up at you. "Goodness, I knew RentAnAssitant(tm) was slow, but jeez..."

"W- wait- sir- you got the wrong-" You start, panicking.

"No more fooling around! We've got knights to feed!!" You flinch at how loud he got there, and he continues while barely looking up at you, "While I prepare the stove with my MAGIC, I need..." He checks a recipe, "...One bottle of rose-colored liquid. Yes, one will do just fine for now."

You try to leave the room but he orders you to stay in. "S- sir-! I'm not your assistant! I'm here because-"

"Hush, just get the rose-colored liquid!" He tells you, visibly annoyed.

You don't like how your heart seems to contract in your chest as he yells, reminding you too much of him.

No... he can't hurt you here. Just get the liquid and leave.

You approach the red bottles, grimacing when they all look the same.

"...sir?" You call over, immediately being told to quiet down and get the bottle. You fidget with your claws, internally panicking as you grab one of the bottles and hand it over while praying, immediately backing away and trying to hide yourself despite there being nothing to hide behind.

"Aha! Here we go..." He says, not looking over, "You're an incompetent little thing, don't you know? Oh well. Let me just drip a few drops into this here container and..."

He flinches as it turns yellow. "Huh... that's... odd."

You back away into a corner, shaking slightly in terror. Please don't yell at you, you don't ever take that well...

"Wait a minute-"

Then, the concoction explodes.

You wince as the kitchen is a mess, with a giant pile of everything stacking up in the center. You cower in the corner, not noticing your hood, glasses, and mask had blown off.

"YOU IDIOT! THAT'S THE WRONG BOTTLE!!!" The Kitchen Wizard roars at you, absolutely pissed off, "THATS A SCARLET BOTTLE! I needed the rose... THE ROSE!"

Anything else he says turns to static, and he freezes when he finally looks over at you. You see his mouth moving, visible confusion on his face, but before either of you know it, you're at the top of the pile cowering, almost curled into a ball.

You wheeze a bit, hiss-like sounds escaping from your mouth as you desperately try to force the memories of him out of your head and as far away as possible.

You don't even notice the scream about the penguin.

...

"Yo whatup." You nearly fall off the pile at Terry's voice. You look over at him, your pupils mere slits as your spikes are sticking bolt upright.

"I didn't like how that punk down there talked to you. Had to teach him a lesson. Got this cool hat out of it... I don't think he'll mind."

"Wh- what did you do?" You ask the penguin, panicking as your words are almost slurred and growl-like.

"Doesn't matter."

...

Terry then explained to you how the Shrinking ability you found up here worked. You just used it to sneak into the treasury, after getting someone to get the limp body of Kitchen Wizard to somewhere that had medical attention of course, and getting a key to the main room where you'll soon be able to go against the King.

...

You had a bad feeling that getting the Ice Dagger wouldn't just be a simple conversation.

--☆☆☆--

...you didn't like how they stared at you. Simply stepping out of your way as you crept up the stairs, before taking a deep breath to steady yourself and striding into the throne room.

Light streamed through the windows, reducing your cat-like pupils to mere slits if not for your glasses. You paused in the entryway, quickly readjusting your outfit in a desperate bid to hide any more monstrous parts.

Perhaps if you looked more human, there wouldn't be any fighting. Perhaps if you were a human, you wouldn't even be here. You'd be safely at home.

But no, you don't get that blessing.

You just approach the king, not liking how the room gets colder and colder the closer you grow to him. How ice covers the floor near his throne like a sheet. How your claws dig into it, desperate to keep you upright.

The King sits on a throne coated in ice, spikes of it surrounding him as he stares down at you. He only has one eye, his right eye being entirely covered by what you can only describe as a crystal of ice. His visible eye glows a neon blue, and even without pupils, you can sense it burn into you. His skin is blue and near dead, as if the cold consumed him, and yet he refuses to die.

On his head is a crown, and he wears a thick and furred cloak. Even sitting there silently, staring at you with more malice than friendliness, he looks as if he was a force of nature given human form. Simply radiating a regalness and power you've never bore witness to before.

"...hi." Is all you can manage to choke out, already feeling on edge from both the cold and his stare.

...

You think you hear whispers coming from him.

"So..." He says, his voice unsurprisingly deep, "This is who I've heard so much about..."

You try not to shuffle nervously, trying to think of what to possibly say in response.

He doesn't let you respond.

"You. Breaking in... dismantling my guards..." He scowls at you, "Is this what you wanted?"

"No-!" You blurt out, "No- no- I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"And yet you do." He notes, the grip on his scepter tightening. "You think you're the hero of this story... but deep down, you're as filthy as anyone else."

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Silence." He says, and the words die on your tongue. The words you desperately wish to say, to explain, to diffuse. He doesn't let you as he speaks. "I've heard of the future. I know what's to come."

"I've been..." You stay still as he hesitates momentarily, "'tainted'... by a tormenting voice. By the knowledge that Blackrock Kingdom will cease to exist in your future."

...but it... doesn't...?

"How do you think I feel? Witholding that knowledge from my people?" He asks you, standing up as his scepter hits the ice with a dull thud. "That their happiness... their home... will all be gone in only a few years. Do I give into the prophesied future I've been told will unfold?"

"No..." You say, standing your ground, "Because it doesn't happen!"

"You..." He says, and you hear the whispers now, your sensitive ears picking up parts...

Liar.

They lie.

They fill your head will false hopes.

Strike them down...

STRIKE THEM!

"LIAR!" He roars out, and you flinch as he charges.

No...

Summoning your claymore is easy, but the force he puts behind each blow makes your very body shake. Your talons deepen their hold on the floor, piercing through the ice and leaving small scratches on the floor itself.

Not like this...

Every animalistic part of you screams for you to fight back. Stab him, kill him, don't let him harm you.

...

You refuse.

Why aren't they fighting back?

Why do they only defend?

He intensifies his attacks, even pulling out a sword made of ice (the Ice Dagger, you figure, and understand that is where the whispers come from) and trying to stab you.

You manage to deflect. Barely.

But he's not letting up. He manages to bypass your defenses and strike you with his scepter, and god it hurts.

He struck you hard enough you're sent into a wall, your claymore clattering next to you as you feel lightheaded. You cough as he grabs you by the ears of your hood and lifts you up, preparing to strike again.

He pauses as all four of your arms come out to block his scepter mid-swing.

You squirm out of his hold, your hood coming off in the process.

Your head rings as you pull off your glasses and mask to toss them aside, your other pair of arms quicky undoing your fake tail, before you grab your claymore and resume a defensive stance.

"..." He stares at you, his gaze colder than before. "Fight back."

You glare at him, blocking his next attack.

"Fight back!" He orders you, growing more and more enraged. "FI-"

"NO!" Your roar cuts through the room like a blast of heat, and the King stops in his tracks, "You act like this is something I want! I don't want to fight you! I- I just want the damn sword! I just want to go home!"

He stares at you, his face blank as you feel your tail lash. "I'm tired, your majesty. I'm really fucking tired. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want my quest to be over with so I can go home."

You don't like how the grip on your blade falters. "I'm no hero. Look at me, I'm a monster. But I'm just a monster who wants to go back to something I'm familar with. I know none of my wishes will come true. I know I'll never be accepted by everyone or looked at as a sentient being by strangers. I know if I don't hide myself I'll be essentially alone. But if I don't have to fight you for this sword, I'm happy."

You lower your blade, hating how hazy it all seems. Especially your vision. "I'm not going to fight you."

The King stands still, before striding closer to your weakened form.

They're weak.

Kill them.

Kill them now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for your death.

It wouldn't be the first time you've nearly been executed, anyways. You just hope it won't hurt.

You hear his scepter thud against the floor with each step. His footsteps nearly making the ground shake. He's a very, very tall man.

"...what happens to my kindgom?"

Your eyes slowly open at his words, and you hesitantly look up.

"Huh?"

"You say the future I've been told is a lie." He says, and you see the Ice Dagger in his hands. "What happens to it?"

Your mouth is clammy, but you manage to speak. "I- I've never been, but I heard the weather returns to normal around a year after it became winter year round. The kingdom is thriving, though the King is rarely seen. I- I heard it's really nice, though I've never managed to go..."

You trail off, as the King stares down intently at you.

"...your words radiate honestly, little... creature." He says, "...you come from the future, do you not?"

"I do." You admit with a nod.

"...who sent you upon this quest?"

You hear the whispers are angry, ordering him to kill you and questioning why he doesn't. But you do hear a quiet voice talking about how you seem trustworthy and honest.

Is he listening to that..?

"Shedletsky did." You say, "S- someone is after the Swords. He sent me to gather them and save Builderman."

"Elaborate."

"Builderman's been kidnapped," You explain, "And Shedletsky was attacked. Last I saw, he was on his way to the hospital. I need the Ice Dagger for Shedletsky, nothing more..."

The King stares at you, his expression cold and... almost cruel. But also contemplative, as if he's considering what you say.

"..." He grabs you by one of your horns and drags you up to standing, glaring at you. "You will stay at my castle for one night. I will consider what you said. Tomorrow morning, I will decide your fate."

"My fate..?" You echo, confused.

"If I gift you the Ice Dagger," He explains, "Or if I kill you."

--☆☆☆--

Being suddenly treated like a guest astounded many of the people within the castle. However, they didn't fight back against the King's orders.

You were more astounded with how he refused to allow you to disguise yourself again. Like, he literally pulled the mask and glasses out of your hands when you tried to put them on and told you to stop hiding yourself.

You agreed, not wanting an argument, although you tried not to bring any attention to yourself. However, having the King standing around you didn't help...

It was... awkward between you and the King, to put it lightly. He didn't really talk directly to you beyond the occasional question about the future, though you often felt his gaze borrowing into you or heard the whispers of the Ice Dagger.

Though you didn't like how his gaze seemed to intensify when you learned that Terry killed the Kitchen Wizard... though, he did quietly murmur to you he was thankful you tried to save the Kitchen Wizard. Though, it lasted only a moment.

...

The King strode through the hallways, the very air around him chilling. His scepter gently thudded against the ground with each step he took.

Weak. You're weak for letting them stay.

The moonlight shone through the windows of the castle, illuminating the hallways. They were empty outside of him, not one guard standing at the ready. Not one witness for what he would do.

They're defenseless. Get rid of them. They're a problem that needs to be dealt with.

The louder voices urged him to kill you while you slept. And he was more than ready to do it.

But there were quieter ones.

They're kind. They don't want to fight. They tried to save the Kitchen Wizard when that penguin attacked him. They tried to spare your guards. They're a kind being who wishes to be accepted.

Treat them with the same love they treat everyone else.

The King felt as if he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. You spoke believable words of the future, genuine promises that his people would be okay. Yet they clashed with the voices that promised him salvation.

...

He paused in front of the room you were staying in, before he slowly opened the door. It wasn't locked.

Stepping in, he was stunned to see the bed untouched. Though he noticed you seemed to make yourself comfortable on the large chair in the room. His gaze turned to where you sat, staring out of the window. But your ears were perked up and swiveled in his direction, and you looked over.

He hesitated, not wanting to kill you while you were awake.

"Oh- uh..." You hesitate, "Hi."

He merely grunts and nods, and you shuffle slightly, your tail twitching.

"Are you here to... talk?" You ask him, taking a breath, "I- I didn't want the Kitchen Wizard to..."

"I know." He responds, understanding your desire for peace and horror at the Kitchen Wizard's death. "I understand. It's not your fault."

You look away, radiating discomfort as he closes the door behind him and approaches.

"Why are you still awake?" He asks.

"I could ask you the same thing," You reply, and hesitate before saying some more things, "But- uh- I'm a really light sleeper. My ears and eyes and stuff are really sensitive- mostly my ears- and I wake up from sounds easily. Usually I got these soundproof headphones on and earplugs in but... uh... don't have any of those here..."

You shrug. "I don't expect to sleep much here."

"...I see." He responds, as the voices tell him to do all sorts of things. He stands beside you, as you look out the window.

"...Blackrock is beautiful," You mention, attracting his gaze, "I wish I could've seen it back in my time..."

He stares at you, considering your words. "Why were you unable to travel to my kingdom?"

"..." You hesitate, "I've never had much money... it was really, really hard to get a job since I'm..." You hold up your hands, all four of them, "This. Most people are spooked by me."

You cross you arms and lean against the windowsill. "Everyone looks at me in one of three ways. In pity, in fear, or in anger."

You think for a moment. "...occasionally, kids look at me in awe. Not that often, though. So I guess four looks. But... no one ever looks at me like I'm normal. Like I'm a human. Like I'm a living, sentient being that deserves to exist. Never at first."

You grimace. "...it's why I don't want to fight. Because I'm no longer allowed to act in anger, to lash out. I'm not allowed to fight back against my assailants. I'm not allowed to yell or argue or scream."

"..." The King listens to your words, "Are you not angry?"

"...all the time." You admit, "I'm angry I have to struggle to do things anyone else can with ease. I'm angry I can't be looked at as normal and have to hide myself. I'm angry I'm not home. I'm really angry."

"Yet you do not express that." He notes, "Not in your expression nor your body."

"...only humans are allowed to be angry," You admit, "Once you're no longer one, acting in anger means you need to be put down like a rabid dog."

You rub your shoulder, avoiding looking at the King.

"..." He takes a breath, "I see..."

A silence falls between you two, but he never looks away from you.

"Why do you not sleep on the bed?" He asks you.

"Oh- I'm more used to couches." You admit, "Also, it just feels... weird sleeping in a bed. I've spent years on a couch. I don't know if I'm really allowed..."

You frown, "What if my horns scratch the headboard? Or I break something on the bed? It's harder to cuddle up against a corner and get comfortable too..."

"I see." The King muses, feeling a smile creep onto his face. He isn't sure why. "You worry a lot."

"Yeah... I do..." You admit.

"How do you feel about the quest you've been sent on?" He asks you.

"...is it wrong that I kinda... like it?" You ask, "I mean- I feel human being sent out to do something important, like I can matter and help people. And I like doing that."

"...you are truly good at heart." The King notes, "Loving despite all your struggles and hardships. Truly an admirable thing."

"R- really?" You ask, your face flushing, "Oh... thank you."

You glance away, embarrassed, as your tail wraps around your ankles.

...they're cute.

Actually... yeah, you're right.

I know! He should kiss them!

The King flinches at the voices suddenly changing their tune. No longer do many of them call for your death. Instead, they seem to crave to see more of you being "cute".

Genius!

Kiss the cute little monster!

Kiss! Kiss!

Go on, you know you want to, King!

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

The King clears his throat, looking away from you. You glance up at him, and he has a hand over his face to hide his blush.

A silence hovers between you two, but this silence is comfortable.

"...I will see you in the morning," He tells you, "...sleep as well as you can, little bird."

"I will!" You say quickly, and the King leaves.

"...wait, I'm not a bird-"

--☆☆☆--

That morning, two guards escort you to the throne room. The King sits upon the throne, but he stands when you approach him.

He strides down the steps, stopping before you.

"...I've considered your words." He told you, "You are quite unlike any soul I've met in my time. You have come for a noble cause, seeking the Ice Dagger for Shedletsky."

He pauses for a moment, before continuing. "If you ever need anything upon your quest, you are welcome in Blackrock Castle or anywhere in my kingdom. I see greatness in your future, little bird, even if you will fade more trial and hardship. Take this as a token of my gratitude."

He gently hands you a card that reads "Call: Cruel King".

"If you are ever in need of my assistance, I promise to arrive the moment you use this card." He tells you, hesitating. "You don't have to go through this alone. That is something you have shown me."

He takes a breath, before offering you the Ice Dagger.

"Take this and return to Shedletsky." With shaking hands, you take the Ice Dagger, holding it in your hands.

Hi. :3

"Go forth, kind soul, as I will watch over you."

#endri yaps #yandere block tales x reader #yandere block tales #block tales x reader #block tales #block tales cruel king

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snowysosturn · 2 days ago

Text

The Underdog - Chris Sturniolo

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Y/n

Summary: Chris is a rising star in the MLS - talented, charming, and known for being a player, both on and off the pitch. He’s never had a girlfriend, but always had a soft spot for Y/n, the girl who knew him before the fame but never took him seriously. Once their paths cross again, will history repeat itself or start to feel like potential?

It’s Thursday evening, and my apartment smells like takeout with a hint of unserious stress. A pile of open textbooks and empty pizza boxes are scattered across my bedroom floor, all of us pretending to study while slowly drifting into talk of playoffs. That’s what happens when you live in Houston and the Dynamo’s make the final, nothing else really matters for a few days. Not even our looming exams.

We’re all future biology teachers in theory, but tonight? We're just soccer fans, buzzing like the rest of the city.

“Anyone got a spare jersey?” Liv asks, digging through a drawer like one might magically appear.

“Yeah I’ve got one” Tasha says. “You can wear my orange home kit, it says Herrera on the back of it.”

“I’m just excited for the night out after if I’m honest” Liv grins, turning as she closes the drawer. “The city’s gonna be wild whether we win or lose.”

“Oh we’re gonna win!” I say without thinking, leaning back against my beds headboard. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

“Oh okay Ms.Manifestation, lets hope you’re right.” Tasha smirks. “So, who do you think’s going to start?”

Liv gives me a look. A slow, smug kind of smirk that makes me want to throw a pillow at her before she even opens her mouth. I know where she’s going with this.

“I think Chris Sturniolo will be in the starting 11.” she says, way too casually.

I roll my eyes immediately. “Please stop.”

“What?” she grins, “It’s a valid take.”

“I swear, if you lot start this again-”

Maya, who’s only just moved in from Utah this semester is still catching up with everything, so she raises a brow. “Wait, what’s the deal with Chris Sturniolo?”

The girls all look at me, waiting for me to explain.

I sigh. “We knew each other a few years ago. We were in the same school year, he used to try it with me constantly. Like.. wouldn’t let it go. But I never gave in. Ever.”

Tasha sniggers. “Yeah keyword is tried. Girl was made of stone.”

I laugh, because it’s true. Chris was.. persistent, to say the least. Always smiling like he knew one day he’d get what he wanted.

But he’s a pro footballer now. One of Houston’s most talked about rising stars, considered a wonderkid. But to me? He’s still that same guy who never took no for an answer, and always thought he could change my mind.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if he’s actually starting Sunday.

“I actually don’t hear much about him anymore, like.. on a personal level” I say, almost more to myself than anyone else. “Soccer fans absolutely idolise him now, but it’s weird not seeing him pop up anywhere else.”

Maya tilts her head, as she looks up from her phone. “Does he have a girlfriend?.. I mean.. he is a goodlooking boy.”

The rest of us shake our heads in sync like it’s a reflex.

“Nope.”

“Never.”

“Not a real one anyway” Liv adds, stretching her legs over the edge of the bed. “Chris was one for hookups and hookups only.”

I shrug, grabbing my cup off the floor. “That’s why I never went for him. Even back then, he just seemed like one big player. Flashy smile, smooth talk, always surrounded by people, and never the same girl twice.”

“Sounds like half the team then” Maya mutters, making us laugh.

“But seriously..” I continue, “he was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were the only one in the room.. and then did the exact same thing with someone else five minutes later.”

Maya whistles. “Yikes.”

“Exactly, I’m not falling for that one.”

Still, part of me wonders if he’s changed. Fame does that to people, sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better. Or maybe he just got better at hiding it.

I shake the thought off. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t spoken to him in years, and after Sunday’s final, he’ll be off doing whatever pro soccer players do in the off season. Probably in Miami, probably surrounded by beautiful women.

But all in the same breath, curiosity gets the better of me.

While the others argue over who’s going to score first on Sunday, I quietly grab my phone and search Chris on Instagram.

It doesn’t take long, his account pops right up, verified tick and everything.

His page is exactly what I expect. Clean, posed, very.. athlete. Rows of football photos, in uniform, mid training, post match grins with a mix of gym selfies.

As much of a player as he was, I have to admit it, it’s nice seeing someone from here actually make it.

Houston raised. Houston playing.

It’s not often a local boy gets the opportunity to be the hometown hero.

I scroll a bit more. He’s gained a ton of followers, influencers, fitness pages, fans from all over the league. Probably girls from everywhere too, which is why I tell myself if I hit follow, it’ll go completely unnoticed.

So I do.

Just a little harmless follow.

Nothing more.

I zone back into the conversation, locking my phone and tossing it to the side like I hadn’t just deep dived into Chris Sturniolo’s highlight reel.

The girls are still chatting, this time full swing into pregame plans.

“I’m thinking we start at Liv’s place” Tasha says, already listing off who’s bringing what. “She’s closest to the stadium anyway.”

“I’ll have shots ready before we leave” Liv nods with full commitment.

“And where are we going after?” I ask, taking a swig of my water and trying to act like I hadn’t mentally wandered off for five minutes.

Maya lights up. “Oh actually! My cousin said if they win, the team’s hitting Fire.”

“Fire Fire?” I repeat, eyebrows raised.

She grins. “Yup. Fire Nightclub. The whole team’s planning to go with the cup and everything. Shots, DJ, bottle girls, the works.”

“Oh we’re definitely going then” Liv says, already pulling out her phone to make sure her outfit's still sitting in her cart.

“Imagine getting a pic with the cup” Maya laughs.

“Or with Chris Sturniolo” Liv teases, looking directly at me.

I roll my eyes hard enough to see my own brain. “Don’t start.”

But part of me knows.. if Houston wins and Chris ends up at Fire that night.. the chances of running into him just got very real.

Just as Livs finishing her smug little smirk, I hear it.

Ding.

I glance down at my phone, lighting up beside me on my bed.

I look down.

Chris Sturniolo followed you.

Then, ding again.

Two notifications in such a short time.

A message.

Chris Sturniolo: “What’s up Y/n”

There's no way he’s just text me.

a/n : before we start i dont know how the MLS truly works and calling it soccer is making me SICK

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit @mattswrinkleton @asmine @sagesturns

#snowy speaks #sturniolo triplets #the underdog #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #soccer player! chris #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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pushspacetocontinue · 1 day ago

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"Heh, that sounds like something Lewis would have said as well," Travis said, "He would have liked all of you too, you know. I know he would have."

He was very certain about that. Travis had the thought that maybe he could bring something nice to wherever they might be, but perhaps that would be going a little far.

But then he chuckled a little bit at Willow fixing her hair. Not a bad idea to look the part while getting out.

"Good point," Antonio said, "And I will admit that I'm going to enjoy looking back on that moment over and over. It was a very fitting pushback."

It had been very satisfying to watch.

"I can't make any promises there, but it will be my fault if I indeed do," Antonio said, "Sometimes reading a text is inevitable, and I will hopefully be prepared for anything cursed you might send."

He smirked a little bit then. It seemed he had opened himself up for Rook sending something cursed, but he wasn't going to mind it at all.

"Well, heh, I, I suppose I, I could help out a, a bit there too," Russell said, "After all, I'm no, I'm no stranger to, to being up at, at all kinds of, of hours, or, or coffee. So I, I can help out there a, a bit."

Bill's gaze had softened as he had briefly allowed his mind to wander about this potential road trip. But then he smiled as he watched Rook join her sisters for this dance of theirs.

Travis closed the car doors and locked up once everyone was out, tucking the keys into his pocket again. Antonio was also smiling at the display, and Russell had to admit that this was indeed just wonderful.

It really was just like an actual family gathering. A family that most might find rather odd, but it was theirs. Simon flipped some buttons on the controls so that the drone was a little less conspicuous here.

Russell felt the static in his chest, fingers and back flare back into a sharper spark for a moment, before it settled down again. He couldn't help but give a small wave to the staff as well. While he briefly noted the hovering, he found himself turning his back up again. Even though the staff were ghosts, these were people in the end, here to do their job.

"I, I should, I should visit more, more often, if, if they'll, they'll let me," Russell said, with a small smile, "I, I can't say any-anything ab-about the name, but, but it seems like a, a real neat place."

"Now isn't this something?" Travis said, with a grin, "And of course, discounts aside, it's all on Custard."

"Yeah it, it is," Russell said.

"The mama duck doesn't have to tell me twice," Bill said. It seemed that he was feeling a bit more confident now that they were out of the pocket as well.

Leofric also followed. From the looks of it, he'd be able to partake in a frozen treat that was safe for him as well. It was always nice to be included.

Russell smiled up at Lucien again.

"I, I guess we'll just have, have to see if, if any of it is, is as, as sweet as, as you."

