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paxaz535 · 2 months ago

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The Space Between Us (1)

paige bueckers x black!oc

synopsis :

Best friends since childhood, Kamiya and Paige always thought their bond was unbreakable. But when they reunite at the family cabin after years apart, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. As the tension between them builds, they must face what they’ve always known deep down: they’ve been more than close all along.

(this contains smut [in next chapter] !)

—————

Kamiya and Paige had always been close—ever since they were five years old, playing together in the sandbox in Paige’s backyard.

Their fathers, Bob (Paige’s dad) and Jonathan (Kamiya’s dad), had been best friends since high school. They bonded over their shared love of basketball and had been inseparable ever since.

That love for the game carried on to Paige, who practically grew up with a ball in her hands. Kamiya, not so much. She was always more into volleyball than anything else. Bob and Jonathan tried getting her into basketball, but it just never stuck.

Still, Jonathan supported his daughter through it all—especially after Kamiya’s mom walked out on them one random Thursday night.

Ever since that night, things had changed. Kamiya didn’t talk about her mom much—not because she didn’t care, but because she had learned not to expect answers. Jonathan picked up the pieces the best he could, and Paige’s family helped fill in the gaps.

Sleepovers became more frequent. Paige’s step mom would braid Kamiya’s hair and pack her snacks for school when Jonathan had to work late. To Kamiya, the Bueckers’ house started to feel like a second home.

By the time middle school came around, Kamiya and Paige were more like sisters than friends. They did everything together—sat next to each other in every class, FaceTimed every night even when they had just seen each other, and had inside jokes that nobody else understood.

People used to say they were attached at the hip. And for a long time, they were.

But then high school happened.

At first, not much changed. They still walked to school together, still sat next to each other at lunch, still sent each other outfit pics every morning to coordinate. But little things started to creep in—new friends, different classes, separate teams.

Paige made varsity basketball her freshman year. It was a big deal. Suddenly, she was surrounded by older teammates, practices every afternoon, and the buzz of school recognition. Kamiya was proud of her—she really was—but it stung a little to see less of her.

Kamiya had joined the volleyball team, and while she loved it, it didn’t get nearly as much attention. Her games were barely half full, and no one was writing about her in the school newsletter. Paige always said, “You’re killing it out there,” but sometimes it felt like she was just being nice.

They were still close. Still best friends. But there were moments—between texts left on read, and the “sorry I can’t, I have practice”—where Kamiya wondered if Paige was outgrowing her.

And then came the real test: boys.

Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Paige had never really shown much interest. Sure, she’d play along when the other girls gushed about whoever was “so fine” in third period, but Kamiya always noticed how quiet she got when the conversation got too deep.

Kamiya, on the other hand, was trying to figure it all out. She’d dated a guy in freshman year for about two weeks—Derrick, from biology—but it felt more like checking a box than actually liking someone. She laughed at his jokes, let him hold her hand in the hallway, but when he kissed her outside the gym after practice, all she could think was, Is that it?

Meanwhile, Paige seemed perfectly content not dating at all. When Kamiya brought it up once—just teasing, like: “So, when are you finally gonna get yourself a boyfriend?”—Paige had only shrugged, looking away.

“I don’t really like boys like that.”

Kamiya had blinked, caught off guard. “Oh.” She tried to play it cool, but her mind spun.

She’d never thought about it before. Not really. But that night, lying in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about Paige specifically—at least, not yet—but about how she’d felt when this girl from the volleyball team had called her pretty the other day. How her stomach flipped in a way it never did with Derrick.

Something was shifting.

And even though Kamiya didn’t have the words for it yet, a small part of her—buried deep and quiet—was starting to stir.

It started with the little things.

The way Paige would laugh so hard she’d throw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. The way she always remembered to bring Kamiya extra sour gummy worms on game days, even though she hated the smell of them. The way she always seemed to know when something was off, even when Kamiya hadn’t said a word.

One Friday night, they were at Paige’s house watching a movie. It was some cheesy rom-com they’d seen a million times, but Paige insisted it was tradition. They sat close—closer than usual—legs tangled under the blanket they always shared.

Halfway through the movie, Paige fell asleep. Her head rested on Kamiya’s shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Kamiya didn’t move. She just sat there, completely still, heart thudding in her chest.

She looked down at Paige, her face relaxed in sleep, and for the first time, she realized something terrifying.