"Well, a tree can't stand without roots." Erica replied with a shrug, "I make sure to remember them."

When no one else would, she made sure not to add. The village wasn't doing it, so Erica was ready to wait for her parents' ghosts on her own.

They would approve of the way she was leading her life. So Erica always made sure to have a smile on her face while talking about them.

Willow took a moment to fix her hair. She had to look fabulous getting out of such a fancy car.

"Well, we sent him to the shadows. He can't be kicked out harder than that." Rook said, leaning over much like a curious bird would, "But I could probably help with that. After all, I'm the local dealer of cursed mental images."

"Never answer her texts past midnight." Lucien, a known victim of Rook's nonsense, warned.

"But the best trips are organized in the dead of night!" Rook replied, "It's no coincidence it's also the same time Bill is up and about, you know. It takes good planning and a nice cup of coffee!"

It was no coincidence that Rook was acting up either. Being surrounded by people who she loved and cherished and who returned the sentiment was the best feeling. To the point that she felt confident enough to get a bit silly and stroll up to the car to join her doubles.

Erica climbed out the same way she got in, tossing one leg over, then the other, before hopping on the sidewalk. Willow waited for Travis to open the door, but then joined her sisters in their little impromptu dance number.

Watching the scene finally got Lucien to connect the dots. "Ah! I know what they're doing."

"I don't know about building, but they're definitely putting up a show." Veronica mused.

Seeing as her daughters were distracted, the ghost lady decided to take the lead and walk in first, standing aside to hold the door open. She used her free hand to wave at the staff, who were all ready to receive them.

Overall, the place looked like any other ice cream shop with pastel colored decor and small tables that Lucien was certain to start cursing the second he'd sit down. It was rather quiet at the moment and quite cozy despite the glaring fact that all the employees were hovering just above the ground.

Lucien was quick to notice and shrug off the realization. "So, that's why they call this area the Ghost District."

"It's rather unimaginative, but yes. That's the gist of it." Veronica replied, "Come along now, Erika gets discounts here thanks to her job."

"You heard mama duck, move it." Lucien joked. He had nothing to fear now that they were out of the pocket.

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babextoken · 2 days ago

Text

yeah, I’ll fuckin text you back, I’m the dumbest girl alive

Dangerous to Me series ⟡ chapter 5

catch up or relive it ˚𝜗𝜚˚‧ masterlist

summary: or the Top 5 Most Mortifying Things to Happen at a Listening Party. Number 1 will make you reconsider accepting future invitations 🫣 pairing: Vessel x reader wc: 1.2k head's up: still the same old idiot frenemies in love, silly listicle format for a little bit, texting, yearning, Vessel throws a party, talking about sex, bizarre behavior a/n: I wrote this while riding in the car through the mountains in an attempt to not lose my mind. ⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ Situation Enjoyers™: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @okoatmeal @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @killed-by-thegods @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @evisnotok @cheomain @object-of-my-desire @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland @thedemonofsodom @canopies-of-gold-and-evergreen @thewayyoulay @houseofsleeptoken @jerrysghostwriter @music-lover23 @renegadebirch @blackcherrywhiskey @saythatuwill @temptation-waits @kenjipepsi1 @iiischeckeredsocks

recommended listening:

Coming in at #5: You didn’t know anyone at the party except for the host! Now maybe it’s controversial to rank this one so low, but you went in knowing this would be the case. Bonus points to you for having a fully charged phone and plenty of interesting apps to make it look like you were busy and in high demand!

#4: You and every other girl opted for the same little black dress and boots. Self explanatory but still irritating no less. What in the y/n fan fiction is this?

All of our introverts will appreciate this next one!

#3: There were no pets to hide with. What else is there to say?

#2: Vessel’s EP was good. Like really good. It seriously fucked. You’re now forced to concede that he has even more redeeming qualities than you previously thought.

And finally, #1:

Vessel iced you out. Well, was it really icing someone out if all you get is a polite nod and a raised beer bottle? You’re still not sure how you made the cut for this listening party. There had to be 30 or 40 people here, and it wasn’t even at his house. It was some rental space in a corporate building but you wouldn’t have been surprised by this information if you had just looked up the address instead of mindlessly plugging it into Maps. You had built up in your mind this fantasy of what this party would be…if you ruminated on it nightly then it would happen. You could will it into existence. You would come over in your slinky dress and bzzzt

m0thmansdad: my friend 😭 my account got hacked soz

What the hell? Instead of being a cynic, you decide to be the dreamy magical thinking girly and decide that it was fate that brought mothmansdad back to you during this abysmal party. Just as you were perfectly executing a French Exit an hour early, you got that message. Closing one door to open another. It always falls into place. You decide to message him back later once you’re home because you know you’ll get sucked in.

You: 😭 you’re back m0thmansdad: was worried I got your username wrong or something You: no, I was out actually. m0thmansdad: a date? 😏

You: no. A whack party.

Was the party actually whack? No. Not at all. You had to admit that the first couple of minutes just sitting for a bit listening to the EP as a group was awkward at first, but it was oddly…fulfilling to see Vessel listen to his EP and get instant feedback from his friends and colleagues. And everyone else’s reactions were priceless too. Perhaps Vessel had a more interesting and worthwhile life outside of the video store than you thought. But he still wouldn’t look at you. You were at the party but you weren’t “on the inside.” Some folks came up and asked how you knew Ves, but that was about it. It was at that moment you realized how different you were not just from this crowd but from people in general. You wanted to be engaging. Warm. But because Vessel ignored you, you felt like an unworthy outcast. As if the hivemind said, if Vessel doesn’t want to talk to her, then neither do we.

m0thmansdad: oh?

You: yeah. Coworker’s party. Didn’t go how I imagined it would.

m0thmansdad: dove, you should know better than to have high expectations with him smh

“Dove.” Doves were gentle, delicate creatures. You felt like a bull in a china shop on a good day.

You: I know. It wasn’t even expectations…it was full blown delulu time

m0thmansdad: how so

You: better to give it a voice

You: you don’t want to hear this anyways

m0thmansdad: I know my limits. And there are very few when it comes to you, my friend

you: alright. So he invited me to this party and told me not to mention it to our other coworkers

m0thmansdad: ok

you: so I thought…this is so stupid. I thought maybe it was a ruse to get me over there. And that I’d be the only one.

m0thmansdad: …?

You: like, ok, imagine it! It’s not that far-fetched. He invites me over for this party and on two separate occasions he asks me to not say anything to anyone else. And he called me a good girl when I said I wouldn’t.

m0thmansdad: Freud would have loved you

you: stfu dude. Anyways. So I imagined I’d get there, he’d invite me in…

It unfolded so softly in your mind. You’d knock on the door to Vessel’s place, and he’d greet you by looking you up and down in your pretty dress, thanking you for coming. Inside, the lights would be dim, the EP playing, a bottle of wine on the coffee table. But no guests.

“I must be fashionably early,” you’d joke.

“No, no…right on time,” Vessel would say as he took your purse for you.

Of course you had no idea what his place looked like, so you just imagined there’d be vinyls, maybe books. You’d spend a while looking around when you feel Vessel’s eyes dancing across your backside. Like out of a dream, you’d look back at him and ask softly, “when is everyone coming?”

You restarted and replayed this part of the fantasy over and over. Maybe Vessel would shrug, looking innocent, and tell you not to worry about the others. Or, maybe he’d stalk over to you, hands in his pockets whispering, “who, darling? No one else is coming.” Either way, you needed to end up on his lap.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he’d say as one wide hand grasps your waist as the other gently holds your jaw, his fingers making their way into your mouth. You’d moan softly, grinding against him and feeling the shared excitement building. Fucking him on the couch would probably be one of life’s greatest pleasures if you ever got the chance. If he ever gave you the attention you so desperately craved.

m0thmansdad: well then….

m0thmansdad: what an…active imagination you have. Thanks for sharing?

You must have glazed over and went into some kind of trance because you realize you practically sent him three paragraphs of your fantasy.

You: can we pretend I didn’t just send that?

m0thmansdad: we can pretend, sure, but I won’t forget. You know how to paint a pretty picture, dove

m0thmasdad: too bad you left early. he might have liked to get you alone once everyone was gone

You hadn’t considered that…but wait…

You: I never said I left early.

m0thmansdad: lucky guess since you thought it was so whack lol

m0thmansdad: unless I’m wrong?

m0thmansdad: dove?

the next morning

You: sorry, fell asleep. no. You were right. As always. French exited and everything.

m0thmansdad: no worries x

m0thmansdad: love that about you. you know what you want and you just do whatever. Refreshing.

You: that is my MO, yeah.

A few moments pass.

m0thmansdad: sorry to run but there’s someone absolutely pounding at my front door. It’s 9 am ffs 😩 you: mhm. No worries. I’m out and about anyways. Talk to you soon, I PROMISE! :) xoxo

#sleep token x reader #sleep token fan fiction #sleep token smut #sleep token fanfiction #vessel x reader #sleep token x you #fem reader #vessel x you #woofie's situations #Spotify

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vxnillabxn · 2 days ago

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ steamy, more than suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ nsfw, mdni! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚so, hm... hi! yeah, i had to get this scenario out of my head, so enjoy !! i suck when writing explicit things, so pls excuse me if it feels awkward. (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)

ever since you and caleb went to college, you two decided to rent a place together.

it was convenient in every sense, as the rent would be divided in two, and you were so used to each other's presence that being away for long wasn't really ideal.

plus, finding suitable roommates who weren't psycho, party animals or serial killers wasn't that easy.

caleb was more than okay.

he was ecstatic.

he got to check on you while also helping you out —and being around you— so he could rest at ease.

now, in terms of personal space…

caleb definitely needed some training.

you could be literally throwing dirty laundry into the washing machine, and he'd be behind you, peeking over your shoulder.

whenever you went outside for snacks, he casually happened to need something from the store too.

now, the few times you actually managed to be inside your room, he'd casually enter, offering something to drink, maybe a massage… or even just to sit around so you had his company.

he was like a puppy in that sense, and more often than not, you gave in and let him stay.

however, he's been quite intense recently.

…

well, to be fair, you confessed having feelings for him, and he confessed back almost instantly. obviously, he could finally kiss you, and hug you, and touch you, and…

and everything —that you were comfortable with— a soon-to-be boyfriend could do.

it started with massages.

this past weekend, when you were lying on your stomach scrolling through your phone, legs swinging lazily in the air, he quietly came up behind you.

he started massaging your ankles, your calves… then slowly moved up to the back of your thighs.

before you could stop the video, he chuckled.

“don't worry about me, pips. focus.”

and you really couldn't protest, because his hands felt so damn good.

after that, he continued with food.

he'd wake you up with homemade breakfast, cooking dishes from scratch —always the things you liked, even if he didn't enjoy them as much.

now… two days ago, you were playing with some friends.

you had your headset on, bickering and laughing, fingers pressing the buttons furiosly as you tried to win.

you sat cross-legged on the floor, too focused to notice when he slipped behind you.

it was too late before you felt his hands grab your waist, pulling you back onto his lap.

you let out a quiet gasp, and he covered your mic with one hand, the other gently covering your lips.

“focus, my sweet pips. you don't want to lose, do you?”

a cold shiver ran down your spine, even as heat rushed to your face.

you couldn't say anything — you didn't want your friends to hear.

besides… you weren't uncomfortable. if anything, you were torn between wanting to keep playing, and wanting to melt under his touch.

but you had to win, so you tried to focus.

caleb grinned. you were too damn good for him, and though his first plan was to distract you, he changed his mind.

he wanted to help you win, so you'd be free faster… and his.

he pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, then to your earlobe, then your jawline, and finally your cheek.

“go left, pips,” he whispered, his hand gliding along the left side of your waist.

you swallowed hard.

but you obeyed, dodging an attack.

“reload first,” he murmured, his breath so, so close to your skin until it tickled.

then, you felt him nibble your earlobe. it was so gentle you almost thought you imagined it.

“good… now stay low,” his hand moved lower, from your waist to your thigh, warm and steady.

was he giving instructions to you… or to himself?

“up,” he commanded, voice rough and quiet.

you obeyed, and felt his hand slide up too, brushing over your torso and your chest before resting lightly on your shoulder.

you let out a shaky breath.

“easy, pips. be patient. i know you'll win.”

you both stayed still, barely breathing, before he finally spoke.

now lower than before.

“green light. go for them.”

and when you did, as the “victory” screen showed up, he tilted his head and sank his teeth lightly into your neck, leaving a teasing bite mark where his canines left an imprint on your skin.

it didn't hurt; it just made you gasp, your heart beating way too fast.

your friends started asking what happened, but you stayed silent, face burning.

he smirked.

“i think that's enough violence exposure for today.”

he slipped off your headset, turned off the tv, and kissed your cheek softly.

“see? i knew you'd win, sweet pips.”

then he easily picked you in his arms, his gaze turning darker, almost hungry.

“but… since i was the mastermind, i won too. don't you think we both deserve a reward, hm?”

and you couldn't say no.

not when he was looking at you like that.

he really was like a puppy.

in a big wolf's body.

if he was already this intense before you were even officially together, you couldn't help but wonder what your first night as a real couple would be like.

but for now, you'd focus on tonight… and tomorrow morning too.

because his dark gaze told you he wasn't planning to let you go anytime soon.

#love and deepspace #loveanddeepspace #lads x you #lads #lads x reader #lads x y/n #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace x mc #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #xia yizhou #lads xia yizhou

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bubblyi3 · 7 hours ago

Text

Residuals PART 3 | JJK

"you were always the ‘what if’ in the back of his mind."

genre: childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au

word count: 16.5k

content warning: angst, mild smut, mild languages

summary: jungkook used to be your everything. your best friend, your first love. but you both grew up and grew apart. he’s now the campus heartbreaker, a cocky frat boy who runs with the worst crowd. when a cruel dare asks him to destroy you just for the fun of it. everything shatters. trust. hearts. and maybe the chance to ever put it back together.

author's note: hiiiiii everyone!! so sorry it took forever to update, but the long awaited part 3 is finally here 🤍 TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED <3 there's so many of you on it... that’s insane :o anyways the angst still isn’t over 😭 but thank you so so much to everyone who’s been keeping up with this series (and my other stuff too) it honestly means the world to me :) ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵠᵘᶦⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵗᵉⁿᵗᶦᵃˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʳᶦᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ

if there are any grammar mistakes, i apologise in advance 😅 anyways happy reading ✨ and pls do send me more of your thoughts and opinions 💭❤️ i love reading them and responding to you all 😊💬💖 :)))

PROLOGUE || PART 1 || PART 2

🏷️ taglist: @whoa-jo / @username23345 / @kelsyx33 / @toosweetforyall / @junniesoleilkth / @literallyjimin / @jeeykey / @stars4kooo / @delulutofr / @smoljimjim / @elithenium / @mysoulherofriend / @ukndtwme / @somehowukook / @songbyeonkim / @miakay98 / @sundains / @bjoriis / @kooever / @dragonflygurl4 / @labbbaaa / @cherricherryy / @jeongguks-posts / @rexana19 / @ppeachyttae / @ssbb-22 / @anydzia / @multifanbigbang / @fairyflorasworld / @miakay98 / @taetaecatboy / @mangify / @lachimolalajeon / @mikrokosmosellen / @blueberriesm / @aliceinthewornderland / @taebreezs / @yunhoswrldddd / @ayecannot / @aestheticalime / @llallaaa / @softchannie / @nikilig / @amarawayne / @vinylphwoar / @gizaspicebag / @jkwritez / @prettyjmsworld / @00frenchfries00 / @ennvfv / @bhonbhon / @kissyfacekoo / @alextgef / @zorj4yrk / @roguesthetic / @avawants2havefun / @hoelychildofgod

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] His fingers closed around the cold neck of a beer bottle that someone handed him. It was a simple gesture, but one that anchored him to the moment, and made him feel a little least invisible. The condensation slipped down onto his skin, grounding him in something real, something physical, while his mind buzzed with everything he was trying to ignore. You.

Jungkook could feel the bass thumping through the floor, see the blur of bodies moving in and out of the living room, the warmth of alcohol loosening conversations around him that he wasn’t really part of. He wasn’t sure why he came tonight. But Jimin had insisted he should come and meet the guys.

From his perspective, if a friend group had a label, Kim Namjoon would be the leader. The young man looked steady, observant, and he was instinctively respected by everyone, without him ever needing to say much. Namjoon leaned forward from where he sat on the armrest of the couch, eyes settling on Jungkook. “So, what are you studying man?”

Jungkook blinked, startled by the sudden question, then gave a small shrug. ��Majoring in film production.”

Namjoon’s face lit up with an easy approval. “That’s awesome, man. Are you looking to direct in the future or…?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jungkook said, settling down the beer bottle on the small coffee table in front. “Something behind the camera, maybe. Cinematography, editing. I like building things from the background.”

There was a pause. A small, knowing hum from Namjoon.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You seem like someone who notices the details. The stuff most people miss. That’s what makes films good, y’know?”

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t used to being seen like that. Especially not by someone he barely knew. His default was to shrink back, to play it cool. But there was something disarming about Namjoon’s tone. Like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and that’s something Jungkook secretly envied.

Jungkook murmured a soft 'Thanks,' his fingers brushing the bottle on the table before he took a slow sip. The taste was sharp, almost sour, but it was enough to ground him, distracting from the tightness in his chest.

Across the room, someone laughed too loudly, and another song took over the playlist, its bass vibrating through the floor. For a moment, Jungkook let the noise wash over him, pretending things were simpler than they were. Pretending he didn’t feel like he was being pulled in two directions. He cares about you… he really does. That was never in question. But sometimes, that care felt more like a duty than a choice. That care came layered with so many expectations. From his parents, from yours, from everyone who ever saw you two side by side and assumed it was only a matter of time. As if love was something that came with a checklist.

And then there was everything else. The uni experience, the friends, the freedom, the girls, the version of himself he hadn’t fully lived yet. The late nights, the recklessness, the adrenaline of being young and answerable to no one. He knew he was supposed to be better than that, but part of him craved the chaos.

You made him better, and that terrifies him. Because you also made him vulnerable. And no one else could touch that soft, exposed part of him… not even himself. And then just as if Jungkook knew that the silence was a bit obvious now and how he lost he was in his own thoughts. He gave a small shake of his head and turned to Namjoon.

“How about you?” Jungkook asked, more to fill the space than from any real curiosity.

Namjoon smiled, tipping his bottle toward Jungkook before answering. “In my third year in Psych. Planning to go into counseling eventually. I wanna help people figure out their mess.”

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “That’s heavy.”

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed, leaning back. "But I think it’s kind of worth it... Humans are so complex, you know? It’s fascinating, and then there are moments where it’s just like, 'What the fuck?'"

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was brief, the atmosphere shifting again as if someone had flipped a switch. Another guy, grinning just across from Jungkook, jerked his chin toward the girl Taehyung had just been making out with. “Yo, ever fucked someone that hot before?” At that moment, Jungkook's surroundings started becoming clearler as Namjoon wasn’t the only person keeping him company, there were others. Observing and listening.

The room erupted in hoots, whistles, laughter that felt sharp around the edges.

Jungkook froze. The question landed like a punch he hadn’t braced for. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Until Jimin, quick and composed, stepped in. “Hey, JK’s got a girl, alright?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise.

All eyes turned to Jungkook.

He swallowed and forced a steady breath. “Yeah. Y/n. She’s my childhood bestfriend. She also studies here… we’re not together or anything. But I care about her. A lot.”

The room slightly quited as if they hadn’t expected the sincerity. Jimin gave him a short nod, one that said I’ve got your back, even if his eyes flickered with something else. Guilt, maybe. Or something close to it.

Hoseok, ever the provocateur, smirked from the couch and nudged him. “So... is she hot?”

Jungkook blinked, a little thrown by the pivot, but answered without hesitation. “She’s more than that. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”

One of the guys exchanged a look with another, like maybe Jungkook had missed the tone of the conversation. But Jimin’s expression shifted. It was less teasing now, more proud. Like he didn’t expext Jungkook to say it, but was glad he did.

“That’s actually kinda cute,” Yoongi laughed, shaking their head.

“Yeah, man,” Jin chimed in, grinning. “You’ve got it easy. A childhood bestfriend and a girlfriend if you ever feel like calling it that. Built-in relationship… practically arranged marriage, huh?”

The guys laughed, but the comment hit something deeper in Jungkook. Because it wasn’t far off.

He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but suddenly he was back in his hallway, no older than thirteen, pausing at the corner when he heard both your mums talking in the living room. The door was slightly ajar, the warm hum of their voices drifting out with the smell of dinner.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up together?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it more than once. They’re so close already. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“They balance each other out. Jungkook’s a little wild, and Y/n grounds him. And she lights up whenever he’s around.”

He hadn’t known what to make of it back then. Just flushed, embarrassed, unsure if it was something he was supposed to want too. And now, years later, it lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost that never really left.

Namjoon leaned in again, but his voice had changed. No longer friendly, but testing. “That is cute. But if you’re thinking of hanging with us more, man… might wanna rethink that. With us? Girls are just noise. Drama. Mind games.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his beer for a second before shaking his head, calm but firm. “Y/n’s not like that. I trust her.”

Jimin gave him a quiet, approving smile. But Jungkook caught the way his eyes dropped after, guilt shadowing them like a secret not yet confessed.

Namjoon raised his bottle, tilting it slightly with a smirk. “It’s bros before hoes around here, like it or not.”

The words hit the room like a dare. Everyone exchanged grins, waiting to see if Jungkook would fall in line.

Hoseok leaned, his tone slick and easy. “Think about it, man. Why get tied down? Girls are just trouble. They’re clingy, insecure, cheating messes. We’ve all been burned. It’s easier when it’s just casual, no mess, no strings.”

Jungkook glanced around the circle of grins, half-baked wisdom, and barely concealed resentment.

“Alright, JK… why don’t you bring her around?” Namjoon said, gesturing to the group. “We wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

There was a pause. Just a few seconds too long. The kind that made it obvious he was thinking too hard. His fingers curled tighter around the bottle again, knuckles whitening ever so slightly. He could still hear the music, the bass thrumming beneath his feet like a heartbeat he couldn’t shut out. But it all felt distant now. Muted.

Bring you around?

It should’ve been a simple request. Hell, if this were any other moment, any other group, he might’ve said sure and left it at that. You would’ve smiled at them, probably brought a snack to share, maybe even teased Jungkook in front of them and made it all feel easy.

But this didn’t feel easy.

But then, just as quickly, the version of himself that always felt like he had something to prove kicked in. The part that hated silence more than confrontation. The part that didn’t want to seem like he had anything to hide.

So Jungkook exhaled through his nose, forced his jaw to unclench, and gave a small shrug. “Sure,” he said, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jungkook stayed frozen on the edge of his bed for a long while, phone still glowing in his palm, the words from the group chat staring back at him like vultures circling.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. The urge to shut it all down, to tell them to fuck off, to admit that this wasn’t just a game, was strong. A flicker of something real sparked deep in his chest.

But just as fast, his pride doused it.

Because the moment he admitted that the kiss meant something… that you still meant something… was the moment he handed them power. Gave them reason to question him. And he couldn’t afford that. Not when everything about his place in that group, hinged on keeping up the version of himself they expected.

The unshakable, unbothered golden boy. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To feel free? To dive into the party life, the girls, the games? To never be tied down by anyone or anything, to live on his terms without the weight of expectations or the messy emotions that came with real connections?

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned back, tossing his phone on the mattress like it burned him. He stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.

You were different now. Stronger. Softer in ways that made his chest ache and harder in ways that reminded him he couldn’t reach you like he used to.

And yet, despite the distance and time, you still let him in. You still kissed him back. It felt hesitant, unsure... but you did.

Was that love?

Or just muscle memory?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not when it complicated everything.

He wasn’t ready for complicated. He wasn’t ready for you.

What he was ready for was the game. The one they all expected him to win. The one he said he didn’t care about, but still hadn’t walked away from.

So, he grabbed his phone again, shaking off the urge to just ignore the chat entirely.

Jungkook typed slowly, carefully choosing his words.

[Jungkook]: She kissed me back. Easy.

He hit send. Delivered. Read.

A fresh wave of messages followed. Laughing emojis. Shit talk. Praise. Hoseok even dropped a gif of someone fake bowing in admiration. And Jungkook laid there, letting it all wash over him, blank-faced.

The truth was, it wasn’t easy.

It felt like shit.

But none of them needed to know that.

This version of Jungkook. Frat Jungkook, ego Jungkook. He was untouchable. Confident. Cruel, if he had to be. And for now, he had to be.

Because if he stopped and let the real Jungkook through. The one who still remembered your favorite snack, the one who used to race you home from school just to see you smile when he let you win. The one who you've seen cried at the end of sad movies. He’d break.

And breaking was not an option.

He got up, stripped off his hoodie, and headed to the bathroom, trying to shake the feel of your lips from his skin, like maybe a cold splash of water could cleanse him of the guilt.

But it clung to him. Silent. Invisible.

That kiss had felt like something.

But tonight, he’d pretend it wasn’t.

And tomorrow, he’d keep playing the part. Because his pride still mattered more than the truth.

And his ego?

Still louder than his heart.

The days crept by, and Jungkook still had no idea how the hell he was supposed to fix what he broke. Whatever this had become. How to get you back on his radar, to look you in the eyes again without feeling like a stranger in a place that once felt like home. It wasn't just miscommunication or time apart. It wasn't subtle. Not a flinch or a misread. It was because he crossed a line.

A line that had always been blurry between you two, but still unspoken. At the night he kissed you, everything changed.

He knew why you were avoiding him. And you were good at it, too.

He’d catch glimpses of you through your bedroom window, hear your footsteps upstairs when he stopped by with his parents for dinner or a chat. But you always found a way to slip out of reach. Like tonight, Jungkook had come over with his parents. The kind of casual weeknight dinner that used to mean movie nights, teasing over who got the last piece of chicken, and you curled up next to him on the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And your mum who's always composed and always warm, placed a dish on the dining table with that same practiced smile. "Y/n had an early dinner. She's in her room studying… or doing God knows what."

"Or sleeping," your dad added, chuckling softly as he poured himself a drink.

Jungkook had forced a smile. He didn’t say what he was thinking, that he knew you weren’t sleeping. That he’d heard your desk chair scrape against the floor a few minutes ago from upstairs or some faint mumbling going on behind your door.

Anyways it was clear to Jungkook you were avoiding him... not dinner, not studying.

“Kook, did your mum mention anything about Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party at the community hall?” your mum asked casually, reaching across to top up the banchan.

“Oh! That totally slipped my mind,” his mum said, letting out a soft laugh as she covered her mouth, still chewing on a bite of japchae.

Jungkook blinked. “Mrs. Kwon?” he repeated, brow slightly furrowed. He glanced at his own mum beside him, who gave a small nod as she sipped her tea.

But then it clicked.

Oh.

Mrs. Kwon.

His eyes softened with recognition.

She was you and Jungkook's old elementary school teacher. The one who used to call you two the twins even though you looked nothing alike. Who would jokingly separate your seats because “one giggle from her and you’re both done for.” The same Mrs. Kwon who became a close friend to both your mums after you graduated.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, letting the memory settle. “She’s retiring?” he asked, still surprised. “Isn’t she still pretty young?”

His dad gave a small smile. “She is. But I think she just wants more time for herself. Travel, pottery classes, yoga retreats. She said she’s done wrangling kids and chalk dust.”

“Honestly,” your dad added with a laugh from the other end of the room, “she’s earned it. Thirty years of dealing with other people’s kids? I would’ve retired ten years ago.”

Jungkook shook his head with a grin. “Man. It's been so long. Those were the good old days.”

Your mum’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary. “You know she still asks about you and Y/n."

Jungkook froze for half a beat, then glanced toward the staircase.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Yeah?”

“She’s always had a soft spot for the both of you,” his mum said. “Said it was nice, watching two kids grow up so close.”

Jungkook didn’t reply right away.

Just traced his thumb over the edge of his glass and let the quiet speak.

“So, about the retirement party,” your mum began, glancing between Jungkook and everyone else at the table. “It’d be great if you and Y/n could run a few errands this Friday. Pick up some things from the list, decorations, maybe a cake or even a gift from both of you.”

“Don’t worry too much about the food,” she added. “Your mum and I have that covered.”

“As for the invitations,” his mum chimed in, gesturing with her chopsticks, “We’ll leave that to the old men. Your dad and Y/n’s. They’ll take care of getting the word out. Just make sure we invite as many locals as we can... anyone who knew Mrs. Kwon.”

Jungkook, quietly sipping his soup, hummed in response.

“Would you be alright to help, Jungkook?” your mum asked, turning to him. “Or will you be too caught up with uni work?”

He paused, lowering his spoon.

Technically, yes. He had a deadline this week for a film analysis report in which he yet needed to finish. But this? This was an opportunity. He wasn’t dumb. This was the perfect excuse to pull you out of your room… and into his space.

Driving around together. Picking out party supplies. Arguing over whether to go with a chocolate cake or something fancier. A chance to chip away at whatever wall you were building, without making it obvious he cared enough to try.

“Actually,” he added, more confidently now, “it sounds like a good way to take a break from studying.... I’m keen.”

There was a beat of silence, then your mum gave a pleased smile and nodded. "I'll let Y/n know."

And Jungkook just nodded back, reaching for his glass of water, fingers curling gently around it as if grounding himself.

He didn’t let his face show anything. But his heart?

It was already upstairs.

Waiting. Wondering that maybe somewhere, buried beneath the silence and space. He was still in there. In your heart. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him anymore.

It was now the first Thursday of the semester break, and you still had another full week before uni started up again. A whole week left to keep avoiding him, to sit with your feelings.

You’d tried everything to stay distracted. Kept your head down, nose buried in business assignments. You were now halfway through your marketing research paper. Highlighting sentences you’d probably have to reread anyway. You have even reorganized your folders and colour-coded your calendar. Just for the illusion of control.

You knew Jungkook had come over for dinner with his parents last night. You'd made sure to eat something earlier to avoid being tempted. But as the evening wore on, the delicious smell of your mom’s cooking wafted upstairs, and your stomach betrayed you. Reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

Still, you stayed put. Ear pressed half-heartedly to your pillow, mind tuned in to every laugh from downstairs, every familiar voice drifting through the walls. It felt wrong, this strange game of hide-and-seek in your own house. But you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You tried to ignore it, pushing the hunger aside as you waited for him and his parents to leave. The moment the front door clicked shut and silence settled again, you crept out of your room and rushed downstairs to raid the kitchen for leftovers.

Ever since that kiss, Jungkook's been louder than usual. Some nights his music blares through the walls, followed by bursts of laughter at whatever he's watching. You've laid in bed more than once thinking, What the hell is he on?

You wanted to text him, Tell him to keep it down.

But no. You're not going to be the first to cave.

You'd rather call noise control than send him a message.

Which brings you to now. Sitting in front of your laptop, and on the other end of the video call, Hana’s jaw drops, eyes bulging in disbelief.

“He did what now?!” she nearly shrieks, sloshing her drink dangerously close to the edge.

You flinch. “Shhh!” you hiss, immediately glancing toward your door. The last thing you needed was your parents overhearing this conversation.

Without another word, you slip up from your chair and quietly close the door, pressing it shut like sealing off a secret.

“Hana, seriously, keep your voice down.”

“No, because what the actual fuck,” she fires back, already too far gone. “Jungkook kissed you? Your Jungkook? The same one who’s been acting like you don’t exist and probably collecting STDs like Pokémon cards?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Can you not call him ‘my Jungkook’? He’s not my anything.”

Hana narrows her eyes at you. “Oh no. Don’t do that thing where you downplay it. Start talking. How, when, where?”

You sigh, defeated. “It was after my Halmoni’s house. He drove me home. We barely said a word the whole ride, and then he just pulled over. No warning. Just looked at me like… like he didn’t know who I was, or maybe he did and hated it. Then he kissed me.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the call. Hana blinks, “And?”

“And I kissed him back. For a second.” You exhale, voice small. “I let it happen. I don’t even know why. Then I snapped out of it and told him he doesn’t get to do that. He dropped me home and left.”

Hana stares. “You’re telling me that the human disaster who ghosted you on your birthday, humiliated you in front of his dumbass frat friends, and ignored you for months just waltzed back into your life and kissed you like nothing happened?”

You shrug, half-hearted. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Hana leans in closer to the camera, her eyes narrowed. "Okay, this guy does not get to make you his unfinished business."

You blink. "I know."

She raises a finger, like she’s about to drop some serious wisdom. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You almost laugh, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. "You think he's playing me? I mean, since we’ve been home for the break, I’ve pretty much got the upper hand. I could literally tell his parents what kind of influence he’s been hanging around."

Hana’s eyes widen. "Ohhh, you wouldn’t."

"Maybe… maybe not," you reply with a shrug.

There’s a beat of silence between you, the soft hum of your laptop fan filling the void as your gaze shifts to your untouched research paper. On the other end of the screen, Hana is now sprawled out on her bed, her laptop teetering on her knees, a look of pure academic defeat on her face.

“Honestly,” she sighs, shoving her hair into a messy bun, “I need a break from these goddamn business papers. If I have to reference Porter’s Five Forces one more time, I’ll commit an actual crime.”

You snort. “Same. I opened a blank doc and somehow ended up trauma-dumping instead of writing anything useful.”

“Valid,” she says with a lazy nod, sipping from her chipped mug. Then her expression shifts as something sparks in her mind. “Oh! Omg, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw freaking Park Jimin at the gym yesterday.”

You blink, confused for a second. “Wait, Park Jimin as in Jungkook’s Jimin?”

“Yes!” she grins. “Like, actual golden-boy, smile-that-could-end-wars, Park Jimin.”

You sit up a little straighter, curiosity piqued.

“He is so hot. Obviously. But also... surprisingly nice? Like, I was lowkey panicking because I dropped my drink bottle and it rolled across the floor, and he actually walked over and picked it up for me.”

“Classic Jimin,” you murmur, the corner of your mouth lifting.

Because out of all the frat guys Jungkook had introduced you to that night. Jimin was the only one who hadn’t treated you like a punchline or some extension of Jungkook’s ego. No sideways smirks. No stupid comments. Just a small bow, a kind smile, and genuine conversation about your classes. It had surprised you then, and stuck with you.

Hana raises a brow. “Wait, you’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice softer now. “He was actually the only one who wasn’t a total ass.”

Hana hums thoughtfully, picking up on the subtle shift in your tone. “Then why’s he even hanging out with them?”

You pause, eyes flicking back to your laptop screen before forcing a breath through your nose. “Doesn’t matter,” you say, a little sharper now. “Hot or nice doesn’t mean anything.”

You sit up straighter, like you're brushing it all off. “You know that saying.... ‘birds of a feather flock together’?”

Hana nods slowly on the other end.

“Yeah, well... if Jungkook’s an asshole, then deep down Jimin is too. They all are. That’s the company they keep.”

A silence settles after your last words, the kind that isn't uncomfortable, just weighted. Like both of you know there's more underneath, but neither of you wants to touch it.

The gentle whir of your laptop fan fills the space again, joined now by the faint golden light bleeding in from the window beside you. It's warmer than before, softer. You blink and glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. 4:27 PM.

You rub your eyes, surprised. “Wait… have we seriously been on this call since, like 11 AM?”

Hana glances at her own clock and groans. “Holy shit. We’re disgusting.”

You both laugh, and for a moment, things feel lighter again.

“I haven’t even eaten a proper meal today,” you mutter, stretching your arms above your head. Your shoulders crack in protest. “I think I’ve fully fused into this chair.”

“Girl, go feed yourself,” Hana snorts. “I think my spine’s permanently curved from sitting like a shrimp.”

You smile, the tension from earlier finally easing. “Alright, I’m logging off. Let’s pretend we were productive.”

“We were productive. Emotionally,” she smirks.

You shake your head, fondness curling at the edges of your chest. “Talk later?”

“Always.”

The call ends with a soft click, the screen blinking back to your cluttered desktop. But without Hana’s voice, the room feels a little too quiet, a little too still.

You lean back in your chair, exhaling deeply.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about Jimin again. And then, inevitably, about Jungkook.

But you don’t go there.

You get up instead, heading downstairs for the kitchen, telling yourself it’s just hunger. Not the ache of things left unsaid.

As you finally made your way downstairs, the warmth of home greeted you, mingled with the faint scent of jasmine perfume and musky cologne lingering subtly in the air. Your eyes caught your dad lounging on the couch, half-watching one of his usual TV shows, while your mum was at the dining table, carefully putting away plates and cutlery like she was trying not to make a sound.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you. “Oh, there she is! Finally out of her cave,” your dad teased with a grin, not even looking away from the screen.

You blinked for a moment, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t the joke that caught you off guard, but how put-together both your parents looked. Your mum, usually in house slippers and a robe by this hour, was wearing pressed dress pants, a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly at the waist, and just a hint of makeup that brightened her face.

Your dad of all people, had actually combed his hair, swapped his usual tee for a button-up, and even wore cologne. For someone supposedly just relaxing at home, it all felt... suspiciously polished.

“Y/n, I saved some dinner for you,” your mum said sweetly, motioning toward the covered dishes on the bench. “Made your favorites.”

“Oh... you guys already ate?” you asked, glancing at the untouched place settings.

“Well, not exactly,” she replied, a spark in her tone. “Your dad and I are heading out in a bit. Double date with Jungkook’s parents. We’re going to that comedy night in town.”

“Wow,” you said, raising a brow. “And no invite for me?”

Your dad chuckled, finally turning off the TV and rising from the couch to grab his coat. “We figured you’d be buried under uni work, and honestly... we booked the tickets ages ago."

“Next time, okay?” your mum added gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a soft kiss to your temple before moving past you.

As your dad pocketed the car keys and straightened his jacket, he gave you a small wave. “Don’t wait up. We won’t be too long.”

You gave a half-smile, returning the wave. “Alright, have fun. And don’t go too crazy.”

They both laughed lightly before heading to the door. Just as your mum reached for the handle, she turned back casually, as if it were an afterthought.

“Oh, and before I forget,” she said. “Jungkook will be coming over soon to keep you company. I asked him to swing by so you two can catch up. I was also hoping you could make time to run a few errands with him tomorrow morning. Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party is this Saturday, and we need a few things picked up. Decorations, cake, a few bits and bobs. It’d be a big help.”

You froze slightly, the mention of his name shifting something in your chest. Your expression faltered for a second, but your mum had already turned away, smiling as she stepped out the door.

“Be nice,” she added with a wink, then closed it behind her. Leaving you alone in the silence of the hallway... with the unwanted thought of the one person you hadn’t planned on seeing.

Once the door shut, the house settled into a stillness that felt louder than it should have. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, shoulders sinking slightly as you turned away from the entryway.

With nothing better to do and your stomach reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, you padded toward the kitchen and lifted the food cover your mum had mentioned. The sight alone made your stomach flutter with anticipation. Steaming rice, glistening teriyaki chicken, and a generous serving of cheesy tteokbokki on the side, the melted mozzarella still holding some stretch. Hell yes!

You sat at the table and ate in comfortable silence, demolishing the entire plate without pause. It tasted like everything you've been craving.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes, you wandered back toward the stairs, but instead of heading straight up, your eyes flicked toward the mirror in the hallway. You looked… okay. Still in your oversized hoodie and sweats, hair in a loose bun. It was comfortable, sure, but suddenly, you found yourself hesitating.

It’s just Jungkook, you told yourself. Why the hell did it matter?

But your feet were already carrying you upstairs. Within minutes, you changed into something a little more presentable. A soft-knit top and loose black pants. Hair down. A swipe of lip balm. You hated how subconscious it made you feel.

You made your way back down, trying not to think too much about it, and collapsed onto the couch. The quiet hum of a random drama played in the background, but your attention was fractured. You glanced at your phone. The screen lit up. No new messages. Not even a quick “on my way.”

Why would you even expect that? This wasn’t the Jungkook who used to spam you with dumb selfies and memes when he was two minutes late. This was the new Jungkook. The distant one. The one who became someone else.

You found yourself walking toward the front window anyway.

From the living room, the view into Jungkook’s place was partially blocked by the hedges, but you could still make out the soft golden lights inside. No signs of him stepping out. You watched for a moment longer than you wanted to, then sighed and backed away, arms folded across your chest.

Time passed. You checked your phone again. Somehow, over an hour and a half had slipped by. You were now lying sideways on the couch, the show long forgotten in the background, the half-watched episode just white noise to your thoughts, and you had slowly dozed off. Your eyes slowly closing.

And then... the sound of the doorbell snapped you upright.

Your heart did something strange. You blinked, disoriented by how fast your body reacted.

You sat frozen for a moment, just staring toward the door.

It was him. It had to be.

You swallowed, then slowly got up, smoothing the creases from your pants with clammy palms. And as you made your way toward the front door, every step was a quiet reminder.

It’s just Jungkook.

It’s just Jungkook. So why did it feel like anything but? Hana’s words looped in your mind, her voice sharp and warning. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You swallowed, knowing she was right. Though you're still the Y/n that Jungkook grew up with since diapers. You were never blind. You knew how to read between the lines. You weren't naive. So if Jungkook was playing whatever game this was, whether it was guilt, avoidance, or something more complicated. Then two could play at that game. But could you? Could you keep up if his presence was exactly what you wanted?

The thought made your grip tighten on the door handle as you pulled it open slowly. You’d expected… something colder. A distant nod, a mumbled hey, maybe that faraway look he’s been wearing. The one that made it seem like he was always halfway somewhere else, even when standing right in front of you.

But instead you've met with something entirely different.

“Sorry for the wait,” Jungkook said, his voice light, almost too casual. He held up two steaming boxes of pizza in one hand and a cold bottle of Coke Zero in the other, like some peace offering wrapped in garlic crust and carbonated bubbles.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

There he was. Bathed in the warm hue of the porch light, eyes bright, skin soft and golden like he’d just stepped out of a memory. His hair was tousled like he’d run his fingers through it on the way over, and he wore one of those effortlessly oversized hoodies paired with gray sweats that somehow made existing look like an aesthetic. He looked like comfort. Like the version of him you hadn’t seen in far too long.

And he was smiling. That familiar smile, lazy and warm. A little crooked at the corners. The lip ring he wears now was gone, and your gaze faltered for a beat too long at his mouth. Those lips. The ones that were on yours days ago. However, the Jungkook that is now standing before you felt real, warm and familiar. Not the stranger from the frat parties, not the guy who never texted back.

You folded your arms instinctively, a half-hearted shield. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, tone cooler than you meant. “I can look after myself, you know.”

Jungkook tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes, but you kept them trained elsewhere. On the bottle of soda, the floor, anywhere but his face.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “but where’s the fun in that?” There was a beat, a pause in his voice. Then, a little quieter, “And… I wanted to. Plus, we should probably talk. About… you know. That night.”

Before you could respond, he stepped inside, breezing past you like muscle memory, like he hadn’t spent the last few months being emotionally MIA. He handed you the chilled Coke, the condensation cool against your palms, then toed off his shoes and headed straight for the living room.

He placed the pizza boxes gently on the coffee table, like it was any other night. And you stood there in the doorway for just a second longer, your heart a little too loud, your mind a little too full. Because the one thing you weren’t ready for was the version of him that actually looked like he cared.

Jungkook glanced at the TV, the flickering light reflecting in his eyes. "Wait... is this Never Have I Ever?"

You gave a small shrug, still standing with the bottle of Coke in hand. “Yeah. I rewatch it when I don’t know what else to put on.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Classic comfort show. Still team Paxton?"

"Always," you muttered under you breath, trying not to smile.

Jungkook chuckled and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table, already lifting the lids off both pizza boxes. The warm, cheesy scent hit the air instantly. Garlicky, spicy, a little sweet. It filled the room like nostalgia.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna make me eat all this alone, are you?”

You sighed like it was a hassle, but your body was already moving toward him. “You’re lucky it smells good,” you muttered, placing the Coke bottle on the table before heading to the kitchen cupboard.

He made a satisfied little sound as he picked up a slice, steam still curling from the crust. “Mmm... this is so hot,” he said through a mouthful, not even trying to be graceful.

You grabbed two cups and returned, lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. Well, not beside him. You gave yourself some breathing room, settling cross-legged just far enough away that your knees wouldn’t accidentally bump. The space felt necessary, like an invisible boundary you weren’t ready to cross.

Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He was already flicking through Netflix titles with the remote, chewing like a man who hadn’t eaten all day.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, eyes still on the screen.

“I actually had dinner not too long ago,” you replied, pouring the Coke into the glasses. “Mum made teriyaki chicken and cheesy tteokbokki.”

He paused and looked over at you with mock betrayal. “Without me?”

"Well sorry but I'm actually her daughter. My mum doesn't need to feed for two kids."

“Tch.” He shook his head. “That’s cold, Y/n. Real cold.”

You handed him a glass and picked up a slice for yourself. “Relax. I can still manage two or three slices. It’s pizza... we make room.”

“That’s the one,” he said, raising his glass like a toast.

You clinked your glass gently against his without thinking, then took a sip.

For a few quiet minutes, the only sounds were the soft hum of the TV, the crinkle of pizza crust, and the shared silence between two people trying not to say everything they were actually thinking.

And as Jungkook scrolled aimlessly through the movie options, mumbling indecisively about rom-coms versus thrillers, you wondered if he was stalling. If maybe, like you, he didn’t want to rush into talking about that night.

Not yet.

Jungkook finally stopped scrolling, landing on some flashy action flick with explosions, car chases, and intense background music already playing in the trailer.

“Ooh,” he said, eyes lighting up. “This one’s got Michael B. Jordan. Heard it’s sick.”

You glanced at the title, fighting the urge to protest. Action wasn’t exactly your go-to, but… Michael B. Jordan was in it. And you weren’t in the mood to start a debate.

“Fine,” you said, biting into another slice. “But only because of him.”

Jungkook smirked knowingly as he hit play. “I mean, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

You let out a small laugh. “Exactly."

The movie started, the opening scene loud and dramatic, but your focus drifted in and out. Not because it wasn’t good. But because sitting this close to Jungkook again after all that time was... disorienting. The space between you two felt physically small, but emotionally stretched. Like everything that hadn’t been said was sitting in that gap between you, unspoken and waiting.

As the movie played, the two of you exchanged casual commentary. Snarky one-liners, shared reactions when a twist hit, small laughs that softened the air.

“Okay, that was cool,” you muttered after one particularly clean fight sequence.

Jungkook nodded, mouth full of crust. “Right? The stunt work in this is crazy.”

You didn’t look at him when you spoke, and yet you could feel his presence beside you so acutely. It was like your body remembered this closeness even when your brain tried to play it off.

And what you didn’t notice or pretended not to, was how Jungkook kept sneaking glances your way.

They were brief. Almost too quick to catch. The kind of glances that happened in the in-between moments. When you laughed at something on screen, when you reached for another slice, when you tucked your hair behind your ear like you always used to do.

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize something.

Like he missed something.

Like maybe he was finally realizing just how long it had been.

But when you turned your head even slightly, he always looked away. Back to the movie, back to the screen, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position and curling one leg under the other, hugging your knees loosely to your chest. The buzz of the action scene played on, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness, to the way his knee occasionally brushed yours when he moved. Not intentional but not avoided either.

It was almost funny. How the two of you could sit there and pretend to be casual. Like your friendship hadn’t changed at all.

You reached for your Coke, taking a sip, eyes still on the screen.

And beside you, Jungkook smiled to himself. Not because of the movie.

But because you were still here.

And for once. Subconsciously, the bet was at the back of his mind.

The movie was still playing, but neither of you were really following it anymore. The sound of distant gunfire and dramatic dialogue had faded into background noise. Your half-finished glass of Coke sat forgotten on the coffee table, and the warmth of the pizza had long settled in your stomach.

Jungkook shifted beside you, just enough for you to notice.

And then, without looking directly at you, he murmured, “We should probably talk about it.”

You didn’t need to ask what it was. You already knew.

The silence stretched for a second. Maybe two.

Your stomach tightened, and instinctively, you looked away, pretending to focus on the screen. But nothing about the movie held your attention anymore. You drew in a slow breath, steadying yourself.

“Okay... let's talk,” you said, even though you didn’t need to say it out loud.

Jungkook finally turned to face you. His jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always were when he was working up the nerve to be honest.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That night. After Halmeoni.”

There was no hiding the shift in the room. The mood. The weight of memory.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he added, voice tight with regret. “Not when everything was so raw. Not when I didn’t even know what it meant for me yet.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your pants. “Yeah. You shouldn’t have.”