She didn’t just love Paige.

She liked her.

Not in a best friend kind of way. Not in the way everyone joked about when they called them “a married couple.”

In the way that made her heart ache a little. In the way that made her scared to say it out loud.

She stared at the TV, not really seeing it anymore. Her throat felt tight.

Because what if this was just her?

What if Paige didn’t feel the same way?

What if it ruined everything?

Kamiya gently leaned her head on Paige’s, trying to quiet the storm in her chest.

She didn’t have the answers yet.

But she knew one thing for sure:

Something had changed.

The next morning, Kamiya acted like nothing had happened.

She cracked jokes, scrolled through TikTok with Paige like usual, and even teased her for drooling in her sleep. But inside, she was spiraling.

She kept replaying the night in her head—the weight of Paige’s head on her shoulder, the soft warmth of her breath, the way her heart had nearly exploded just sitting there.

And it only got worse from there.

At school, Paige was all smiles, greeting people in the hallway, dapping up her teammates, laughing with that same effortless energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. But Kamiya couldn’t stop watching her. Couldn’t stop feeling everything.

It was torture.

Especially when Paige hugged her from behind in the cafeteria like she always did—only now Kamiya felt her entire body freeze. Her brain screamed, Act normal.

She didn’t.

Paige noticed. “You good?” she asked later, brows furrowed as they sat outside during free period.

“Yeah,” Kamiya lied, eyes on her water bottle. “Just tired.”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Kamiya shrugged. “You’re weird every day. Guess it’s contagious.”

Paige rolled her eyes, laughing. But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The thing was, Kamiya didn’t know how to say what she was feeling. Didn’t know how to ask Paige if maybe—just maybe—there was something there between them too.

Because if she was wrong, it could ruin everything.

And for the first time in years, she felt like the distance between them was growing—and she didn’t know how to close it.

It happened at a party.

One of Paige’s teammates—Jas—was throwing a huge end-of-season thing. Kamiya didn’t even want to go, but Paige had begged her to come. “Please? Just for a little bit. I’ll even buy you your weird kombucha.”

So she went. Regretted it the second they walked in.

The music was loud. The lights were dim. And Paige? She lit up the second they walked through the door, dapping up her team, laughing, moving through the room like she belonged there.

Then there was her.

Nia. A sophomore who played soccer and looked like she belonged in a Nike ad. She and Paige had a class together—or so Kamiya had heard.

She watched from across the room as Nia leaned in, too close, whispering something into Paige’s ear. Paige laughed, hand brushing Nia’s arm.

Kamiya looked away fast, pretending not to care. Pretending she didn’t feel like someone had lit a match in her chest.

“I’m getting some air,” she mumbled to no one in particular, slipping out the back door.

She stayed out there for a while, letting the cold bite at her skin. Letting herself breathe.

Paige came out eventually, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kamiya said, a little too fast. “Just needed some space.”

Paige nodded, but didn’t push. That almost made it worse.

“I got accepted!” Kamiya screamed, practically launching off the couch as the email loaded on her phone.

Jonathan, Bob, Paige, Drew, and Moe all erupted into cheers from around the living room. Jonathan pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, his face split into the proudest grin she’d ever seen.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Knew you had it in you.”

Paige was the next to hug her—tight, warm, familiar.

“I told you!” Paige beamed. “I knew they’d want you.”

Kamiya laughed, still in shock. “Guess I’m college material now, huh?”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve always been.”

Kamiya’s acceptance came just a day after Paige found out she was headed to UConn on a partial basketball scholarship. Everyone had celebrated her news too—Jonathan and Bob had cracked open a bottle of champagne, and Moe had baked cupcakes with “UConn” spelled out in blue frosting.

Kamiya had been genuinely happy for her. Paige was going to a school that fit her. She’d be playing the sport she loved, living in a place where she could finally shine. It was perfect.

But there was a part of Kamiya—a quiet, insecure part—that wondered what it would mean for them.

They wouldn’t be at the same school. They wouldn’t walk the same hallways or eat lunch under the same tree anymore. It wouldn’t be FaceTime at midnight after a bad practice—it’d be maybe catching each other’s texts between classes or team meetings.

And what made it worse was… they still hadn’t talked about that night. The party. The way Kamiya had walked off. The way Paige had looked at her, confused, maybe even hurt.

So Kamiya smiled and celebrated like nothing was bothering her.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through her fingers.