The words were sharper than you intended, but not untrue. That kiss had thrown you off balance. Stunned and shocked in a way you hadn't expected. Deep down, you thought he’d say something, explain himself. Instead, after you pulled away first, still trying to make sense of it all, you told him to just drive you home. And once you arrived, he handed you the keys without a word and walked back to his house, leaving you standing alone in the quiet aftermath.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I didn’t mean to mess things up between us.”

“You did, though.”

He looked down, jaw tightening. “I know.”

You sighed, the fight leaving your voice. “I get it, Jungkook. Things have been different. You’re at uni, trying to find your people. Make your own life. You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked up at you then, fast. “But I do. I do owe you something. I owe you more than disappearing on you like that. I owe you the truth.”

You stared at him, letting him speak this time.

“I’ve been acting like I don’t care. But I do. So much,” he said, voice low, shaking slightly with the weight of the admission. “Yes... I’ve been trying to fit in. Trying to keep up with everyone and everything. The guys I hang with, the late nights, the drinking, the parties... I thought if I threw myself into it hard enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about all the things I left behind.”

Your chest ached, but you said nothing.

He leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared down at the floor. “But I still think about you. Even when I don’t message. Even when I pretend not to notice you walking past me on campus. I still care, Y/n. That hasn’t changed.”

You swallowed hard, blinking quickly, your voice soft but steady. “Then why did it feel like I was the only one who did?”

Jungkook looked at you then and it was different. Not the careless glances from across campus corridors. Not the soft stares during movie nights when you were younger. But something that cracked him open just enough for you to see inside.

“I didn’t know how to be both,” he said. “The guy trying to figure out who he is... and the guy who still carries you with him everywhere.”

The room felt so quiet now.

Just the two of you and everything unsaid slowly unraveling between the lines.

Jungkook exhaled, slow and deliberate, like the next words took everything in him to form.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything. For pulling away. For confusing you. For not being the friend you deserved. I know I can’t take it back, but…” He paused, eyes locking with yours. “Can you forgive me?”

The question hung in the air, still and fragile.

Your heart tightened painfully, but you carefully masked it, refusing to let it show. And damn, this was exactly what you’d feared. No matter how much you convinced yourself you could stand your ground, Jungkook’s vulnerability cut straight through you.

“Jungkook,” you said, voice quiet but unwavering, “you can’t just come back with two boxes of pizza, flash that smile, and ask for forgiveness like nothing happened.”

He flinched, just slightly. But he nodded. “I know. I get it.”

You sat up straighter, meeting him head-on. “You hurt me. You ignored me. You forgot my damn birthday. Like it didn't matter. Like I didn't."

Sure, missing a birthday isn’t the end of the world. People forget things all the time. But this was different. This was part of the childhood you and Jungkook shared. The small moments that built everything between you. A milestone marking another year of growing up, side by side.

So yeah, him missing your twenty-first birthday was a big deal. A fucking big deal. So screw him.

Jungkook's expression cracked. Just a flicker of guilt and recognition before he dropped his gaze. “You’re right,” he murmured.

“I’m not going to forgive you just like that. You have to earn it,” you said, voice soft but firm. “I’m not going to pretend the past few months didn’t happen. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t change.”

He looked at you again, and this time, something steadier lived behind his eyes. “Then let me try. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

You opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but he cut in gently.

“Maybe we can’t go back to the way things were. Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said, shoulders relaxing slightly. “But what if we start again? Still be friends, but… not like before. No pretending. No lies. Just… moving forward. Together. Making new memories that don’t feel so heavy.”

You stared at him, a swirl of emotions gathering just beneath the surface. There was still hurt. Still doubt. Still all the pieces of you he hadn’t shown up for.

But there was also the boy who used to know you better than anyone.

You took a breath. “If we’re going to be friends again. It has to be honest. And I’m not going to carry it all alone anymore.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t smug. It was grateful.

“Then I’ll be honest. And I’ll show up,” he said.

You nodded once, slowly. “Okay. We’ll see.”

He reached for another slice of pizza, eyes still flickering toward you, this time without guilt. Just quiet hope.

Outside, the sky had gotten darker, but the space between you and him… felt a little more open.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was the same night Jungkook and his parents were going next door for dinner with your family. But Jungkook lay sprawled on his unmade bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other holding his phone above him, the dim light casting soft shadows on the ceiling.

The group chat was muted, but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances. The flood of messages was exactly what he expected:

Taehyung: yo you guys should check out nayeon's thirst trap on insta Hoseok: fuck i saw that aye. she's gorgeous or should i say... jugs are gorgeous hahaha Jin-hyung: anyone actually studying? lmao Yoongi: let’s get lit next week. I need to black out or drop out. either’s fine at this point. Taehyung: jungkookie, u alive or what? u been ghostin us harder than my dad Namjoon: bet’s still a go right? or did golden boy catch feelings

He locked his phone then, jaw clenched, face blank. He hated that it still got to him. The way they talked about you like you were just another game. And worse, that he hadn’t shut it down from the start. He could still hear your voice in the car after the kiss. “You don’t get to do that.” Like you’d finally seen right through him.

He tossed the phone aside with a groan, covering his face. His chest felt tight ever since that night. Guilty, restless, like no distraction could quiet the ache. And the worst part? The loud music and laughter you’d been hearing through your bedroom wall? That was on purpose.

He turned the volume up knowing you could hear it. Let the bass rattle the silence between you. It was stupid. Immature. But if he couldn’t say what he felt, maybe he could make enough noise to hide from it.

Or maybe, he was hoping you'd hear it and care.

Then a soft buzz.

One new message. Not from the group. But from Jimin.

[Jimin]: yo. u good? been quiet. just checking in. lmk if u need anything

Jungkook stared at it. Didn’t open it. Didn’t reply. But he didn’t look away either.

Then the phone lit up again. Jimin was calling.

One ring. Two. Three.

With a sigh, Jungkook dragged the phone to his ear, answering without a word.

“Bro,” Jimin’s voice came through. It sounded tired but kind. “You gonna keep ghosting me too or what?”

The silence stretched.

“How’s your break going?” Jimin tried again, softer now, like he wasn’t sure how much to push. “I just wanna know if you’re okay. I know when you go quiet, it’s not nothing.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, knuckles brushing his temple. He let out a breath that barely passed as a response. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to go through with the bet, you know,” Jimin said gently. “You know how the guys are. Especially Namjoon and Hoseok... they talk big but half the time they're just trying to get under your skin.”

Jungkook scoffed quietly, exhaling through his nose. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

Jimin paused. That answer didn’t sit right.

“Yeah,” he said carefully, “but I know you.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.

“You’re reckless, sure,” Jimin went on, tone lighter but still firm. “You pick fights. You party too hard. You kiss girls you shouldn’t sometimes. But you’re not… cruel, Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.

Jimin’s voice dipped lower, more hesitant. “You wouldn’t hurt her just to win something stupid. Not Y/n.”

No answer.

That silence said more than denial ever could.

Jimin let it hang a moment before pressing on. “I’m not saying you have to confess or blow it all up or whatever. But don’t sit there like none of it matters. I saw your face that night. You shut the whole table down when the guys joked about her. Hell, you wouldn’t even let Hoseok shoot his shot.”

That struck. Hard.

Jungkook sat up abruptly, elbows digging into his knees, palm dragging down his face. The pressure behind his eyes was dull but relentless.

“Then what does that say about you, huh?” he asked, voice rough, words coming out before he could stop them.

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“If you know I’m not like that... If you see that, then why’d you bring me around them in the first place?” Jungkook’s voice wasn’t angry, but there was weight behind it. “And why are you still hanging around like it’s all fine? Why are they even your friends, Jimin?”

He paused, words tightening in his throat before spilling out softer, but no less pointed. “Come to think of it… I’ve never even seen you act like them. Not once.”

There was a pause on the other end. Jimin didn’t answer right away.

“They’re my brothers,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “I grew up with most of them. High school, dorms, hell, and Namjoon... he's practically like an older brother to me.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. “So what, that means you just look the other way?”

“No,” Jimin replied, more firmly now. “I pick my battles. I speak up when it matters. Like right now.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I know they joke like it’s all just for fun. But I also know when something’s eating at you,” Jimin continued. “And this? Whatever it is… it’s getting to you.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because Jimin already knew.

“You care about her,” Jimin said softly. “You can lie to them, but you don’t have to lie to me.”

Jungkook stared at the floor, fingers curling around the edge of his hoodie.

He wanted to argue. To deny. To shut it all down.

But he didn’t.

Because for the first time in days, someone wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t treating it like a bet.

Someone actually saw him.

And that, somehow, made everything harder to ignore.

“Look, man,” Jimin said, voice steady, “you’re lucky to have a best friend like Y/n. A childhood friend, someone who knows you inside and out, sees past the noise. Not everyone gets that. Most people don’t get it at all.”

There was a pause, heavy but sincere.

“Whatever you do… don’t fuck it up. You’re the one who gets to choose what kind of person you want to be. Don’t lose her and don’t lose yourself.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, the words sinking deep.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Jimin added quietly. “You already know how I feel. You care about her. You always have, even when you were trying not to. That’s obvious.”

Jungkook stared at the phone like it might answer for him.

“But this is your choice, Jungkook,” Jimin said firmly. “No one else’s. Not mine. Not Namjoon’s. Not the group. Just yours.”

Jungkook’s chest ached less than before. This was what he needed to hear. Not to fix him, not to judge him, but to remind him he still had time.

Time to choose.

Between his pride… and you.

Jungkook helped clear the coffee table, stacking empty glasses and gathering the stray napkins left behind. He didn’t say much, just moved with a quiet ease. Like this wasn’t the first time in a long time that it was just the two of you again. He took the pizza boxes out to the bin, brushing past you with a faint “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, you were already curled up on one side of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, your phone resting idly in your hand. Jungkook dropped down on the opposite end, leaving a respectable space between you both. Comfortable, but cautious.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you, “how’s uni going? Still dying over those research papers?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve got one due next week, and my brain just isn’t braining.”

He smiled, the kind that softened the sharp edges of him. “What’s it on?”

“Marketing psychology. How consumer behaviour’s influenced by social proof. It’s interesting but I don’t know... something about the angle I’m taking just feels off.”

Jungkook leaned back slightly, arm resting along the back of the couch. “You want help with it?”

You glanced at him. “You don't take marketing. And there’s no need... I’ve got it.”

“But I want to,” he replied, voice gentle but steady. “If you’re stuck, I could at least look over your outline or something.”

You met his eyes, something wary curling in your chest. “Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother,” he said, a bit more firmly this time. “Come on. Just let me help, even if I don't take marketing or may not understand, but who knows.”

You looked at him for a beat, reading the sincerity in his face, the way his expression held no trace of obligation. Just that quiet insistence of someone who still knew you too well.

“…Okay,” you said finally, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, satisfied smile.

You stood from the couch, stretching slightly before turning on your heel and heading toward the stairs without saying much.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you, his brows knitting in quiet confusion. “Wait... where are you going?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, one foot already on the bottom step. “To study,” you said, your voice steady but edged with something unreadable. “You said you’d help, didn’t you? Or was that just you being nice?”

There was a flicker in his expression. Something between surprise and amusement. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees before rising to his feet. “No, I meant it,” he said, his tone softer now.

You gave a small nod and turned, continuing up the stairs. He followed, the air between you both still thick. But there was something else there too... familiarity settling back in like muscle memory.

By the time you reached your room and flicked the light on, it wasn’t comfortable, not quite. But it wasn’t awkward anymore either. Just two people figuring out how to be in the same space again, quietly navigating the in-between.

Jungkook stood silently at the doorway, taking in the familiar warmth of your room. Through your window, he caught a faint glimpse of his own bedroom across the way. A subtle reminder of how intertwined your lives are or had been. Your childhood space looked nearly the same. The same soft-toned walls, the same bookshelf stacked with stories and secrets. But now, your desk was cluttered with scattered uni papers and an overworked laptop plastered with half-faded stickers. A remnants of a different kind of growing up. A few bags lay by the door, clothes and things for had brought with you for the semester break. Everything around him felt like a snapshot of your life. The past, present, real, and lived-in.

And just like that, Jungkook was in your world again. The air held a kind of intimacy. This was the room where you once let him see you for the first time. Not just in the way of laughter and childhood secrets, but in the way skin met skin, and silence meant more than words. Where childhood faded into something tender and complicated. Where secrets were whispered under the covers and teenage hearts beat just a little too fast.

Where the lights were dim, breaths uneven, and everything change. Even if no one dared to say it out loud.

His eyes drifted across your shelves, and then, they landed on something small and familiar tucked behind a candle and a pen holder. It was a worn photobooth strip. He reached for it without thinking, gently sliding it out.

It was the two of you. About twelve years old, grinning wide with chocolate-stained mouths, hair windblown from the amusement park rides. One frame was blurry, the second was of you flashing peace signs, and the last… he remembered it clearly. You were hugging him, both of you laughing so hard your faces were scrunched up.

That day, you’d gotten separated from your parents for nearly an hour. Maybe they were distracted, or maybe Jungkook had just wandered off like the curious kid he was. And you, naturally, had followed. You were panicked, teary-eyed, and scared, but he’d held your hand the entire time until the staff found your parents.

You didn’t let go of his hand for the whole car ride home.

He held the photo up, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

You looked up and instantly tensed. Without a word, you reached out and snatched it from his hands, shoving it back onto the shelf, half-buried again.

“I’m surprised I do,” you muttered under your breath. “Should’ve thrown it out a long time ago.”

The words hit harder than you intended, and you saw it in the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, the light in his eyes dimming just slightly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, the softness gone from his voice now. “Don’t act like it meant nothing.”

You didn’t respond right away. The silence pressed in thick, almost suffocating.

“I’m not saying it meant nothing,” you said finally, your voice tight. “I’m saying I don’t know what it means anymore.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment. Not just looking but searching. For understanding, for something to hold onto. But whatever he was hoping to find wasn’t there. Not yet. You letting him up into you room. Your space. This was good.

He looked at the photo, now half-buried on the shelf like a memory you weren’t ready to hold, then back at you. And in that quiet second, something settled in him. An unspoken reckoning.

Stop digging through the ashes, he told himself. Start planting something different.

If he wanted to be in your life again. It couldn’t be through nostalgia or guilt. It couldn’t be about reaching into the past and hoping you'd meet him there. You deserved more than that.

He took a slow breath, grounding himself.

If he wanted a place beside you now, he had to earn it. Patiently. Genuinely. Not with apologies or half-measures, but with presence. With consistency. By showing up for the version of you that stood here today, not the one he left behind.

No shortcuts. No rewinds.

Just small steps forward, steady and sure

Now, he looked at you and saw not the girl he once knew, but a woman. Radiant, grounded, quietly strong. A grown version of Y/n he’d been lucky enough to grow up alongside. But the thought hit him. Could you say the same about him?

Was he someone worth growing up with?

Fuck no, he thought bitterly. He wasn’t the same. Neither of you were, but while you had evolved, found direction, he had become someone else entirely. An ego-driven, impulsive mess. Caught up in his own pride, his own shit choices. Maybe it wasn’t the crowd around him, maybe it wasn’t even the noise of growing up. Maybe the problem was just… him.

Then your voice cut through his spiral, grounding him like it always did.

You pulled out the chair at your desk, flipping open your laptop and motioning toward the mess of half-scribbled notes and open tabs.

“Okay, genius,” you muttered, not even sparing him a glance, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle as he closed the door halfway and pull a small cushion pink extra chair you had. Jungkook sat down beside you, his shoulder a safe distance from yours, close enough to feel his presence but not so close that it crossed any lines. He glanced at the screen, then at the scattered notes, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh.

“So this is your outline?” he asked, reaching for one of the pages. His voice was neutral and careful, like he didn’t want to disrupt whatever fragile comfort had settled between you both.

You nodded, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m trying to build a case around how social proof affects buyer confidence, but it’s feeling kind of flat. Like I’m stating the obvious, you know?”

He scanned the page in silence, eyes moving quickly as he took in your scribbles and bullet points. “I mean… you’ve got the structure down. Maybe it just needs a stronger hook. Something a little more personal to tie it together?”

You glanced at him. “Like an anecdote?”

“Exactly. Something relatable. I know that you always had a way of making theory feel… grounded.”

You looked away at that, eyes flickering toward your laptop as you tried not to react to the unexpected compliment. The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… present.

“Okay,” you murmured, tapping the trackpad. “So say I talk about online reviews. That moment when you’re about to buy something but you hesitate until you see a five-star review from a stranger.”

Jungkook leaned in slightly, nodding. “Yeah. Or even something simple. Like going to a new restaurant just because it’s always full. That’s social proof too.”

You clicked your tongue, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Okay that's a good one, I'll put that down."

Time passed quietly.

It was just focused, steady, full of pencil scratches, keyboard clicks, and the occasional back-and-forth about your topic. You didn’t expect it to go this well. As for Jungkook, for all his cockiness and unpredictability had a mind that knew how to connect dots. How to pull abstract ideas into something clear and grounded. His insight was sharp, his perspective surprisingly thoughtful. He asked questions that made you pause, reframe, rethink.

You found yourself in awe because this is someone who majors in film, not marketing. He had no formal background in this, but still he somehow saw things you didn't. At one point, you caught yourself just watching him. Focused. Leaning over your screen, fingers tapping against his lip as he read through your points.

Something fluttered in your chest. A dull ache... and the occasional butterfly in your stomach you tried to ignore. Because this wasn’t supposed to feel like anything. You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But it was hard not to, sitting here beside him like this. Close but not touching, breathing the same air, working in quiet sync like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook, had never really left... that he’d been here all along.

By the time you closed your laptop with a soft sigh of relief, the clock on your bedside table blinked 8:03 PM. Outside, the moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow across your room. You rubbed your temples and leaned back in your chair, shoulders aching but heart lighter than it had been all week.

“Well,” you murmured, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “I guess I owe you one.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back on his hands. “Guess you do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, too late,” he grinned, and for a second, it felt like he was still the boy who used to copy your homework just to spend more time with you.

You stared at him a beat too long before looking away, standing to stretch your legs. You could feel his eyes on you, still soft, still searching.

The truth was, you wanted to believe that this version of Jungkook, the one who was helpful, present, almost gentle, was the real one. Or at least the one that was here to stay.

But somewhere deep inside, a small, persistent voice echoed. Maybe it was Hana's again. Be careful.

And you weren’t sure why. Or maybe you were. Maybe it was the history. The familiarity. The patterns. The way he could pull you in with a look, a joke, a memory. Only to vanish behind that familiar wall of ego once university resumed. To slip back into the embrace of his crowd, the endless parties, the hollow validation he breathed in like oxygen.

You didn’t want to feed into it. You didn’t want to be the girl who got too hopeful, too soon.

So instead, you leaned against your desk and crossed your arms casually, tossing him a smirk that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, don’t expect a thank-you parade or anything. I’ll mention you in the footnotes, maybe. Small font.”

Jungkook chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair, but something in his expression faltered. Like he could feel the distance you were keeping. Like he knew exactly what you were doing and maybe even why.

Still, he didn’t push.

And neither did you.

Because this version of things was safe. And that little voice inside your head wasn’t wrong to be cautious. After all, once you were back at uni, who’s to say he wouldn’t go right back to being that guy? The jock with the smirk and the swagger, the one who always left you second-guessing where you stood.

So you tucked that voice away, but not too deep.

Just far enough to enjoy this moment without breaking your own heart over it.

Jungkook shifted slightly in the chair, the silence between you both stretching.

“So…” he began, voice a little softer now.

“Would you maybe be keen to help me with my film theory paper sometime?”

You turned to glance at him, one brow raised.

“I figured since I just saved your grade, maybe you could return the favour,” he added quickly, eyes flicking to yours with a cautious smile. “Or… if not that, maybe you’d want to see what I’ve been working on? Just... I don’t know. No pressure.”

It caught you off guard. Not just the request, but the vulnerability tucked behind it. As if he didn’t just want your help. As if he wanted to show you something. A piece of his world. Let you in.

But before the words could leave your mouth. The front door opened downstairs, followed by the familiar sound of your mum’s voice calling out, “Y/n? We’re home!”

You blinked, straightening. “Oh! mum and dad are back,” you said, glancing toward the doorway as you rose from your seat.

Jungkook nodded and stood too, slower this time, brushing his hands down the front of his pants.

You followed the familiar voices into the kitchen, Jungkook just behind you. Your mum was unpacking a small tote bag while your dad sorted through takeaway containers on the bench.

“How was comedy night?” you asked, leaning casually against the wall, trying not to look like your heart had been racing a little ever since you stepped downstairs.

Your mum looked up with a grin. “Hilarious. Honestly, I haven't laughed that hard in ages.”

“Except when you tripped on the steps during intermission,” your dad added with a chuckle.

“Oh, hush!” she swatted at him playfully before turning to Jungkook. “Your mum, by the way, had the best time. I swear she was wiping tears the entire show.”

Jungkook’s smile widened. “Sounds like her. She would’ve been in her element. She’s got the loudest laugh in any room.”

Your mum nodded, pointing a finger at him. “Oh, she did! And honestly? I think she laughed way more tonight than she ever has at your dad’s jokes.”

Everyone laughed at that. Even your dad, who threw his hands up in faux surrender. “Brutal.”

You found yourself watching Jungkook again. The way he blended so effortlessly into your home, your family.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth chatter about the show, the parking, your mum’s snack hoarding. Jungkook shifted his weight and cleared his throat gently.

“I should probably head back,” he said, glancing at the time on the microwave. "Really enjoyed tonight." Jungkook says more to you.

Your parents both waved him off warmly.

“Alright son.” your dad said.

“Thanks again Jungkook” your mum added.

Jungkook smiled and looked at you, eyes warm. “Bye, Y/n,” he said, then paused just a second longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Tomorrow?”

He raised a brow, amused. “Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party? The errands? Your mum said you and I are in charge of the list.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. Your mum had mentioned that to you today.

“Oh... yeah,” you nodded quickly, recovering. “Of course. Tomorrow."

Jungkook gave you a crooked grin at your awkwardness before bending down to put his shoes back on near the front door. Your parents had wandered off to the living room by then, leaving just the two of you again.

He opened the front door, stepping one foot onto the porch. Then suddenly stopped as you called out, “Wait!”

You stepped forward, reaching for his arm without thinking. Your fingers curled around his sleeve, stopping him in place.

He turned back slowly, eyes searching yours, and you knew he could feel it. The heat rising off your skin, the way your touch lingered, hesitant and unsure. The night air felt cooler in contrast to the warmth pulsing between your hand and his arm.

He didn’t speak. Just waited patiently.

“I’ll help you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“With the film theory stuff,” you clarified, eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “I’ll help.”

A flicker of something soft passed through his expression. Jungkook gave you a quiet nod, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, voice lower now. “Really.”

You let go of his sleeve slowly.

“Good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he stepped off the porch and into the quiet evening, hands in his pockets, smile still lingering, and you stood there for a moment longer, the imprint of his presence still pressed into the air around you.

You walked back inside slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The house was calm now, your parents now probably in their room, calling it a night.

You headed upstairs, your room exactly as you left it. Laptop open, notes scattered, that damn photobooth strip still half-tucked behind the candle. You paused in front of it, chewing your bottom lip before slowly pulling it out again. The faces in the photo smiled up at you, frozen in a moment that felt both impossibly far and painfully close.

You sighed.

You wanted to believe in second chances. You really did.

But as you set the photo down again. Not hiding it this time, just letting it sit there, exposed. And just as you were about to step away from your desk, your phone suddenly buzzed.

This time, the message preview made your stomach drop and flutter.

[Jungkook]: You should probably close your curtains unless you actually want me to see you

You froze mid-step, eyes widening. Slowly, instinctively, you glanced toward your window. And sure enough, across the way, Jungkook was standing at his bedroom window, phone in hand, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He gave a small wave, smug and warm, the kind that screamed gotcha.

You rolled your eyes, flustered but smiling despite yourself. Your fingers hovered over your screen before you started typing back.

[You]: Goodnight, creep.

You hit send and watched as he read it almost immediately. He didn’t reply back but you caught his slight nod through the glass before he pulled his curtains closed.

You drew your own curtains shut slowly, the quiet click echoing in the room. The tension lingered, heavy and unresolved but somehow, it was exactly where it needed to be.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was a Friday night when Jungkook invited you to meet some of the guys he'd been out with more lately. From your knowledge and from what Jungkook had mentioned to you. Two of them also major in film and the others from either Hospitality Management, Communications, Health Science and Performing Arts. Over time, Jungkook had gradually made his way into the frat scene. He started hanging out and studying with them more often, eventually moving into a shared house just off campus. The kind of place where every surface felt a little sticky and the music never really stopped, even on weeknights.

You had hesitated.

This wasn’t your scene. And more than that, these weren’t your people. You knew it the second Jungkook described them with that offhand, casual tone. Like he was trying not to sound like he cared too much about fitting in with them. Like maybe he already did.

But still, you went. Because he asked. Because part of you wanted to understand this new world he was drifting toward. The one that seemed to pull him further away from you each week.

When you arrived, the place was buzzing. Music thumped through the walls, people you didn’t recognize moved in and out of rooms like currents, red solo cups in hand, someone shouting over a beer pong table in the back. It was far from the quiet hangouts you were used to with Jungkook. This wasn’t his bedroom, or your porch swing, or even his car with the windows down and some soft R&B playing. This was his world now, or at least the one he chose to show you tonight.

Jungkook led you in, hand briefly brushing yours. Not enough to hold, but enough to steady you. Like old times.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “They’re chill.”

You gave a tight nod, trying to suppress the rising awkwardness as he brought you to the group sprawled across the couches.

“Yo,” Jungkook called out. “This is her. My good friend, Y/n.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between you and the guys. “We’ve known each other forever.”

A scattered chorus of hellos followed, laced with low chuckles and exchanged glances. You noticed Namjoon eyeing you with mild curiosity before lifting his drink in a lazy toast.

Jin, already tipsy, leaned forward with a lopsided grin. “This Kook’s girl? Damn, no wonder he dips early sometimes. She’s cute.”

Jungkook laughed it off, shaking his head. “She’s like my little sister. Practically family.”

Your stomach turned a little. Little sister wasn’t the label you expected or wanted. But you kept your smile in place, even as your chest tightened.

Then came him. Hoseok, all charm and mischief, sauntering in from the kitchen with a beer in hand and an easy smile stretched across his face.

“Ah,” he said, eyes landing on you like he’d just discovered something interesting. “So this is the famous Y/n”

“Famous?” you echoed, unsure.

Jungkook chuckled nervously. “They’ve just heard me mention you, that’s all.”

Throughout the night, you stuck close to Jungkook’s side as he navigated through the crowd, stopping now and then to introduce you. And then you met Jimin.

You’d only heard a little about Jimin from Jungkook.

Jungkook had mentioned him offhandedly. Just a guy he met at a club event, someone who quickly became part of his inner circle. He didn’t say much beyond “Jimin’s cool. We just clicked, I guess.” But the way Jungkook spoke about him, with an ease he rarely used for new people, made you curious. You were happy for him. Genuinely. Especially knowing how selective he could be about who he let close. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. This was Jungkook now. Frat mode activated, surrounded by a crew of wildly different personalities, and somehow fitting right in.

Jimin was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, radiating warmth with that easy smile of his. When Jungkook introduced you. “Yo Jimin, this is Y/n."

You noticed the flicker in Jimin’s eyes. He stepped forward, offering his hand with that easy charm. “Hey, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin."

You blinked, a little thrown by how warm he seemed, and how intently he was looking at you. “Yeah… I’ve heard some things about you.”

His smile tugged wider, just bordering on playful. “Good things, right?”

You shrugged, half-teasing. “Guess that depends on who’s telling the story.”

Jungkook let out a short laugh beside you, rubbing the back of his neck again like he always did when things edged toward awkward or interesting.

Jimin laughed, stepping closer. "And same here, Jungkook talks about you all the time."

“Really? like what?” you asked, curious.

He grinned. “I'll say it's confidential. But don't worry Jungkook speaks of good things."

You laughed, a little flustered. “I hope he does.”

Just then, Jungkook leaned toward you, gently touching your arm. “I’ll be right back. Just gotta take care of something upstairs,” he said, nodding in that direction.

You hesitated, unsure whether you really wanted to be left alone in a room full of mostly strangers. But before you could say anything, Jimin caught the shift in your expression.

“I got you,” he said easily. “Promise. You won’t even notice he’s gone.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel just a little more at ease.

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook said, giving Jimin a quick nod before moving his way past people and heading upstairs.

With him gone, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Less pressure, more ease. Jimin had a way of pulling you into conversation so naturally that before long, the awkwardness faded. The vibe turned playful, the exchange of words coming without effort. Still, your mind drifted now and then, eyes flicking toward the stairs to check if Jungkook was coming back.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself relaxing. Jimin was good company. Surprisingly so.

“A myth?” you echoed, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, eyes playful. “Like this mysterious best friend he’s known forever who ‘just gets him’ and ‘knows too much.’ Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were real or a ghost from his past.”

You smirked. “I guess I’m real enough.”

He offered you a drink, which you politely declined, and then leaned against the counter beside you, still clearly intrigued.

“So… childhood best friends, huh? That’s wild. How far back are we talking?”

You smiled. “Since babies. Our moms were friends before we were even born. We kind of… grew up side by side.”

Jimin let out a soft, impressed whistle. “Damn. That’s something else.”

“It is,” you nodded, your voice a little softer now. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jimin turned slightly to face you, genuinely curious. “That kind of connection… I love that. Someone who just knows you. Your moods, your weird habits, your history. That kind of constant. It’s rare.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “You never had that growing up?”

He shook his head. “Moved around too much. Friends came and went. Made great ones, sure but nothing that stuck like that. Nothing… unconditional.”

The air between you settled into something quieter, more thoughtful. You felt him watching you, not in a way that made you uncomfortable, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“You and Jungkook ever…?” he started, then hesitated.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ever what?”

He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s probably nosy. I just... Jungkook’s talked about you like you’re this constant in his life. I was just curious.”

You glanced across the room, where Jungkook stood talking to someone, though his eyes occasionally flicked over to you.

“It’s complicated,” you said finally. “We’ve always been close. But I don't ever picture going further with him. We are like family." You lied, well partly lied.

Jimin nodded slowly, taking that in. “That makes sense. Still… it must be hard. Being so close to someone for so long and never really knowing what could’ve been.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t have to.

He saw the answer in your eyes.

Before he could say more, Jungkook reappeared at your side, arm brushing yours as he leaned in. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just talking.”

Jimin gave Jungkook a friendly smile. “She’s great, man. You didn’t tell me your best friend was this interesting.”

Jungkook gave a small smirk, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. “She’s a lot of things.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a warning. Maybe both.

And just like that, the quiet moment with Jimin dissolved back into the noise of the party. But something had changed. You could feel it. For Jimin, maybe it was finally being able to put a name and a story, to the girl behind all the mentions. And for you, it was a flicker of something unexpected.

And for Jungkook… well, maybe noticing Jimin’s attention, leaned down to you and asked, “Wanna go upstairs? I wanna show you my room.”

You gave Jimin a small smile and excused yourself, following Jungkook up the stairs with a curious kind of comfort tugging at your chest.

His door was slightly ajar when you reached it, and you hesitated for just a second before pushing it open.

This was probably what he’d been doing up here. Tidying up. Resetting the space a little. The faint scent of clean linen lingered in the air, and the trash bin was newly empty. His bed was made, sheets pulled tight like it was something he rarely did but felt like doing tonight, just because you were here.

His room wasn’t anything special, it very him. But it was quiet, familiar in its own way, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were back in your own little world again.

It stopped you at the door.

The lighting was soft, almost dreamy. Purple LED strips lined the top shelf and cast a glow over the whole space, painting everything in a wash of calm lavender. It made the white of his plain tee look crisper. The corners of the room felt tucked away from the world, safe.

The bed was low and made, with dark sheets and a single hoodie draped over the back of his chair. A tangle of earbuds peeked from beneath a pillow. And on the wall above the headboard, LED stars were pinned like constellations. A little soft. A little romantic. Like him. And it felt strangely intimate to be standing in the middle of it.

Your eyes drifted to the shelf beside his desk, where the purple LED glow softly illuminated a small, silver picture frame. It was tilted slightly, like it had been picked up and put back down more than once. You stepped closer.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook. Years ago. The two of you maybe thirteen, maybe even younger. You were both barefoot in the grass, sun in your eyes, your arm slung lazily around his shoulders, his grin wide and boyish, two teeth slightly crooked before braces straightened them out. Your head was tilted toward him, like gravity had always pulled you in that direction.

You stared at it.

And suddenly, the quiet in the room felt heavier. Not peaceful. Not warm.

Just quiet.

Because when was the last time you felt like that with him? Like his gravity hadn’t faltered? When was the last time he laughed with you like you were still the most familiar part of his day?

You didn’t notice he’d moved until he was right beside you, gaze locked not on the photo, but on your expression.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You didn’t answer. Just stepped back slightly, arms crossed loosely over your chest. The weight of the past few weeks. Him not showing up, his dry one-word replies, settled between you like fog.

He saw it now. You watched him realize it.

Jungkook reached out slowly and took your hand.

You blinked, startled at the sudden gentleness.

“Come here,” he murmured.

He led you to the edge of his bed and sat down with you, his fingers still wrapped loosely around yours. You didn’t pull away. You just… waited.

He exhaled hard through his nose, staring down at your intertwined hands like they were something breakable.

“I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. “For the past few weeks. For being distant. For leaving you on seen. For acting like I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

You didn’t say anything, and it made him press on.

“I didn’t mean to disappear. I just... I don’t know. Everything’s been moving so fast lately. New people. New expectations. And I guess I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought I could juggle it all. I thought maybe you didn’t need me the way you used to.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

And he looked lost in the kind of way only someone you’ve known your whole life could look.

“That’s the thing, Jungkook,” you said quietly.

He swallowed hard, thumb brushing against your knuckles like muscle memory.

“I miss you,” you said. "I just miss my best friend. I just needed you to show up.... I mean you could've communicated better."

Jungkook wanted to say that he misses you too. God, he did. But his throat felt tight, caught between regret and something unspoken that hung in the air like fog.

Instead, he just nodded, once. You both sat there, side by side on the edge of his bed, your hands still tangled loosely like old routines you didn’t know you missed until they came back.

For a moment, it felt okay again.

Not fixed.

But… okay.

That is, until the door burst open without warning.

“Yo!”

Loud laughter and heavy footsteps flooded in as Hoseok and Taehyung barged in, completely oblivious to the shift they’d just shattered.

“Damn, Kook!” Hoseok grinned, not even pretending to be apologetic as he flopped into Jungkook’s desk chair like it was his own. “Didn’t think you were bringing your girl up here already.”

Taehyung whistled low under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “We interrupting something?”

Jungkook shot them both a flat look, clearly not in the mood for their timing. “Can you not?”

But Hoseok just smirked, spinning slowly in the chair. “Relax, man. You could’ve just put a sock on the door or something.”

Taehyung grinned at you, a little sheepish. “Hey Y/n, hope you're enjoying the party so far.”

You offered a tight smile, trying to pretend your hand hadn’t just been in Jungkook’s. Slowly, you pulled it back into your lap.

Jungkook noticed.

And even through the interruption, the noise, the teasing. His eyes didn’t leave you.

Hoseok leaned back in Jungkook’s chair, arms behind his head like he was settling in for a show. “Anyway,” he said, smirking like he knew exactly what kind of moment he’d walked in on, “you two should come downstairs. Namjoon’s been pacing around like he’s hosting a TED Talk and no one’s listening.”

Taehyung laughed. “Yeah, he’s already asked where you were like… three times.”

Hoseok grinned wider, adding, “Don’t want to make him jealous now, Kook. You’ve got your favorite girl up here, and poor Joon’s left babysitting the beer pong table alone.”

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But endearing,” Hoseok said brightly.

“You wish.”

You tried to hide the smile tugging at your lips, but it was hard. The shift in mood was jarring, but maybe needed. You could still feel the weight of what had been said between you and Jungkook lingering like warmth in the air… but it didn’t feel like it had been erased. Just… shelved for now.

Taehyung tilted his head toward you. “You coming?”

You glanced at Jungkook, unsure if you should stay or give him space. But he caught your eye and gave you the smallest nod. Like he was saying Don’t go just yet. Not like that.

So you stood. Smoothed your hands over your jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Jungkook got up too, his hand brushing the small of your back for a second. So quick it could’ve been nothing, but you felt it anyway.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

The four of you filed out of the room, and as you reached the top of the stairs, Jungkook leaned a little closer, voice low, just for you.

“We’ll talk more later,” he said. “Promise.”

You looked at him, heart doing that familiar ache again.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And somehow… you believed him.

Eventually, all of you headed back downstairs. Jimin was nowhere to be found. But even in the chaos, being by Jungkook’s side again after days of him pulling away gave you a sliver of happiness. You tried to hold onto that.

The boys were all talking over each other. Namjoon throwing out a plan for Korean BBQ after class tomorrow, Taehyung already texting someone to reserve a table. Hoseok started talking about some girl he’d hooked up with last week, and the conversation veered toward crude jokes and casual bragging. You didn’t say much. You were starting to feel out of place.

That’s when you noticed it.

Jungkook, who, you’d say, normally thrived in this chaos, usually loud and quick with comebacks seemed… distant. His laugh was a second too late. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. And every now and then, you caught him staring off at nothing.

It was subtle. But you saw it. And it made your stomach stir.

And then Hoseok leaned over, voice just loud enough to cut through the din. “Yo, you mind if I get a pass?”

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“You know… with Y/n.” Hoseok jerked his chin toward you. “She’s hot. I’d fuck her.”

At first, you didn’t register it. The background noise blurred it out. But when you saw Hoseok’s eyes land on you, that smirk curling at the edges of his mouth, it hit you. The words slammed into your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.

And Jungkook?

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He just shrugged. “By all means.”

The group roared with laughter, the sound swallowing everything. But not for you. For you, time stopped.

You stood there, frozen.

What? you breathed, the word barely forming on your lips.

You turned to him, waiting desperately for something. A joke. A correction. An apology. A flicker of the person who just stood next to you upstairs, who said Promise.

But he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t even look at you.

And you… you were too stunned to speak. Too stunned to even fathom how fast he had switched up. How the boy who made his room feel like home moments ago could reduce you to a punchline like it meant nothing.

Like you meant nothing.

You didn’t want to scream or cause a scene, but the curse words spilled out faster than your mind could keep up with. Your chest burned and your throat tightened as you turned away, weaving through the crowd, desperate to hold back tears. You just needed to get out.

And just as you reached the door, weaving through strangers, a hand gently but firmly grabbed your arm.

It was Jimin.

He looked surprised at first, like he hadn’t expected to catch you leaving so soon. “Hey,” he said, a half-smile on his lips. “Already heading out?”

Then he saw your face. The smile dropped. “Hey… are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. Not at first. But eventually, you met his eyes, and he looked so concerned, so sincere, that you had to answer. “Yeah,” you lied. “Just getting late. I’ve got an early class.”

He didn’t believe you, you could tell. But he didn’t press. “It was nice finally meeting you,” he said softly.

“Likewise,” you murmured, your voice small.

You slipped out the door before the tears could break free, the cool night air hitting your face like a shock as you tried to steady your breathing. The ache in your chest was raw, threatening to spill over, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to move forward.

Behind you, Jimin made his way back to the group, slipping into the familiar chaos.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Taehyung grinned, slinging an arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “You missed Hoseok’s thirsty ass.”

Jimin raised a brow. “What happened?”

“Hobi thought Y/n was cute,” Taehyung snorted. “Asked if he could hit.”

“What?” Jimin blinked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung laughed harder, clearly buzzed. “Well Kook didn’t even care. Seems like he doesn’t really care for her as much as he says he does.”

Jimin’s smile didn’t return.

His gaze slid across the room until it landed on Jungkook, who was slouched deep into the couch like he wanted to disappear. One leg bouncing. Cup in hand. Not drinking. Not talking. Just... elsewhere.

Avoiding eye contact. With himself. With everyone.

Jimin watched him quietly, head tilting slightly.

He and Jungkook were just two years apart, but sometimes it felt like more. Still, somewhere along the way, maybe between club events or late-night cramming. He started thinking of Jungkook as someone solid. A little brother, who at time can be annoying, impulsive, big-hearted. But good.

And yet, even now, with all the noise and music, Jimin felt it. The faint flicker of envy. Because Jungkook had you. Had grown up with you. Someone by his side since childhood.

That kind of connection? That kind of loyalty?

The truth was, Jimin used to have that too. A long time ago.

He's never told anyone, not even the guys. But sometimes, late at night, he still remembered the sound of her laughter echoing in empty spaces, the way she used to loop her arm through his and call him her person. Her safe place.

You reminded him of her, in a strange, aching kind of way.

Same softness. Same fire. Same way of looking at the world like it owed her answers and she wasn’t afraid to demand them.

But where that story of his ended, left something hollow in its place. He never talks about it. Never says her name out loud anymore. Not since...

Jimin’s jaw clenched. He blinked hard.

“You idiot,” he muttered, eyes still on Jungkook.

He didn’t even know who he was talking to anymore. Jungkook. Himself. The universe.

Maybe all of them.

#bangtan #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts scan #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut

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thetrasha · 14 hours ago

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Hi Tasha! How are you? It's my first time requesting something im nervous husahauhsuahau

I'm here to ask for a request with the boys from One Piece (it can be whoever you want :) ) with an autistic reader. A slice of life fluff (?)?)?) well they're pirates, their life is quite chaotic), little moments where they deal with the struggles the reader has and overcome it in their own way (together). It can be just headcanons too, I don't mind! I'll appreciate anything you can offer, I really like your writing

Also I'm sorry about my english, I tried my best to be clear!

Hello anon ╰(*°▽°*)╯I'm fine... even if I'm being boiled alive in this wretched heat :((

Thank you so much for this request, it’s an honour to fulfil this one for you. Usually, I wouldn’t accept asks like that because I want everybody to feel like they can project themselves onto my works, but this is a bit of a self-indulgent passion project if you will. I saw this and knew I had to write it – I can relate because… guess what 🤡 Yeah…

So I’m sorry if my lived experiences don’t align with yours or anybody reading this.

Everybody’s burdens and strengths manifest in different ways… to make up for the fact that I cannot represent everybody since I’ve been shaped by my own impressions and biases, I’ve chosen a variety of symptoms and comorbidities to make up for that. And btw thanks for letting me choose the characters!!

I really hope you like this one. And your English is great, don’t worry 🫂(●'◡'●)

PS. This will be the only request of its kind I will accept. Thanks for reading! But we’re back to business as usual after this :D

PPS. This also won't be featured in my masterlist to discourage requests that resemble it.

One Piece with an Autistic Reader

feat. LUFFY, ZORO, SANJI, FRANKY, MIHAWK

LUFFY

You struggle with… extreme trust issues.

Interpersonal relationships meant something to you. You wanted and needed friends who would understand you wordlessly, who would be there when you needed them the most – people who genuinely cared. You wanted to truly bond. That depth of care isn’t easily found within the general population. Modern life most often happens in the fast lane… where relationships are disposable and the next experience is just waiting for you. You cannot relate to that side of life at all.

You feel… alone in the middle of a crowd, unseen and forgotten. You watch other people’s friend groups with envy and bitterness, wishing such a thing for yourself. You don’t chase experiences, you just want someone who wouldn’t abandon you.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t believe Luffy when he wanted to recruit you. You couldn’t see your own shine and you thought he was just messing with you… promising the world before he’d grow aware of your strangeness and get rid of you, like all the others before him. When his crewmates talked about their life experience and how little they trusted Luffy in the beginning, you started getting… antsy. Restless. You began overthinking this thing.

So many people cannot be in on the same lie, can they? Someone would eventually cave and confess – until they didn’t. It just… it doesn’t make sense.

You try to push Luffy away from you, but he clings even closer. He actively tries to tear down your walls, even if they’re reinforced with years and years of struggle. Being with him… it’s actually pretty fun. He doesn’t listen much – only to the most important bits… but he’s there. Always. Always! So far, he’s trying so much harder than anybody else before him. He’s there at every waking moment, wanting to help you out and get you to agree to join his group of adventurers.

You don’t have to pretend you’re someone else when he’s near. He accepts you just as you are. It doesn’t matter to him.

It’s the first time you weren’t the one putting in actual effort into a relationship… Luffy was doing all the heavy lifting. He showed up, followed you even when you ignored him – what a useless protective mechanism – and talked to you as if you’d been friends for years already. You didn’t have to earn his trust, it was just there for the taking.

Just before you’re ready to take the plunge and go along with his antics, he’d formally introduce you to his crew… as one of their own.

He’s always viewed you as one of them, you’d suddenly realise.

It... makes you want to cry.

ZORO

You struggle with… feeling like you didn’t accomplish anything.

Zoro is hard to make sense of for you. He’s… kind, in his own ways, but since he doesn’t talk much, you struggle to read him. He’s also just… an intimidating guy – physically and spiritually. Strangers respect him because of his nature, even if he’s just… Zoro to you. You don’t think you need to be scared of him, but you have started walking around on eggshells when he’s nearby. He’s always napping somewhere when he’s not with you… and you don’t want him to perceive you when you try to master your own ambitions. Watching him makes you feel worse about yourself. Zoro is a successful man by any metric… he’s always had a natural talent for swordsmanship and refined it through hard work and steeling his mind, he’s so confident and always shoots for the stars, knowing that he’ll get there eventually. He doesn’t doubt himself, it’s in his instincts to be the best there is.

You cannot claim the same for yourself. You excel in certain niches, but you’re… not as crucial of a member as Zoro is. He’s kind of the backbone of this crew.

You feel small in comparison to him, insignificant even.

Of course he notices. It’s Zoro! He’s not as dense as he seems. He’s frighteningly perceptive and observes everyone silently.

So what does he do? Nothing at first.

He believes in your independence and knows you’re smarter than him, this is just some inexplicable poison corrupting your mind.

When you can’t free yourself from your own insecurity, he starts seeking you out, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Zoro cares about you – maybe more than you realise. He’s glad to have you on this crew, you accept him as he is and you have an unspoken 'friendship' blossoming between you two. Why he’s so affected by you being so distant – he doesn’t know, but he can guess pretty easily… So he started breaching your personal space. There he was, standing beside you once more, looking at you with his unreadable expressions… but then he speaks. Zoro started talking about… his feelings.

What has happened? “I wish we’d spend more time together… like we used to.”, he’d grumble with pink cheeks.

And you could just stand there in shock. Zoro… wanted, no, needed you around? He… liked spending time with you? You’d ask him whether you weren’t too weak for him, ready to feed your soul with more negativity.

Yet all he does is honestly tell you that he believes you’re meant for greatness, that he thinks you’re better than him – he’s always thought highly of you and acknowledged your skills. He’s always been watching you, so of course he’s able to recall moments when you had to save the day.

Zoro doesn’t think you’re less than at all, he reminds you that you’ve always gone above and beyond.

Society's conditioned you into feeling like a failure for not fitting into a mould like he does, but he has a different way of measuring success. You don't have to fulfil expectations, you just have to try your best and hold your head high while doing so.

He's proud of you - and he views you as his equal.

SANJI

You struggle with… being a picky eater.

Certain tastes and texture just make you resent the food you’re eating. It suddenly turns pleasure into anguish.

At the same time, you feel like you cannot reveal these things about you, because Sanji already uses the best ingredients for your meals, just to make sure it’s especially nutritious. And because he likes you the most, secretly.

You appreciate his thoughtful gestures every time, but the fact that certain foods touch each other on your plate makes you inexplicably mad. You try your hardest to hide it from him – Sanji knows what starvation is like, for God’s sake. You’re disrespecting him by being the way you are!

But he’s already picked up on your unusual habits; he subtly watches everyone when they eat and derives a lot of happiness from seeing their faces light up – it validates his pride in cooking – but your eyes are dull, almost pained sometimes. You… cannot enjoy anything.

Sanji also doesn’t want to embarrass you for your preferences, which is why he doesn’t initially ask you about it bluntly. He’s caught glimpses of the way you’ve been socialised and doesn’t want to reignite bad memories for you, so he… just tests different things to try and accommodate you.

And he starts applying these things to everyone just to make you feel included. He’d never single you out.