Kamiya’s three years of college had been everything she hoped for. She made new friends, joined a cultural org that felt like family, traveled for tournaments with her volleyball team, and even landed a sweet internship sophomore year. She was proud of the woman she was becoming—confident, steady, doing things for her.

But this time of year always pulled her back.

It was May now. Finals were almost over. Her junior year was closing out, and soon she’d be stepping into her final year of undergrad. A part of her was thrilled—excited for what was ahead. But another part, quieter and heavier, kept tugging her back to something… someone.

Paige.

She hadn’t seen her in person since last summer. She’d heard about the injury—a torn ligament, maybe? Something that benched her for most of the season. Kamiya found out through Instagram before she heard it from Paige directly. That stung a little.

They still texted sometimes. Liked each other’s posts. Sent the occasional meme. But it wasn’t like before. Not even close.

And maybe that was okay. People grow apart.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

What haunted Kamiya most wasn’t the distance. It was the fact that she never told Paige how she felt. Not really. Not in a way that counted.

She could’ve said it a hundred times. At that party. Before they left for college. At the lake last summer by the fire, when Paige looked at her like she knew.

But she hadn’t. And now, she didn’t know if that window had already closed.

Still… something about this summer felt different.

It was just a feeling—an ache in her gut, a whisper in the back of her mind—but Kamiya knew.

Something was going to happen.

She just didn’t know if it would heal her…

Or break her completely.

Kamiya sat on the edge of her bed, her suitcase open but barely touched. Clothes were piled on the floor around her—sweatshirts she might need if it got chilly, the swimsuit Paige once joked she looked hot in, and an old T-shirt Paige had left behind years ago that Kamiya never returned.

She stared at it now, fingers brushing over the faded cotton.

There were a thousand things she wished she could say. She wanted to tell Paige she missed her. That she was proud of her. That the distance hadn’t changed how she felt—not really.

But those words had stayed stuck in her throat for three years.

Now she was going to see her again.

And it scared her.

Not just because of what she might feel—but because of what she might not feel. What if too much time had passed? What if Paige didn’t even think about her like that anymore—if she ever did?

Still, she packed the shirt. Just in case.

The driveway crunched under the tires as she pulled up, late afternoon sun dripping through the trees. Her chest was tight.

As she stepped out, the smell of pine and lake water hit her like a memory. She heard voices from the porch—laughter, low conversation, the familiar warmth of family that hadn’t changed.

Then she saw her.

Paige.

Sitting on the porch steps, wearing an oversized hoodie, her joggers hanging low on her waist. Her hair was longer now, tied in a messy bun. But her smile—when she looked up and saw Kamiya—was still the same.

Kamiya froze for half a second, unsure what to do with everything crashing through her.

Then Paige stood—slowly, carefully—and walked over.

“Three years and you still pack like you’re moving across the country,” she teased, eyeing Kamiya’s giant duffel.

Kamiya grinned, nerves tangled in her chest. “Some things never change.”

Paige’s eyes held hers for just a moment longer than they needed to. “Some things do.”

Kamiya’s heart skipped.

The words weren’t loud.

But the meaning behind them?

Louder than ever.

Kamiya was woken up by a huge splash of water. She shot up, gasping as the freezing cold soaked through her shirt and bonnet.

Laughter and hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Go! G—go!”

She didn’t need to see them to know who it was—Drew and Paige.

Kamiya sat there for a moment, stunned, water dripping down her face. She knew they didn’t mean any harm by it—but come on. Waking her up with water? When she hadn’t asked to get wet? It pissed her off.

She jumped up with a loud scream, startling Bob and Jonathan, who were casually watching a random Lakers game on the living room couch.

Her bonnet clung to her head, soaked through. Her hair—freshly washed the night before—was completely drenched again.

“Paige! Drew!” she yelled, stomping down the stairs.

The two culprits were lounging on the couch chairs, feigning innocence.

“Why are you screaming?” Jonathan asked, turning his head, clearly confused.

“They poured water on me!” Kamiya snapped.

Paige and Drew exchanged a look. “No we didn’t—” Drew started.

“Don’t lie to me, Drew,” Kamiya cut in sharply.

That’s when she realized what she was wearing.

She looked down and groaned. The white sleep shirt she had on was now see-through, clinging to her like a second skin. Her red bra was very visible, and the soaked fabric hugged her curves like a compression top.