You seemed a lot happier a few days ago, when he started separating the veggies from the rice and handed everything out on different plates. Nobody even bat an eye at the new way of assorting his dishes, not even you. It makes your dearest chef smile. That’s how he slowly started probing for your likes and dislikes. You suddenly even felt way more comfortable expressing yourself. Maybe you hated bitter tastes, maybe you just really disliked sour foods, maybe you were sensitive to salt – he doesn’t know, but he subtly tries to figure you out by baking zesty, sour rhubarb into a sweet cake instead of a savoury meal… and he noticed that you liked it all of the sudden. You even smiled at him while you stuffed your cheeks.

Sanji absolutely had to pause to deal with his oncoming cardiac arrest. He’s never felt pride like this… people usually liked his cooking, but knowing that someone who’s probably never got to enjoy certain foods love his meals just hit different. It squeezed his heart painfully tight.

You’d never have to feel bad about yourself around him. He would try to make things right either way, but soon you’d gain the courage to tell him about your habits yourself, making him melt on the spot.

He’s the first person who took your strange tastes seriously.

FRANKY

You struggle with… noises.

It would sound crazy if you asked Franky whether he could hear the out-of-sync gears turning within him, you thought quietly. You could even hear fluorescent light because its crackles and sharp hisses annoyed you – so every time you heard a minor squeak coming from inside his chest, you cringed at your rudeness.

You liked Franky, he was an amazing guy, funny without even trying, charismatic, empathetic and he always offered words of encouragement. You actually thought you clicked best with Franky. He was… unconventional like you and made sure you knew that you were fine just the way you were. You were pretty much inseparable. He made you feel confident since he didn’t care about social rules despite very much understanding them and made you feel secure in expressing yourself however you liked. Franky always hyped you up from the sidelines and, if the mood allowed it, provided the intellectually challenging conversations you needed to thrive.

He was naturally complex like that – you adored him.

It’s just that every time he’d invite you to sit by his tinkering station, you were leaving with a massive headache. You felt burnt out just listening to his metal spinal plates scratch against one another… there were so many sounds getting processed in your brain that you had a hard time following the conversation. You often had to ask him to repeat himself, which he always did with a laugh and a cheeky remark.

But after a while, he notices a pattern. He doesn’t know what’s been causing you discomfort, but Franky’s an inventor. Of course he would try to make you something that would help you. At first, he believed that you had trouble with background noise and just had an insane auditory processing ability, which is why he installed panelling inside the walls of the common rooms to block sound waves echoing throughout the ship – and while it helped, you still showed some signs that you weren’t doing well around him.

Naturally, Franky would search for a different solution. Whether it’s as easy as handing you headphones or as difficult as restructuring the springs that replaced his joints, he’s trying it all.

And one day, you sit next to him, watching him put screws into one of his newest projects completely unrelated to you and you commented with wide eyes,

“You’re… silent. It’s quiet. Are you feeling okay?”

All he could do is laugh with pride, his chest pushed out before he struck his signature pose.

Truth be told, all he did was oil the old pistons that pumped cola and oil through his engineered heart – he started getting a clue after you once confessed in passing that you’d suspected a leak near the keel of the ship… and Franky notices these little things and puts them together all by himself.

You could hear everything – all the time.

Even a rhythmic stream of water passing through a crack in a plank at the bottom of the Sunny –

–and that’s when he realised that you could hear when something was awry with him, that it made you anxious. Well, you will never have to worry about that again! But… he’s grateful… so grateful for your care. Franky couldn’t ever go to Chopper for help because the doctor wasn’t equipped to deal with a pile of junk, but… you were, clearly.

MIHAWK

You struggle with… having nobody to talk to.

It was silly, really, to go to your greatest rival for small talk, especially when he was such a lone wolf who desired to be left alone, but despite your own drive towards independence, you wanted someone who would be willing to listen to you.

You’ve never been taken seriously – many people deem your ramblings childish, uninteresting or inappropriate, but Mihawk was a thoroughly serious man whose entire purpose was dipped in devotion. And he knew your worth as a fighter. You’d mastered your rapier, even if you would never be as good as he was. That’s how you met, but you’d never try to actually take his title by aspiring to get even better at it. It wasn’t… something you were interested in; this was just a means to an end, you fought to survive as a fellow pirate. Nothing more, nothing less.

You overperformed in your own interests, so much so that people who were casually interested would leave a conversation with you within minutes. Nobody in the world could relate. Not even Mihawk, you guessed bitterly, but you… trusted him – to listen and, most importantly, to stay.

He was just as much of an autodidact as you were, even if he chose to study the blade and you chose to acquire knowledge about something that truly fulfilled you.

So you wander the halls of his sparsely furnished castle in hopes of finding him.

And find him you did. He was just nonchalantly having dinner all by himself at his desk… it’s truly bizarre that this was one of his most normal moments.

You invited yourself in with a smile, hearing the pleasant ring of his quiet hum upon noticing your presence.

And then you started talking if not info-dumping on Lord Dracule Mihawk. And he just sat there, taking it all in while eating a plate of unseasoned plain pasta…

“So… then me more about this intriguing ‘comic’…”, he murmured, taking a relaxed sip of wine.

He noticed that your eyes shone and that you seemed confused for just a moment before blabbing on with visible excitement, talking a lot faster.

Even though he had trouble following, he sat forward, elbows firmly placed on his spread knees and hands on his chin as if in deep, profound thought all the while nodding at all those random trivia facts you shared about your passion.

At the same time, he shared some random side facts on ranked blades he’s picked up over the years and even let you touch Yoru, explaining in great detail how important the cut of the blade truly was and how maintaining it is his secret to slicing through ships with his brute strength and Haki.

And that’s when you noticed – Mihawk had nobody to talk to about “these things” either. Or maybe he had nobody to talk to in general. Who knows?

But you did have each other.

#one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #op x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #franky x reader #mihawk x reader #x reader #thetrasha writes #thetrasha requests

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chadobi · 2 days ago

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When I wasn’t sure if I’d get back into this account, I started writing to calm down a bit, and since I’m obsessed with Bayverse Donnie, I had to let the stress out somehow, haha.

Anyway, hope you guys like it!”

Night at the Museum

Bayverse!Donatello x reader

The mission was supposed to be quick.

In, out, no problem.

Retrieve a stolen tech device that some high-end thief stashed inside a museum exhibit — easy enough. Mikey had already volunteered to stay on comms (a little too eagerly), Leo was on patrol elsewhere, and Raph… well, Raph hated museums.

So it ended up being you and Donnie.

You didn’t mind. Not at all. Actually, you were kind of excited.

It wasn’t every day you got to break into the Museum of Natural History in the middle of the night with a 7-foot-tall mutant genius.

Besides, you liked Donnie. Maybe a little too much.

Maybe a lot too much.

The skylight creaked as Donatello silently dropped down into the dark exhibit hall, scanning the area with a soft whirr from the goggles resting above his eyes.

You followed, landing more clumsily than you meant to, but he steadied you with one large, gentle hand on your back. Just briefly. Just enough to make your heart stumble a little.

The museum was quiet. Dim security lights cast long shadows across the dioramas and display cases. Time felt different here, slower. You could hear your own breath.

Donnie pulled out his modified tech tracker, scanning for the stolen device.

“The signal’s faint, but it’s somewhere in the west wing. Possibly near the biological sciences hall,” he muttered, typing fast. “Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”

You nodded.

Twenty minutes, and then you’d be gone.

That’s what you told yourself.

But twenty minutes turned into thirty. Then forty.

Because the second you passed the ancient civilizations exhibit, you slowed down. Your eyes lit up like stars in a planetarium.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, walking past the glass display of Greek pottery. “This is an actual kylix. That design’s from around 500 BCE- probably used during a symposium.”

Donnie blinked. “A what now?”

You turned to him, grinning. “An ancient drinking party. They’d sit around talking about philosophy and pouring wine. Socrates was probably wasted all the time.”

“…Not how I pictured classical philosophers, but okay.”

He followed you as you drifted from case to case, words tumbling from your mouth without hesitation, the Mongol Empire, Egyptian medicine, early Islamic astronomy. It was like watching someone enter a dream.

You weren’t just reading plaques. You were remembering.

And you were glowing.

Donnie had never seen you like this.

Eventually, the tracker led you both to the natural sciences wing — a darker, quieter section of the museum, lit by the eerie blue glow of underwater exhibits and bone-white casts of ancient skeletons.

The tech you came for was easy to grab. Stashed behind a climate-controlled insect display, tucked inside a fake fern. Donnie secured it in his bag without a second thought.

But neither of you moved to leave.

You were standing frozen in front of the massive glass wall of the biodiversity exhibit, staring up at the suspended skeleton of a blue whale.

“You okay?” Donnie asked softly, stepping up beside you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, eyes wide. “It’s just… I used to come here as a kid. My parents couldn’t afford much, but on discount days, we’d take the subway in and I’d run straight to this hall. I’d pretend I was a scientist.”

Donnie’s chest ached a little.

He looked at you… really looked. The awe on your face. The fire in your eyes. How you stood there with your hoodie half-zipped, looking like someone who had the universe mapped out in her heart and still wanted to learn more.

“You ever consider going into science?” he asked quietly.

“I wanted to. Biology, maybe. But… I don’t know. I was always better at the humanities, philosophy, history, culture. I love systems. How people work. What they believe, and why.” You glanced at him, a little embarrassed. “That probably sounds dumb next to the stuff you do.”

He was silent.

You looked down.

And then…

“Don’t ever do that. Please.”

Your head snapped up.

Donnie was staring at you. His voice was low, almost hoarse.

“I think your brain might actually be hotter than your face. And that’s saying something.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I mean-” he groaned softly, covering his face with one hand. “That sounded way less weird in my head.”

But you were already smiling.

“Are you flirting with me, Donatello?”

“…Yes?” He peeked through his fingers. “Is it working?”

You stepped closer. “That depends.”

“On?”

“Are you always this into girls who nerd out about dead empires and whale skeletons?”

He chuckled, low and nervous. “Only one, so far.”

Your heart did that annoying skip again.

And you were standing so close now. You could smell the faint scent of metal and coffee on his gear. His brown eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the museum didn’t exist. Just the hush of breath. The hush of maybe.

Then, with a voice barely above a whisper, he added:

“You make me want to learn everything I don’t know. That’s… kind of a superpower.”

That did it.

You reached up, slow, testing, and brushed your fingers along his jaw.

He leaned in like it was gravity.

And in the shadow of ancient bones and glowing dioramas, you kissed him.

You didn’t leave the museum until two hours later.

But Donnie didn’t mind.

Because he’d found what they came for.

And so much more.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt bayverse donnie x reader #tmnt bayverse donatello #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x you #tmnt one shot

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belovedniki · 7 hours ago

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summary: you’re just doing your job. jake’s just trying not to moan when you touch his face. no big deal. (except he’s down bad. embarrassingly so. and you have no idea.)

warnings/tags: idol!jake X staff!reader, obsessive thoughts, reader is oblivious, masturbation (semi-public bathroom), dom/sub undertone, maybe eventual smut (if part 2)

w.c: 1k

— jake was used to being looked at. touched, even. makeup artists brushed his cheeks daily, hair stylists tugged at strands, stylists tugged on his waistband to adjust a fit. he didn’t mind—it was part of the job.

but you?

you ruined him.

he was sure you didn’t mean to be so cruel about it. you were kind—professional. you never noticed how his breath hitched when your thumb brushed his bottom lip to smudge the tint. you never caught how he subtly pressed his thighs together when you leaned over to pat concealer under his eyes, your chest hovering far too close.

you didn’t just touch his face; you lingered. you didn’t just apply powder; you focused. lower lip tucked between your teeth, brows knit together in concentration as you tilted his chin up gently with two fingers and said, “look at me.”

and he did. always. every time. eyes wide, throat dry.

you never realized that jake, golden boy jake, practically whimpered in silence for you.

and today?

today was especially bad.

“jaaaaake,” you called playfully as you stepped into the dressing room, makeup belt slung around your waist.

he was already seated, too early, too eager. his knee bounced nervously, eyes darting to your figure as you walked in.

“hey,” he croaked, too quickly.

you smiled. “ready?”

“y-yeah.” his voice cracked. “totally.”

you grabbed a small sponge, clicking open the compact foundation.

jake felt his heart pound harder than before a live stage.

you tilted his chin up again. “close your eyes.”

he obeyed. he always did.

you dabbed gently around his face, humming softly under your breath, completely unaware of the war happening in his head.

you patted under his eyes and he nearly gasped. you paused, glancing down.

fuck, fuck—her hand’s on my jaw. her thumb’s right there. i can smell her shampoo. don’t get hard. don’t twitch. don’t make a sound—

“you okay?”

his eyes opened slowly. wide and watery. “mhm.” he nodded too fast. “y-you’re just really... um... gentle.”

you chuckled. “that’s the point, jakey.”

he melted.

“okay, lips,” you said, uncapping a sheer balm and bringing it toward his mouth.

he parted his lips slightly and watched you. so focused. so close.

“stay still,” you murmured, brushing color on his bottom lip.

jake’s hands clenched the armrests. his pants felt tighter. you didn’t even notice.

“there.” you stood back. “perfect.”

jake stared at you like you hung the moon.

you spun to organize your brushes. “you’re on in twenty. want water?”

jake stood too fast. “i-i’m good, i just—uh—i need the bathroom real quick.”

you didn’t even look up. “okay, but don’t disappear before the stylist comes in.”

he nodded, heart racing. “yeah. yeah. one sec.”

he ran down the hallway, turning the corner to the small, rarely-used staff bathroom with a trembling hand. locked the door. pressed his back to it.

his chest heaved.

jake looked down. his cock was already hard, painfully straining against his pants. he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

she touched me. she touched my mouth.

he tried to resist it. just breathe. calm down. but then he remembered the way you bit your lip when applying the lip balm. the way your fingers brushed his cheek. how you said jakey like it meant something.

“fuck,” he muttered, palming himself through his jeans.

his hand dipped down fast.

it didn’t take long.

he jerked himself off quietly, desperately, biting down on his wrist to keep from moaning. every flick of his wrist was fueled by the memory of your fingers on his face, your soft voice, the smell of your perfume when you leaned in too close. he imagined your lips wrapped around him instead, imagined your gaze turning dark, finally realizing what you did to him, how you ruined him.

and when he came, it was fast, messy, silent—but intense.

he stood there panting, eyes glazed, shame rolling in quickly.

but not enough to make him stop wanting more.

backstage was even worse.

jake sat on the bench, stage mic in his lap, and you kneeled in front of him adjusting the last touch-up on his eyeliner.

your hand rested on his thigh for balance.

jake stared down at you like a man possessed.

you looked up at him with a soft smile. “you’re fidgeting today.”

he blinked. “s-sorry.”

“you okay?”

he swallowed. “you look really pretty.”

your hand froze.

“huh?”

jake’s eyes widened. “i mean—I mean—y-you always look great. just. the eyeliner today. on you. not me. not that i don’t look good—you made me look good. b-but you—um—fuck.”

you laughed. you actually laughed.

he flushed red from neck to ears.

“jake,” you said gently, standing up. “that’s sweet.”

you checked his collar, fixing a stray hair near his ear, and leaned in to whisper, “i’m rooting for you. kill it out there, okay?”

he barely managed a nod. “y-yeah.”

as you walked away, he nearly fell off the bench.

later, after the stage, you found him sitting alone in the makeup room, still in costume, sweaty and dazed.

you grinned. “why are you still in your full outfit?”

jake blinked at you. “didn’t want to leave.”

you tilted your head. “why?”

he looked down. “you weren’t here.”

you laughed, thinking he was being playful.

you didn’t know how serious he was.

you didn’t know that jake had started timing his day around when you were nearby. that he lingered in dressing rooms just to sit where you stood. that he’d started taking pictures of his face after your touch-ups just to remember how your hands moved over him. that he jacked off in the bathroom to the scent of your perfume more times than he could count.

you didn’t know he dreamt of more than your brushes against his skin. that he wanted to pin you against the mirror and kiss you breathless, make you see what he saw.

you didn’t know. but he’d make sure you did, eventually.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW if you liked it so I can move onto the next part! (smut).

I'm happy to see how my works been getting a bit recognised, love y'all <3

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kimberly-spirits13 · 2 days ago

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Jason Todd Dating Vigulantee Reader

There's not really a good way for me to label this in my mind. Think of this as childhood assassin (smt like Red Room) pipeline into vigulantee. Maybe reader could have some miltary background, that's up to you if you'd like. I want to write a fic about reader meeting Batfam based on this

The two of you meet because Roy is a mutal friend

Roy asked if you wanted to go hit some target with a friend of his and you accepted quickly

it was difficult to make good friends due to your life experience but Roy was someone that you bonded with over training so you were willing to hang with whoever he thought you'd get along with

You're taking your rifle out of its case and preparing your equipement when tall, dark, and handsome walks in

"Roy, I'll shoot you if you-" His words die off the tip of his tounge when he sees you

"Cat got your tongue?" You quip

"Not at all, just thought Roy's friend was in his imagination" "I'm Jason."

Roy is standing in the corner with a shit eating grin watching this play out

Jason is impressed with you, you're impressed with him

The two of you start hanging out outside of Roy

Personal conversations start out slow and noncommital with a few questions here and there

He learns that you were a child assassin and gained an education through world wide tutoring about whatever subject you were studying

"You know that 10% increase in assassinations in Geneva?" You ask him. There were two copies of Emma sitting between the two of you and an obscene amount of highlighters and pens strewn about for annotation. Jason takes a sip of his coffee and raises a brow before putting the cup back down and thumbing through a few pages of the book. "Yeah?" He answers. "Cause I was studying astrophysics when I was 12 there." You say

Jason catalouges all of this information and knows that you're doing the same for him

When you're on patrol, he can see how the training has shaped you

You take charge of every situation that you're in, calling out orders and throwing yourself in the way of danger for the betterment of others

You communicate quickly and effectively with Jason and those that you're working with

Jason sees that you become a different person when the adrenaline hits, but in those quiet moments during patrol where it's just the two of you sitting on a rooftop and looking after the city, he sees you for who you are

If someone were to quietly observe, they'd hear quiet snickers and playful commentary on the things that you've observed

They'd see Jason throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to keep warm in the night's chill

If they were lucky, they'd see when he takes his helmet off to kiss you and let you run your fingers through his hair before placing the helmet back on and continuing on the patrol

When others hears the two of you in public, they may double take at the joke that you're laughing at

It's probably something a bit too colorful for the average person, but something that has Jason wheezing and you clutching onto his arm to keep yourself up

They'd stare as you add onto the joke, knocking the breath out of Jason

Jason admires you when you're sitting at your table scribbling down notes to a case and spinning a butterfly knife around

He talks to you and asks questions about what you're doing and sits like he's never seen anything more beautiful in the world

Jason wants to know everything that's going through your mindm but he also doesn't want to invade

Tows the line sometimes

Jason knows that there are days that you're not feeling well mentally

There are times where you wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare and Jason pops up from dead sleep, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight grip

Talks you down so that you know where you are

Gives you space when you need it but you know that he's always there

If you have any tats, he asks about them but he knows that they may be personal so he doesn't push

If you were to just tell him or start talking about them, he'd drop everything and pay the most attention, noting everything that you tell him and filing it away as information about you

Likes the training days that you have and learns that you actually could and would take him out based on your training

Getting up every morning at the specified time and running your miles then heading into weight training and then specified training is your morning routine

Even if you have time off, it's something that you're keen on doing since the rest of the day just doesn't feel right without it

Jason gets up and does it with you since he thinks at first that it's a fun couple's bonding thing

He thinks that until he's 10 miles into the ruck and you're chatting away while he's contemplating his life

he's built and very capable, so it's not like he's dying or anything, he's just uncomfortable

like you do this--- for fun?

yeah, duh

He likes that the two of you challenge each other and it's okay to tease the other about training or anything else

His favorite part of training is any hand to hand combat that he will demand volunteer to be your partner in

Knock him down a few times just to keep the man humble, will ya?

Due to your training, you have extensive knowledge of weapons and combat techniques

If there's something that is stumping him in a case, he has learned that the fastest solution is to come and ask you about it first

He sits and listens intently as you rattle off all the information you know about this thought to be dead assassin society that is now running around in Gotham

there are a few times where you may have corrected his form or given him an easier way to do something

Again, he's extremely capable, but take someone who has been training their whole lives vs someone who hasn't and there might be some things that the other can brush up on

There have been a few times where Jason has hurt himself trying to replicate one of your moves

You think it's hilarious, but still chide him about it

"Jay, I do that specifically to take out people your size. Why are you doing it?" You laugh, helping him peel himself off the ground

"Well, by that logic I could do that for Grundy or something. He's huge!" Jason whines

"Hon, you're built like a wall and I'm not. I need to get a bit more creative with take downs. You can't label yourself with my physical fighting needs when you're not built like me at all." "Otherwise, you'll throw something out love"

"Yea, I noticed. Thanks"

When he finally does bring you over to meet his family formally, he's worried that something will go wrong

You have to promise him that you won't be thrown off by anything and that you've seen your fair share of chaos

Jason's worries are easily shattered when you get along with everyone

You're sitting at the dinner tables telling stories of training, laughing about the things you've seen on the feild, and discussing the similarities and differences of childhood and growing up that you shared with his family

He knows that the deal is sealed when Alfred pulls him to the side and praises the partner that he's brought home

Bruce does the same thing, telling Jason that he's proud Jay has been able to create his own found family and that he can see how happy Jason is

You're happy because you've found even more people who get you now and have a whole family of vigulantees that you can consider close friends

idk this was just random ramblings. Thinking of doing some stuff for Kon and, like I said, maybe a fic for this reader meeting Batfam

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fic #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #red hood x y/n #red hood x you

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l-u-xwrites · 3 days ago

Text

"What Love Takes"

M E E T T H E C A S T

S U M M A R Y :

Naomi thought she knew what love looked like. But the road to healing is messy. And love? Real love—the kind that chooses you, sees you, and stays? It might just be waiting where she least expects it. Some love takes too much. The right one gives you back to yourself.

Warnings: story contains sensitive themes, implied smut (minors dni)

Word Count: 6,350

Chapter 1

Naomi’s hand reached across the bed instinctively.

Empty.

Still warm, but empty.

Her brows knit together before her eyes even opened, lashes fluttering against the early morning sun leaking through the blinds. The quiet told her everything before she even sat up. Jayce was gone.

Well—not gone, just… not there.

She blinked, stretching her arm across the cool sheets. No note. No text. Just a hollow space where warmth used to be.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Naomi tossed the covers back and slid her feet onto the hardwood floor. Her mind was already chasing something else—him.

The faint sound of a voice drifted in from the kitchen.

She padded softly down the hallway, careful not to make the floor creak.

Jayce was standing in front of the open fridge, AirPods in, one hand gesturing while the other gripped a bottle of orange juice.

“I told Marcus the proposal’s already on the shared drive. If he still can’t find it, that’s not on me.”

Naomi paused just outside the doorway, leaning against the wall. His back was to her, voice smooth, confident—charming even when annoyed. He laughed at something the person on the other end said, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was their routine now. Jayce & The Hustle. Always a new deal. Always a new call. Always a reason to not be here.

Naomi waited until he clicked off the call before stepping fully into the kitchen.

“Morning.”

Jayce turned, slightly startled, then offered that crooked, half-awake smile she used to fall for like clockwork. “Mimi,” he said softly.

She smiled a little at the nickname. She used to love the way it sounded coming from him—still did, sometimes.

He set the juice down and walked toward her, looping an arm lazily around her waist. “You sleep good?”

“Missed you in the bed,” she murmured against his chest.

“I was up early,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple. “Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Naomi leaned into the hug, but it didn’t last. His phone buzzed on the counter. And just like that, his hand was gone.

She watched him glance at the screen, reply quickly, and set it down again like nothing happened.

He moved past her to grab a mug, not noticing the way she lingered, eyes trailing him like she was studying a stranger she used to know.

“I was thinking,” Naomi started gently, “maybe we could spend the day together? Just us?”

Jayce blew on his coffee, sipping it before speaking. “Today?”

Naomi nodded, arms folding lightly over her chest.

Jayce didn’t even meet her gaze. “I got a meeting in two hours, babe. Then I told Terry I’d swing by his spot later.”

Her heart dropped just a little. Just enough to feel.

“Oh.”

He looked up then, noticing her silence. “Why? You okay?”

Naomi hesitated. “Yeah… I just miss you sometimes, that’s all.”

Jayce walked over and kissed her forehead like a band-aid on a bullet wound. “You’re always missing me, Mimi. I’m not gone.”

She swallowed hard, forcing a light laugh. “Guess I’m just clingy then, huh?”

“You said it, not me,” he joked, grinning as he took another sip.

Naomi smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

He didn’t notice.

Ten minutes later, Jayce was back in the living room, pacing while texting. Naomi sat at the kitchen table, her untouched toast growing cold on the plate.

She glanced down at her phone and opened up the group chat:

The Powerpuff Girls 💥💗

Naomi:

If y’all aren’t busy today, can we do lunch? I need my girls. 😭

JadeyPooh ❤️‍🔥:

Sis! What’s going on? 👀 SPILL.

Carmii 👑💋

Say less. Where we meeting?

Naomi smiled softly, thumb hovering over the screen for a second before she typed again.

Naomi:

Jayce got “plans” again and I need a break from pretending I’m not bothered. 🙄

JadeyPooh ❤️‍🔥:

Oh girl… We been peeped that vibe. Meet at Melba’s at 3?

Carmii 👑💋:

I’m there. Glass of wine waiting for you.

Naomi let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The kind of breath that only comes when you stop pretending everything’s fine.

Jayce walked back in, keys in hand, jacket over his arm.

“You sure you’re good?” he asked, watching her from the doorway.

Naomi glanced up. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He nodded, giving her that same smile. The one that made you want to believe him.

Then he was gone.

Naomi sat in the silence, wondering when she started needing to lie just to keep things peaceful. She stood in front of the mirror, arms crossed as her eyes scanned her reflection. Her closet door was wide open behind her, clothes hanging like quiet questions.

She didn’t want to do too much. But she also didn’t want to look like she’d been sitting in silence all morning, waiting on a man who’d barely noticed the way she stared at the empty side of their bed.

Eventually, she settled on a pair of cream-colored wide-leg linen pants and a soft beige top. She tied her curls up into a loose puff, letting a few soft tendrils frame her face. Added her hoops. Swiped gloss over her lips. She just wanted to feel like her again.

As she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on her sandals, her mind drifted—back to that fall semester five years ago.

*Flashback*

She’d been sitting on the back steps of the campus library, headphones in, eating Skittles for dinner after missing the dining hall again. It was the first month of college and everything felt loud and bright and crowded. She was quiet by nature—always had been—but college made it feel like quiet meant invisible.

Jayce had walked past her once, then backtracked.

“You always eat dinner alone?” he’d asked, teasing but not unkind.

Naomi had pulled out one headphone. “Only when the vending machine’s serving five-star cuisine.”

He laughed, and it hit her chest like sunshine.

He sat beside her like they’d known each other longer than a minute. “I’m Jayce,” he said, holding out a hand.

She stared at it, unsure. But she took it. “Naomi.”

That was it. That was the moment.

From there, he became her world in slow, magnetic waves. Study sessions. Midnight food runs. Him walking her back to her dorm even when it was out of the way. The way he defended her in class once when she got talked over. The way he made her feel like being quiet didn’t mean being small.

By sophomore year, they were inseparable. By senior year, they were already planning an apartment in the city and Sunday mornings with records spinning.

But somewhere between “forever” and “right now,” things had shifted. Jayce had grown into his ambition, and Naomi had started to shrink inside his shadow—smiling through moments that used to be filled with real laughter.

*End of Flashback*

She adjusted herself in the mirror, suddenly aware of how quiet the apartment was without him in it.

Her phone buzzed.

Carmii 👑💋:

On my way now. Jade said she running late, as usual 🙄

Naomi:

Lmaooo I’m heading out now.

She grabbed her purse, taking one last look around the bedroom. Jayce’s cologne still lingered in the air, and his hoodie was tossed over the chair in the corner—like he was always coming back, even when he was never really here.

Naomi paused at the door, then slipped on her sunglasses and stepped out into the sunlight. Maybe today would feel different. Maybe her girls would remind her of herself. And maybe—just maybe—she’d stop feeling like she was waiting for a love that no longer lived in the same place as her heart.

Melba’s was buzzing like always. Laughter, the scent of buttered biscuits, and seasoned shrimp filled the air, and the music was loud enough to drown out awkward silences.

Naomi slid into the booth by the window, the one they always sat at.

Carmila was already there, sipping sweet tea and tapping on her phone with manicured fingers. She looked perfect as always—slick bob, gold nameplate necklace, and lashes that didn’t move even when she blinked slow.

“You look cute,” Carmila said, glancing up.

“Thank you.” Naomi offered a soft smile. “So do you.”

Carmila smirked. “When do I not?”

They both laughed, but Naomi’s was softer, unsure.

Minutes later, Jade came rushing in, sliding into the booth beside Naomi with her signature energy.

“I’m sorry, y’all. I was fighting for my life to find a parking spot! Why they got three spots for a whole damn restaurant? I had to walk 3 blocks!”

“You always late,” Carmila teased.

“And you always shady,” Jade shot back with a smile, then turned to Naomi, eyes softening. “But hey, you okay, sis? You sounded off in the chat.”

Naomi looked down at her menu for a beat too long.

Then she folded it closed.

“I just… I don’t know what’s going on with Jayce anymore,” she admitted, her voice low. “It’s like… he’s there, but not there. I feel like I’m fighting for something he already gave up on.”

Carmila hummed, eyes wide like she was deeply invested. “Really? Y’all looked fine at that party last month.”

“We’re good at looking fine,” Naomi said quietly. “But lately? I ask him for time, he’s always too busy. I open up, he says I’m too sensitive. I just want to feel… loved. Chosen. Like I’m not just taking up space in his life.”

Jade leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Have you told him that?”

Naomi nodded slowly. “Every time I do, he turns it on me. Says I’m being needy or that I don’t understand his grind.”

Jade sucked her teeth. “Nah. Nah. See, men love to call you ‘clingy’ when they stop doing the things that made you feel safe to begin with.”

Carmila sipped her tea, nodding sympathetically. “But he’s working hard though, right? Maybe he’s just stressed.”

Naomi looked at her. “He always stressed. That’s the thing. He doesn’t make time anymore. I used to feel like a priority… now I feel like an afterthought.”

Jade didn’t break eye contact. “So why you still holding on?”

Naomi looked down, pressing her nails into her palm. “Because I’m scared. I’ve never been with anybody else. He’s been my person since college. I don’t even know who I am without him.”

Carmila reached over, touching her hand gently. “You’re Naomi. Beautiful. Smart. Loyal to a fault.” She smiled sweetly. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Jade side-eyed Carmila but said nothing.

Naomi sighed. “I just want him to see me again. Not just look at me—but really see me.”

The server came, breaking the moment with plates and fresh drinks. For a second, the clatter on the table gave Naomi a reason not to cry.

They dug into their food, the silence thick.

Jade was the first to speak again. “I’mma be real with you. You keep trying to pour into a man who ain’t got no cup. He out here running on ego and ambition while you starving emotionally. That’s not love, Omi. That’s survival.”

Carmila placed her fork down slowly. “But sometimes people grow in different seasons. Maybe y’all just need to…realign.”

Jade blinked. “Or maybe he needs to stop playing house with her heart.”

Naomi let out a breath—half hurt, half grateful.

“Y’all ever think… maybe it’s me?” she whispered. “Maybe I’m too much.”

“Don’t do that,” Jade said quickly. “You are not too much. You’re asking for basic love. And if that feels like pressure to him, that’s a him problem.”

Carmila dabbed at her lips with her napkin, gaze cool. “Well… if things aren’t working, maybe a break isn’t the worst idea.”

Naomi blinked. “A break?”

“I mean…” Carmila shrugged, expression calm. “Sometimes space makes people appreciate what they’re taking for granted.”

Jade stared at her, unimpressed. “You’d love that, huh?”

Carmila laughed it off, waving her hand. “Girl, don’t start. I’m just saying. If he can’t handle the woman you are, maybe he doesn’t deserve the woman you’re becoming.”

That part was true. But not in the way Naomi thought.

As the check came, Naomi leaned back in the booth, full in body but hollow in spirit. Her girls were right—even if they said it different ways.

Something was off. Worse than distance. She just didn’t know what yet.

But she could feel it now. In the way Carmila’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. In the way Jayce kissed her like he was clocking out. In the way the home they built together now felt like a waiting room.

Naomi’s phone buzzed just as she stepped back out into the sun.

J💗

You coming home soon?

No hey, no I miss you, no how was lunch?

Just... logistics.

She stared at the message for a second before typing back:

Naomi:

Yeah, on my way now.

By the time she walked through the front door, the apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the dryer running in the back. Jayce was on the couch, phone in hand, thumb tapping fast. But the second he saw her, the screen dimmed. Not locked. Just turned over.

Subtle. So subtle it shouldn’t mean anything. But something in her chest took note of it.

“Hey,” he said without looking up again, voice casual. “You get your therapy in with the girls?”

Naomi smiled softly, setting her bag down by the door. “Is that what you think lunch was?”

Jayce grinned, finally looking at her. “I mean, y’all do always come back ready to break up with somebody.”

She gave him a look but didn’t push.

He stretched, patting the couch cushion beside him. “You tryna come over here or…?”

She hesitated, then walked over, sitting beside him but not fully leaning in.

“I wanted to talk,” she said.

He groaned dramatically, tossing his head back. “Damn. That’s never a good start.”

“Jayce.”

“I’m playing,” he said, glancing at her. “What’s up?”

Naomi turned slightly to face him, legs crossed. “I just… I’ve been feeling kind of off lately. About us.”

He sighed, but in that way that sounded more like performance than patience.

“Not this again.” He said. Rolling his eyes.

“See,” she said quietly, “that right there. That’s the part that hurts. You make it sound like me being honest is just another thing on your to-do list.”

Jayce ran a hand over his face. “It’s not like that, Naomi. You just get in these moods sometimes and act like I’m the villain.”

“I’m not in a mood,” she said. “I’m trying to talk to the man I love.”

He paused at that, watching her for a beat.

Then: “Okay. Say what you gotta say.”

Naomi’s fingers fidgeted in her lap. “I feel like I’m losing you. Like I’m trying to reach for you and all I keep grabbing is the version of you I miss. The version who used to ask me how my day was, who used to laugh with me. You used to feel present, Jayce.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Physically, yeah. But emotionally?”

Jayce leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “Naomi, I got a lot on my plate right now. I’m trying to make something out of this business, get our life right—”

“I didn’t fall in love with your business,” she said. “I fell in love with you.”

He smirked a little, like the moment was getting too real. “You getting poetic on me now?”

She didn’t smile.

Jayce scooted closer, his hand slipping onto her thigh. “Maybe we just need to… reconnect.”

His voice dropped, fingers brushing the hem of her shirt. That familiar tone. The fix it with sex tone. And even though her heart was tired, Naomi let herself soften into it. Because she did love him. Still. She loved him enough to ache. Loved him enough to fight. Loved him enough to take the scraps of closeness and pretend they were whole.

As he kissed her shoulder, she tilted toward him—not from habit, but from hope.

Hope that this time it might mean more. Hope that it wasn’t just muscle memory for him. Hope that maybe, if she gave enough of herself, he’d meet her there.

His lips moved to her neck, and her eyes fluttered shut.

She hated that this was the only time she felt him fully. But she wanted it anyway. Wanted him to see her again, even if it was through touch and not words. So when he whispered her name, she answered with her body.

He pulled her closer, and for a second, Naomi tried to let herself feel it. To believe in the illusion.

But somewhere inside, something was pulling away. This isn’t love, it whispered. This is survival disguised as connection. He kissed her like everything was okay. She kissed him back like she wished it was..

Naomi stayed awake long after Jayce fell asleep beside her, his arm flung loosely over her waist. She stared at the ceiling, the faint hum of the streetlights outside flickering across the wall. She felt heavy. Not from what she knew. But from what she was just beginning to sense. Whatever this was between them—it wasn’t dead yet, but something was definitely dying. And she couldn’t help but wonder… what if the version of herself she missed was buried underneath the version she became for him?

The Next Day

Naomi woke up to the weight of something she couldn’t name. Not heavy, not light—just... present. Like a thought that didn’t quite make it into words. She laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. The bed behind her was warm, but empty—again. Same as yesterday. Same as the day before that.

She slid out from under the sheets, grabbed her bonnet off the nightstand, and padded into the bathroom, flipping the light on low. Her reflection blinked back at her—eyes still swollen with sleep, curls flattened on one side. She reached for her toothbrush and leaned over the sink.

Yesterday kept replaying in her head like background noise. Lunch with the girls. The way Jade looked at her like she already knew the ending. The moment Jayce had kissed her like a habit. And the way she'd let him.

Naomi spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth, pressing her fingers against her temples.

“It shouldn’t be this hard to feel loved.” The thought came and went, quiet and uninvited.

She could hear muffled voices in the kitchen now. Jayce’s laugh—louder than it ever seemed when he was alone with her. Another voice followed, more grounded, more familiar.

Terry.

She stepped out of the bathroom, as she made her way toward the sound. The smell of coffee was hanging in the air.

“…I’m just sayin’, bro,” Jayce was saying as she got closer, “you always solo. When you gon’ find somebody for real?”

Terry chuckled. “I’m not rushing it. When the right person comes along, I’ll know. I don’t mind waiting.”

Naomi stepped into the room, soft smile already forming. “Morning,” she said, voice still a little husky from sleep.

Terry turned first, flashing her that warm smile he always gave her—the kind that felt genuine. He opened his arms and pulled her into a quick hug. “Morning, Omi. You good?”

She nodded. “I’m good. Y’all heading out?”

“Bout to hit the court,” Terry said, grabbing his water bottle off the counter. “Your boy trying to relive his glory days.”

Jayce smirked. “Don’t be mad when I drop 15 on you.”

Naomi rolled her eyes with a small laugh and leaned against the counter. “Y’all sound like y’all 40.” She turned to Terry. “Hey, not to intrude but my friend Carmila is single. You should meet her.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh word?”

“She’s beautiful. Smart. Kinda intense, but in a good way,” Naomi said, sipping from her mug. “We’ve been trying to plan a game night. I was thinking we could invite her so you two can meet.”

Before Terry could answer, Jayce cut in with a laugh that felt a little too sharp. “Man, I don’t know if Carmila’s really Terry’s type.”

Naomi tilted her head slightly. “What makes you say that?”

Jayce shrugged, looking down at his phone like the conversation didn’t really matter. “I don’t know. She’s just… different.”

Something in his tone made Naomi pause. It wasn’t what he said. It was the way he said it—like there was something behind the words.

But she brushed it off, smiling at Terry. “Anyway, I think y’all would vibe. She’s not as cold as she pretends to be.”

Terry gave a half-smile, nodding. “I’m down for game night. You just let me know when.”

Jayce pocketed his phone and grabbed his keys, already heading toward the door. “We out. Don’t let her play matchmaker too hard, T.”

Terry grinned. “I ain’t scared.”

Jayce reached over and kissed Naomi. “Later, Mimi.”

She nodded, watching as the two of them disappeared out the door. But even after the door clicked shut, Naomi stayed still, her mug cradled in both hands.

That moment—Jayce’s comment. His tone. The way he always seemed off when Carmila’s name came up. It tugged at something in her, something small and sharp, but she didn’t pull at it yet. She felt silly for having those kind of thoughts. Especially when it came to her bestfriend.

Naomi stood in the quiet that followed, still holding her mug like it anchored her. For a moment, she just… stared. Not at anything in particular—just into the space they’d walked out of. Terry’s laugh still echoed in her head. Not because it was loud. But because it had warmth. A different kind of warmth than she’d gotten used to.

Naomi walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain just enough to peek out. She watched them get in the car—Jayce already unlocking his phone, thumb moving fast. Terry sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like he was thinking about something.

Then… he turned his head, looking towards the window. Right where she stood.

Not long. Not hard. But just enough to make her freeze. Enough to make her wonder if he knew something she didn’t. Or saw something she was still trying not to.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t wave. He just looked. And then he turned back around as the car pulled away.

*Flashback* A few months earlier…

She remembered a day in the fall when Jayce had forgotten to pick her up from work. Rain poured like it had something to prove, and she’d stood under the awning, hood pulled low, phone clutched in one hand.

She’d called Jayce three times. Straight to voicemail.

Her thumb hovered over her contacts for a second before she sighed and tapped Terry.

He answered on the second ring. “Yo.”

She exhaled, the sound caught somewhere between relief and embarrassment. “Hey… sorry to bother you.”

“You good?” His voice shifted—concern sliding into the spaces her silence left behind.

“I’m fine. Just… stranded. Jayce isn’t picking up and I—” Her voice cracked, more frustrated than anything. “I just need a ride. If you’re not busy.”

Terry had shown up fifteen minutes later in his truck, wipers squeaking, music low.

“You good?” he’d asked, reaching over to turn the heat up for her. She was shivering, barely speaking.

He didn’t force her to talk. Just drove in silence, one hand steady on the wheel, the other passing her a napkin when he noticed her wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

That was all. No big moment. No drama. Just… awareness.

*End of Flashback*

She hadn't thought about that moment in forever. But right now? It surfaced like it had been waiting.

After Terry and Jayce left, Naomi busied herself straightening up the apartment. Folding blankets that didn’t need folding. Refilling the Brita. Wiping down the already-clean counter. But it was all just noise. What she really wanted was to not feel like a stranger in her own relationship.

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Carmila’s name flashing across the screen.

Incoming FaceTime: Carmii 👑💋

She accepted, propping the phone up against the toaster. Carmila’s face filled the screen—beat to perfection as usual, gloss poppin’, baby hairs in check.

“Damn, girl. You look like you just came from a photoshoot.”

Carmila smirked. “I am the shoot. What are you up to?”

Naomi laughed and leaned against the counter. “So I was thinking… you should come to game night this weekend.”

“Oh, we doing that now?” Carmila said, sipping from her straw. “Y’all finally putting the vibes together?”

Naomi nodded. “And… I kinda want you to meet somebody.”

Carmila raised an eyebrow. “Meet somebody?” She leaned closer to the camera. “Is he cute?”

Naomi paused for a second too long.

She thought about Terry. The way his arms filled out his T-shirt this morning. The quiet confidence in his voice. The way he hugged her—firm, but respectful. The smoothness of his skin, the clean cut of his jawline. Those eyes….

She blinked hard and shook her head, pushing the thoughts away like a door she wasn’t supposed to open.

“Uhh—hellooo?” Carmila snapped, waving at the screen. “I said, is. he. cute?”

Naomi cleared her throat, guilt rising in her chest. “Yeah, he’s cute. Tall, nice, chill. His name’s Terry. He’s Jayce’s best friend.”

Carmila leaned back, eyebrows lifting. “Mmm… I might be interested. Long as he don’t got baby mama drama, we’re good.”

Naomi chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just sayin’. I’ll be there. Just send the date and time.”

“Done.”

They hung up, and Naomi stared at the dark screen for a second, her reflection staring back.

“Why were you even thinking about Terry like that?” She thought to herself.

She pushed the thought deeper this time—buried it under things like loyalty and history and guilt.

By the time evening came, Naomi was back in the kitchen, apron tied, stirring a pot of pasta sauce while the oven preheated. Soft R&B played in the background—H.E.R. or Snoh Aalegra, she couldn’t remember—but it made the room feel warm. Comfortable. Like home.

She’d already set the living room up with blankets and candles, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She wanted tonight to feel like how it used to be.

The door opened and Jayce walked in, dropping his gym bag near the door.

“Smells good in here,” he said, walking past her to grab a water.

“I made dinner. And I figured we could do a movie night. Just us?”

Jayce gave a slight nod. “Bet. Let me shower real quick.”

By the time he came out, she had everything ready—plates on the tray, TV loaded with options, and her favorite throw blanket already draped across the couch.

“What you in the mood for?” she asked, settling in.

Jayce flopped down beside her. “Let’s do something classic.”

Naomi grinned. “Love & Basketball?”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “You and that damn movie.”

“And you love it too, so hush.”

They pressed play, and for a moment, Naomi felt like maybe—just maybe—things were shifting. Jayce let her cuddle into his chest, and she exhaled slowly against him, savoring the closeness.

But then…

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Jayce’s phone lit up on the armrest. Naomi tried to ignore it, tried to stay in the moment.

Buzz.

She glanced at the screen. Just a letter—a contact she didn’t recognize—flashing once before he grabbed the phone and flipped it over.

“Who’s texting you?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Jayce shrugged. “Nobody important. Just some work shit.”

She didn’t respond.

A few minutes later, the phone rang.

He paused the movie and stood up. “It’s Marcus.. I’ma take this in the room real quick.”

Naomi sat frozen, blinking at the paused scene on the screen—Quincy with the basketball in his hands, Monica watching him leave.

Art imitating life, huh?

He didn’t close the bedroom door all the way. And even though she wasn’t trying to listen, she heard it anyway.

“…You can’t be texting me like that. Not right now.”

A pause.

“I’ll handle it. Just chill.”

The rest faded as he lowered his voice and pulled the door mostly shut.

Naomi sat still. That one sentence hit her chest like ice. That meant whoever was on the other end… couldn't have been Marcus, right?.

She stared down at the blanket pulled over her legs. Tried to breathe evenly. Tried not to jump to conclusions. Tried to pretend she didn’t hear what she just heard. Because if she did? She’d have to ask the kind of questions she wasn’t ready to hear the answers to.

Jayce came back out five minutes later, putting his hoodie on, looking completely unbothered.

Naomi didn’t even try to play it cool this time.

“So I’m that unbearable now?” she said, standing up. “We can’t even have a movie night without you "handling business" or taking calls?”

Jayce sighed. “Naomi…”

“No, like seriously. Is this what we do now? You can’t give me two uninterrupted hours?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Mimi, it was work.”

“It’s always work.”

Jayce turned to grab his keys off the table. “Look—I’ll make it up to you, okay? But right now I gotta go. Marcus needs me to help him with some last-minute stuff.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond.

The door shut behind him a second later.

And Naomi stood there, tears welling up before she could stop them. She sank onto the couch, reaching for her phone with shaky hands.

Naomi: You up? Can you come over?

JadeyPooh❤️‍🔥: On my way. Bringing wine. Red or white?

Naomi: Red. The heavy kind.

Thirty minutes later, Jade walked in with her pajamas on and fuzzy slippers. A bottle under one arm and a box of cookies under the other.

Naomi pulled her in for a hug, then plopped down on the couch beside her, already pouring.

“Okay,” Jade said, kicking off her slippers. “Start from the beginning.”

Naomi sighed and sipped. “We tried to have a movie night. Everything was perfect. But his phone kept going off, and he left to take a call. Said it was work.”

Jade narrowed her eyes. “You believe him?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Naomi admitted. “But even if it was work… I just feel like I’m begging for attention. Like I don’t even register unless I’m cooking, crying, or naked.” Naomi leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Jade shook her head. “That’s not love.. That’s maintenance.”

Naomi wiped her face. “What… do you think I could do better? I know I’m not perfect. Maybe I’m too emotional. Maybe I expect too much.”

“Stop.” Jade looked her dead in the eye. “Wanting love, affection, and basic presence is not too much. You don’t need to change a damn thing—he does.”

Naomi sighed again. “I’m just trying to make this work.”

“You’re doing all the trying, babe.”

Naomi didn’t say anything at first.

She just stared down into her wine glass, watching the slow swirl of red against the sides like it might reveal something. Like maybe, if she stared hard enough, she’d see an answer floating there. But all she saw was the truth Jade had just handed her—plain, brutal, and honest.

You’re doing all the trying.

Naomi felt that line settle in her chest like it had been waiting to be spoken out loud. Because deep down… she knew. She knew it in the way she always reached out first. In how she softened her voice so she wouldn’t seem “too emotional.” In the way she planned movie nights and date nights and sweet little moments—just to feel close again. And still, it never felt like enough. She was exhausted. Not just tired—but soul-tired. Tired from carrying a love that used to be shared. Tired from reaching across a gap that kept getting wider while Jayce stood still on the other side, arms folded.

And yet, she stayed. Because loving him still felt safer than starting over. Sometimes pretending was easier than admitting she deserved more.

But what if this is what love takes? What if this is all I’ll ever get?

The thought came fast and sharp, and she hated that it didn’t sound dramatic—it just sounded familiar.

She blinked hard and swallowed the lump in her throat before Jade could see it. Then she took another sip, smiled softly, and nodded like she was okay.

But inside?

She was starting to wonder how much longer she could lie to herself and still call it love.

They fell into a soft silence, sipping their wine until the tension eased.

“Oh!” Naomi said suddenly, sitting up. “I told Carmila about game night. I want to set her up with Terry.”

Jade nearly choked on her drink. “Carmila?! Girl…”

“What?” Naomi laughed. “They might hit it off.”

Jade shook her head, grinning. “Carmila don’t want no man unless he got drama and a double life.”

“Well, Terry is the opposite of that.”

“Exactly,” Jade said. “He’s fine as hell and stable. Carmila gon’ eat him alive.”

Naomi laughed harder than she had in days. The kind of laugh that cracked the sadness just a little.

Jade leaned back, swirling her glass. “Listennn… if I wasn’t gay?”

She pointed her wine glass in the air like she was making a toast.

“I’d be all over Terry. I’d change my whole personality for that man.”

Jade poured them both another glass. “Game night might be more eventful than you planned.”

And as Naomi leaned into her friend’s shoulder, the weight of the evening still lingered. But at least she didn’t feel alone in it.

The Next Morning

Naomi woke with a slight headache and the taste of red wine still lingering on her tongue.

The soft hum of the ceiling fan circled overhead, mixing with Jayce’s even breathing beside her. One of his arms was lazily wrapped around her waist, his chest pressed into her back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe once, it had been. But now? Now it just felt… off.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the wall ahead of her. His call from last night repeating in her mind like a skipping record She hadn’t said anything.. Not even to herself, really. But it was still there. Heavy. Waiting.

She gently peeled his arm off of her and slid out of bed, padding toward the bathroom with the quiet care of someone trying not to wake a storm.

By the time she was in the kitchen, the sun was stretching through the window blinds, casting long shadows across the floor. She filled a glass with water and leaned against the counter, sipping slowly, trying to will the wine from her system and the suspicion from her chest.

A few minutes later, Jayce appeared in the doorway—shirtless, sleepy-eyed. Like a scene from a life she used to want.

“Morning, Baby,” he said, his voice still raspy with sleep.

He stepped behind her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and kissed the crook of her neck up to the shell of her ear.

She flinched—just slightly. Not enough to call it out, but enough for him to feel the shift.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.

“Of course.” Naomi forced a tight smile and nodded, then turned back to rinse her glass.

Jayce hesitated, then pulled back just a bit, his eyes scanning her face. “You still mad about last night?”

Naomi kept her eyes on the sink. “No. I’m fine.”

He didn’t fully buy it, but he smiled softly anyway, nudging her hair aside. “I know I messed that up,” he said, tone lower now, almost coaxing.

She didn’t say anything. Just rinsed out her glass.

Jayce didn’t press. Instead, he moved in close again, this time his hands slipping lower, fingers curling at her hips. His lips brushed the edge of her jaw, his voice lower now. “You know we never finished that movie last night…”

Naomi stiffened. He kissed her again—this time behind her ear, slow and suggestive.

“I’m good,” she said quickly, stepping out of his hold. She reached for a clean mug from the cabinet. “I’ve got plans this morning anyway.”

Jayce blinked like he hadn’t heard her right. “Plans?”

“I told Carmila I’d meet up with her. We’re gonna shop for food and drinks for game night. And decorations. She’s picky about that kind of stuff.”

Jayce ran a hand over his face, then scratched the back of his neck. “I mean… can’t that wait? I thought maybe we could spend the morning together.”

Naomi raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Damn. Okay.”

She turned back towards the coffeemaker, ignoring the quiet sting in her chest. The back-and-forth was exhausting—he wanted her when she pulled away, forgot her when she leaned in.

Jayce leaned against the fridge, watching her. “You and Carmila been hanging out more than usual lately, huh?”

Naomi looked at him. “She’s one of my best friends. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jayce lifted both hands, defensive. “Nothing. Just saying. Y’all be doing a lot of girl-time lately.”

Naomi kept her face neutral, but the irony wasn’t lost on her.

You’re the one who’s always gone. You’re the one making me find comfort outside of you. But she didn’t say any of that.

Instead, she grabbed her keys from the hook by the door. “I’ll be back later.”

Jayce stepped toward her. “You sure we good?”

Naomi hesitated just a second too long before saying, “Yeah.”

He reached for her waist again, trying to pull her into another kiss, but she sidestepped him like it was instinct. Not with anger. Just… detachment.

“I’ll see you later,” she said softly, then walked out before he could say anything else.

Behind her, Jayce stood still in the kitchen, watching the door close. His jaw flexed, unreadable.

Naomi didn’t see the way his phone lit up on the counter just seconds later. The contact flashing across the screen.

C🤫

And just like that, he picked it up and walked toward the bedroom, rubbing the back of his neck like the guilt hadn’t fully settled yet.

Jayce is sneaky. Terry fine as hell. Where we going with this? Lmaooo! Stay tunedddd….

A/N: FINALLYYYY!! 😭 The amount of times that I have revised this is crazy. I had to post this with my eyes closed or I wouldn’t have done it. This is my first series so I just wanted it to be as perfect as possible! Chapter 2 coming soon! Hopefully I can create some kind of posting schedule for this.

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments! I hope you enjoy!!!

L-U-X <3

#l-u-x writes #terry richmond #aaron pierre #l-u-x recs #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre fanfic #terry richmond x black female oc #aaron pierre x black!oc #terry richmond x black!oc #original character #black original character #greg tarzan davis

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sincere1ystar · 3 days ago

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My Sweetheart Gives Me Love in Doses

billy the kid x nurse! reader

nurse! reader is in denial of her feelings for Billy, until he finally asks her on their first date

Your eyes peer towards the bouquet of flowers placed on the counter, one of the many that Billy had gifted you.

“That one sure is relentless isn’t he?”, asks Margie, the owner of the town’s local bakery. She had suffered from a minor burn as a result of taking her muffins out of the oven without mittens.

You look towards the flowers that Billy has gifted you just the day before. Red roses that he had hand picked himself. You remember that day, he came in insisting he needed the attention of a nurse (yours of course) because of the splinter he had got from one of the rose thorns pricking his finger.

“Yeah well Billy’s in here a lot, always getting himself banged up that one. I’m sure he sent those roses as some sort of thank you gift”.

“Mhmm.. sure”, Margie hums. “I don’t think he meant is as just a thank you gift, maybe more like a please finally notice me gift ”. Or perhaps a please go out with me gift”.

“Margie!”, you scold her forwardness. “As if I would ever go out with such a.. reckless fool!”

“Yeah but he’s your reckless fool”.

“He is not!! He just comes here to get his injuries tended to”. Your fingers fumbled around with the healing ointment for Margie’s burn. Thinking about Billy usually has that effect on you, actions that were usually precise and clean became wrinkled and sloppy. Oh he just had to go and mess up everything didn’t he?!

“Honey he’s here at least every other day, and I’m pretty sure he’s capable of taking care of a paper cut or a scratch on his own”, Margie teases, “Oh you’re in looooveee”.

“I am not!!!!”, you huff rubbing the ointment on her burn a little too aggressively. “How could I be in love with him? He's such an ass! Always wastin’ my time with these made up injuries.”

Margie smiles at your defiance. “He just wants your attention. Give the boy a break, hes clearly not the creative type”.

“The burn mark is lookin’ better. Just put this ointment on it for the next few days”. Your hands were shaking as you handed Margie the small bottle, thoughts of Billy and his foolish nature making a home in your mind. Okay so maybe you did like him, and maybe you did find his desperate excuses of “injuries” he would make up just to see you charming.

———————————————————————

The next morning, you were slow in opening the nurse’s office. It seemed like it would be an easy day, the townsfolk didn’t seem too rowdy today which meant less injuries to tend to. Of course you spoke too soon.

“Don’t tell me I’m the first patient of the day?”, Billy asks following the chime of the door closing. “Well lucky for you I don’t got anything too severe, just some sort of sickness”.

“Sickness? What are your symptoms?” You sit him down on the clinic’s bed.

“Symptoms? Oh just a racing of the heart and butterflies in my stomach. One could say that I’m.. lovesick”.

You scoff immediately pulling him back on his feet. “Oh you’re fine! Dramatic as always…”

“No no I’m bein’ serious!!”, Billy chuckles using himself as an obstacle as he stood in front you. You always huffed and walked away whenever he got on your nerves, Billy thought it was adorable.

Deep down you loved his overly-pathetic attempts to court you. “Well if it’s so “serious” then what do you think the cure is hm?”

Billy smiles, slowly bringing you closer. “I think I would be cured if a pretty gal agreed to go on a date with me. Oh look.. here’s one right now. Think you can help me darlin’?”

“Hm.. I suppose I could. What sort of nurse would I be if I didn’t do everything I could for your recovery?” If you were less resilient , you wouldn’t have moved away when he tried to kiss you. “Save that for the date”, you say cheekily.

“ ‘F course”, he slurs. Billy was pathetically enamored by you, and now that you were this close to him he was sure he felt himself being faint.

“Just so you know, don’t expect me to bandage any of your wounds on this date of ours”.

“Aw sweetheart the only wound that’ll need mendin’ will be my heart if you break it”, Billy teases.

“As if I would do such a thing!”, you scoff playfully. You weren’t going to let this man feel the touch of another woman ever again, well unless she was you of course.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x nurse! reader #billy the kid tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid imagine

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hearts4sturn · 2 days ago

Text

CAUGHT IN A LIE – MATT STURNIOLO

pairing: heartthrob!matt x fem!reader synopsis: y/n was forced to attend a fraternity party after losing a bet to her friend. she was awkward—never quite sure how to handle parties like this. when a guy (who clearly couldn’t take a hint) kept flirting with her, she found herself unable to say no. matt, thinking he was doing her a favor, stepped in and claimed they were dating. but word spread fast around the university, leaving them no choice but to keep up the lie. warnings: lowercase intended, angst, alcohol, mentions of sex

masterlist | series masterlist

TWO: LIES

the following days after were absolute hell. no exaggeration. everywhere i went, i could feel eyes on me, hear the murmurs that never quite faded, always lingering just out of reach but loud enough to remind me that people were talking. and the worst part? they weren’t even subtle about it.

if i turned my back? whispers. if i walked by a group of people? whispers. if i so much as existed in a room for more than five seconds? whispers. it was exhausting. seriously, what the hell? we’re literally seniors in university, grown adults on the verge of entering the real world, and yet they still find joy in gossiping like we’re stuck in some high school drama. grow up.

but what really got to me—what really settled into my bones like an uncomfortable itch i couldn’t scratch—was the fact that i hadn’t seen matt since the night of the party. not once. before that night, he was just one of those people i’d run into from time to time. whether i was studying at my usual spot in the local cafe or making my way across campus for class, he was always just... there. sometimes alone, sometimes surrounded by his friends, but always there. and now? nothing. it was like he had vanished into thin air.

at first, i told myself it was a coincidence. campus was big, and it wasn’t like we shared classes or anything. but as the days passed, the absence started to feel intentional. like he was actively avoiding me. like maybe—just maybe—he was ashamed to be caught up in a rumor with me.

that thought made something in my chest twist uncomfortably. not that i cared, obviously. it’s not like i wanted him to be around. it’s not like i kept looking for him in places i knew he usually was. not at all.

with a sigh, i snapped my notebook shut, stuffing it into my backpack and swinging the strap over my left shoulder. i needed to stop thinking about this. matt didn’t matter. the rumors didn’t matter. i just needed to focus on school–to study and get my degree.

"eve? i’m gonna head to class now! i’ll be back in a couple hours!" i called out, slipping on my adidas sambas and adjusting the strap of my bag.

"alright! don’t let the gossipers get to you too much!" evelyn called back, her voice light but knowing.

"yeah, yeah," i muttered, rolling my eyes before stepping out of our dorm room, bracing myself for another long day of ignoring the noise.

as i made my way across campus to my anatomy class, the crisp morning air did little to shake off the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. i had stayed up way too late the night before, cramming for my biochem test next week, and now, i was running on nothing but willpower and the promise of caffeine.

so, naturally, i made a detour to my favorite coffee shop, the one place that had fueled countless late-night study sessions and saved me from more than a few academic breakdowns. the smell of freshly brewed espresso and vanilla hit me the moment i stepped inside, a welcome comfort against the chaos of my schedule.

as i slid into the line, my mind wandered, my fingers absentmindedly tapping against the strap of my backpack. but then, just as i was settling into the peaceful rhythm of the cafe, i heard it—whispers.

not just any whispers. my name. and matt’s.

“…they’re still together?”

“probably, but i still haven’t seen them together since the party…”

i exhaled sharply, rolling my eyes as i shifted my weight from one foot to the other. seriously, how had this rumor gotten so out of hand? it had started as a tiny spark, something barely worth acknowledging, and now it had spread like wildfire. the whispers followed me around campus, no matter where i went, as if my personal life had somehow turned into everyone else’s favorite mystery to unravel.

eventually, the line inched forward, and i finally reached the counter. the moment i locked eyes with the barista, a familiar grin spread across her face.

“y/n! you’re back!” scarlett, one of my favorite baristas, greeted me warmly. “let me guess—your usual?”

this coffee shop had become my second home during exam season, and after countless hours spent hunched over textbooks and laptop screens in the corner booth, i had gotten to know the staff pretty well. scar, in particular, always seemed to be working whenever i came in, and over time, we’d built a sort of friendly rapport.

“hey, scar!” i greeted, returning her smile. “actually, can i get a medium iced white chocolate mocha with whip today?”

“switching it up, huh?” she teased as she tapped my order into the register.

“figured i’d live a little,” i joked, pulling out my wallet.

“love that for you,” she chuckled. “is that all?”

i nodded, and she spun the screen toward me.

“$5.48.”

i tapped my card against the reader, the soft beep signaling the transaction had gone through.

“you’re all set!” she said cheerfully.

“thanks, scar,” i replied before making my way to one of the tables, sitting down in the wooden chair.

i scrolled mindlessly through my phone, my thumb moving automatically as i tapped through the endless parade of instagram stories. some of my classmates were out at parties, their nights filled with loud music and flashing lights. others posted funny reels, the kind that always seemed to go viral no matter how many times you’d seen them. and then there were the perfectly curated photos—overexposed, with soft pastel colors and just the right amount of "effortless" aesthetic. it was all noise, just a blur of images and videos. but for some reason, i couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t pull myself away. my brain was numb, absorbed in the flickering images on the screen, none of it real. none of it felt like it had anything to do with me.

i was so caught up in my scrolling that when i felt a tap on my shoulder, the sudden touch startled me, and i jumped, my heart thudding in my chest.

"y/n?" a voice asked from behind me.

i froze for a second, blinking up in surprise, and turned around to see matt standing there, his expression a little hesitant but familiar.

"matt? you scared me!" i said, my hand instinctively going to my chest, as if trying to calm the racing heartbeat he’d just triggered.

he chuckled, his lips curving into a soft, apologetic smile. "sorry," he said, his voice light, though i could see the awkwardness creeping into his eyes.

the air between us felt thick, like we were both waiting for the other to say something—anything. i tried to smile, but it came out more nervous than i intended. "sooo…" i started, the word hanging in the air like an awkward balloon.

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes briefly dropping to the floor before meeting mine again. "we should probably talk… shouldn’t we?" he said, his voice low, like it was more of a statement than a question.

i nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. what was this about? why now? why was the world suddenly so loud, so heavy with this unspoken tension between us?

just as the silence stretched on, i heard a voice calling from across the room. "for y/n?"

i turned to see scarlett standing there, a cup in her hand, her eyebrow quirked with that familiar playful look she always had when she was teasing me.

"thanks, scar," i said, grateful for the interruption, even if just for a moment. i grabbed the drink from her hand, offering a smile that i hoped looked less strained than i felt.

i checked the time on my phone: 10:47 am. crap. i was going to be late if i didn’t leave soon.

i looked back at matt, still feeling the weight of the conversation hanging between us. "um, i have to get to class," i said, my voice awkward as i tried to break the tension. "but… do you want to put your number in my phone so we can talk later?"

he didn’t hesitate. he nodded, taking my phone from my hands without a word. his fingers moved quickly, typing something into the screen with the same fluid confidence he always seemed to have. it was like he was used to these kinds of exchanges, while i was overanalyzing every second of it.

he handed the phone back to me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment longer than necessary.

"i’ll text you when i’m free," i said, taking the phone back from his hand, feeling a slight warmth spread across my face. "see you later."

without waiting for a response, i turned quickly, already feeling the pull of time and the pressure of getting to class before i was officially late. the door swung open in front of me, and i stepped outside, trying to shake off the strange feeling in my chest. my mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other. what did it all mean? why had he come over and talked to after he “went missing” for like a week? was this just some casual exchange, or was there something more to it?

but right now, there was no time to think. class was waiting. and i had to face whatever this was when i had the chance.

finally, my last class of the day ended. the usual shuffle of students filled the hallways, some rushing out to get to their next class or head home, others hanging around, lingering in small groups as the day slowly wound down. i should’ve been relieved that the day was finally over, but instead, i felt like the hours had stretched on too long. maybe it was because i’d known all day that i had to text matt.

it wasn’t a matter of whether or not i should reach out—it was more like i had no choice. there was too much noise building up, too many whispers circulating between us. the rumors had started, and i’d been avoiding the inevitable. no one had said anything outright, but i could feel the weight of their looks, the hushed tones whenever we crossed paths. people talked. it wasn’t that they were saying anything terrible, but the implication was clear. no one really understood what was going on between us, and honestly, neither did i.

i pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts. matt’s name was toward the top, and for a moment, i just stared at it. i’m not sure why, i just felt hesitant to text him. eventually, i finally grew the courage to text him.

(ignore the time stamp !!)

thirty minutes. that’s all i had until i was meeting matt again. i checked the time on my phone and sighed. it was probably best to put my things down, maybe take a breath before i saw him. i grabbed my bag from the chair next to me and swung it over my shoulder. yeah, i needed to get back to my dorm.

the walk back didn’t take long, just about fifteen minutes, but it felt like the world was moving in slow motion as i made my way down the sidewalk. the usual buzz of campus was still there, people walking between buildings, chatting in small groups, but i felt disconnected from it all. it was like everything had quieted down, and all that was left was this one conversation hanging over me.

when i finally made it back to the dorm, i let out a quiet sigh as i dropped my backpack on the floor. the sound of the door shutting behind me seemed louder than usual, and it only reminded me of how much i had been avoiding this all day.

"y/n! you’re back!" evelyn’s voice called from the kitchen, her cheerfulness cutting through the tension in the room.

"yeah," i replied, pushing my shoes off. "but i’m gonna leave again soon. meeting matt."

she appeared in the doorway with a smile, setting down the mug she’d been holding. "oh, good luck!" she said with a playful salute, her grin widening.

i couldn't help but laugh at her dramatic pose. "thanks, eve. i think i’ll need it."

i walked over to my vanity, running a brush through my hair, feeling the weight of the day settle into my bones. nothing too major, just a quick touch-up. i wasn’t trying to look perfect, just not like a hot mess.

"m’kay, i’m gonna head out now," i said, standing up and grabbing my wallet, keys, and phone. "i’ll be back soon."

"bye, y/n! good luck again!" evelyn called after me, and i waved over my shoulder as i stepped out.

the air outside was cooler than i expected, but it was still a nice change from the warm dorm room. as i walked to the café, i couldn’t help but replay the conversation in my mind. we hadn’t really talked since the rumors started. not directly, anyway. he’d avoided me, and i’d done the same. we were both guilty of letting things get weird.

when i finally reached the café, i was about five minutes early. the place wasn’t crowded, just a few people typing away on their laptops or chatting quietly. i scanned the room, and then i saw him—matt, sitting in the corner with his back slightly turned to the door. he looked up as i approached, catching my eye for just a moment before he smiled and waved me over.

i made my way to the table and sat down across from him.

"hey," i said, offering a small smile.

he nodded, his expression neutral but still somehow friendly, like we were both trying to figure out how to pick up a conversation that had been paused for too long. "hey," he replied. his voice was calm, but there was something in the air between us—something unsaid, something that lingered.

we sat there for a second, neither of us speaking, and it felt oddly like the first time we’d ever met. all that tension from before, the rumors, the weirdness—it was all right there, and we both knew it. but neither of us had the perfect words to start.

finally, he broke the silence, his gaze a little more serious now. "so," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "about all the stuff people are saying..."

i nodded, my fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table. "yeah. i figured we should talk about it. clear the air, or whatever."

"well, about that," matt said, his lips curling into a cheeky grin. "i was actually thinking of something else..."

something else? my mind immediately went into overdrive, trying to figure out what exactly he meant. this wasn’t the conversation i’d expected. i was sitting here, nervously shifting my leg under the table, waiting for him to say something along the lines of ‘no, we’re not dating, it’s all a misunderstanding’. honestly, that would’ve been so much easier. we could’ve just brushed it off, cleared the air, and gone on with our lives. no one would be any the wiser.

but matt didn’t look like he was about to say that. no, he was looking at me with that look in his eyes—the one that said he was about to say something totally unexpected.

"what are you thinking of?" i asked, my voice a little tighter than i wanted it to be. i couldn’t help it. this whole situation was starting to feel like a slow burn, and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for whatever was coming next.

he leaned forward a little, his hands resting on the table as he gave me a look that was almost too casual for the situation. "okay, hear me out. the rumor’s already spread so much—i mean, legit, everyone is already whispering about it, right? it’s gonna be nearly impossible to shut it down now. and, honestly, ever since the rumors started, i’ve had so many girls stop bothering me. which, not gonna lie, is pretty peaceful."

i blinked, a little taken aback. this was… not what i expected. what did he mean, "stop bothering me"?

but before i could process it, he continued, the hopeful look in his eyes not fading even a little. "so, i was wondering..." he trailed off, leaving the words hanging between us. i could feel my pulse quicken, my brain trying to keep up. "if we could just... keep up the rumor?"

i stared at him, certain i hadn’t heard that correctly. keep up the rumor? what was he talking about? was he asking me to go along with it?

he leaned back in his chair slightly, watching me closely, waiting for some kind of reaction. it felt like everything had stopped for a moment, and my mind couldn’t seem to catch up.

"wait," i said, finally finding my voice. "you want us to... keep pretending? that we’re actually dating?"

he shrugged, his expression casual but his eyes still holding that same hopeful intensity. "well, yeah. i mean, it’s already out there, right? why not take advantage of it?"

take advantage of it? the idea felt wrong on so many levels, but at the same time, i couldn’t deny that there was a strange logic to it. the rumor was already so out of control, there was no way to shut it down now. and if it made matt’s life easier—if it made people stop bothering him—maybe it wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

still, something didn’t sit right with me.

"you’re serious?" i asked, my voice quieter now. "you think this is a good idea?"

he nodded, a little too eagerly for my liking. "yeah. think about it. it’s a win-win. no one bothers us, we get some peace and quiet, and maybe people will stop whispering." he paused, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "and maybe we can have a little fun with it. i mean, no one’s gonna know, right?"

i stared at him for a moment, trying to process it all. he was asking me to go along with something fake. something that didn’t exist—except for in the minds of everyone who had heard the rumors. but the more i thought about it, the more i realized that maybe it wasn’t such a simple question of what was right or wrong. it was more like—what was the harm?

"so, we just keep this going? like we’re actually a thing?"

he raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my hesitation. "yeah, exactly. it’s just a little act. no one needs to know what’s really going on between us. we can keep it low-key, but it’ll keep the peace. you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. just... play along."

his words left me in a strange place, torn between the part of me that wanted to put a stop to the whole thing and the part that thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. it wasn’t real, but it felt like it would give us some breathing room.

i let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle over me. could i really do this? could i go along with a lie—just to make things easier for both of us?

"i don’t know, matt," i said, shaking my head slightly. "this feels… weird."

he nodded, understanding in his eyes. "yeah, i get it. but think about it. we won’t be the first people to fake something for convenience. it could just be temporary. and when it blows over, we can drop it."

i didn’t answer immediately. part of me was still skeptical, still not sure about the idea of playing along with something that wasn’t real. but another part of me—one that was tired of the rumors, of the awkwardness—felt like it might be worth considering.

"i need to think about it," i said, finally. "this is a lot to take in."

he smiled, a bit more relaxed now. "yeah, of course. take your time. i’m not going anywhere."

wc: 3.4k author's note: hai i’m bored dividers: @toastray

taglist: @courta13 @tits4matt @backwardshatnick @emely9274 @mattspillowprincess

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