Moe was the first to notice, letting out a soft giggle as she covered her mouth. “Sweetie, you might want to go change.”

Kamiya closed her eyes and sighed, this whole morning already going to shit.

Paige looked up at her—and instantly turned pink.

Her eyes darted away too quickly, like she’d seen too much and wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Moe, you possibly couldn’t have brought weave.. could you?” Moe, already knowing just laughed.

“I have it, sweetie. We can start on your braids when you get changed.”

Kamiya didn’t say another word. She just spun around and stormed back upstairs, muttering curses under her breath.

Upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, Kamiya sat cross-legged on a stool while Moe stood behind her, parting her hair with practiced fingers.

The soft pull of the comb, the gentle tap of Moe’s rings brushing her scalp—it all slowly started to calm her down.

“I swear,” Kamiya muttered, wincing as Moe gripped a stubborn section, “they think they’re so funny.”

“They’re just trying to get under your skin,” Moe said, amused. “That means they missed you.”

Kamiya rolled her eyes, even though a tiny part of her knew Moe was probably right. Still—water?

As Moe started the first braid, the smell of bacon and toast drifted up through the cracked bedroom door. Kamiya’s stomach growled on instinct.

Moe smirked. “Smells like guilt.”

Downstairs, Paige flipped another pancake, trying to act cool while internally panicking. “Is this too much syrup?” she asked, holding the bottle over a plate.

Drew looked at her, unimpressed. “You’ve poured it like five times already.”

“I just—she’s mad, Drew.”

“She should be! You soaked her like she was in a car wash,” he said, smacking her hand away from the syrup. “Just focus on the eggs.”

“I’m trying, okay?” Paige muttered, cheeks still flushed.

Back upstairs, Moe’s fingers moved quickly through Kamiya’s hair.

“You know,” she said gently, “there’s always a moment during braids where you gotta sit still and let yourself breathe. Might as well use the time to figure out what’s really bothering you.”

Kamiya didn’t respond at first. She stared out the window, watching the lake shimmer in the distance.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said. “And maybe… a little annoyed she looked at me like that.”

Moe raised a brow. “Like what?”

Kamiya hesitated, then sighed. “Like she saw something she wasn’t ready to see.”

Moe smiled to herself, fingers still moving. “Or maybe she saw something she’s just now realizing she likes seeing.”

Downstairs, Paige carefully placed a plate with pancakes, eggs, and turkey bacon on a tray. Drew added a glass of orange juice.

“She’s gonna throw this at us,” he whispered.

“She won’t,” Paige said, unsure.

They started up the stairs, holding the tray like it was a peace offering made of gold.

Upstairs, Kamiya sat quietly while Moe worked through her hair, parting and braiding each section with care. The gentle pull of the comb and the quiet hum of Moe’s voice were grounding—but her mind was still spinning.

She wasn’t even that mad anymore. Just… embarrassed. Caught off guard.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

“Uh… Kamiya?” Paige’s voice came gently, almost unsure.

Kamiya glanced over her shoulder. Paige stood in the doorway holding a tray, and Drew lingered behind her, both of them looking a little too nervous for comfort.

“We made you breakfast,” Paige said, her tone lighter now. “Kind of an apology-slash-peace-offering.”

Drew held up a mug like it was a trophy. “And coffee.”

Kamiya looked at them for a second, then at the tray. Pancakes, eggs, turkey bacon. Her stomach growled at the sight—and Paige heard it, a flicker of a smile pulling at her lips.

Moe gave Kamiya’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Smells good. You should eat before I finish the back.”

Kamiya exhaled, her walls softening. “I wasn’t that mad,” she said quietly, eyes shifting between them. “Just… surprised. I had just washed my hair.”

Paige nodded, her face full of guilt. “I know. I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry, Kami.”

Drew nodded too. “Same here. It was supposed to be funny, but we messed up.”

Kamiya gave a small shrug and glanced at the tray. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she mumbled, reaching slowly for the fork.

“We wanted to,” Paige said, her voice soft. “Especially me.”

Their eyes met—just for a second. It held longer than either expected.

Kamiya looked away first, trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay,” she said, finally taking a bite. “This is good.”

Paige visibly relaxed, laughing a little. “Thank God. I was one burnt pancake away from giving up.”

Moe chuckled behind them. “And that’s why I stay in my lane.”

Kamiya giggled softly, chewing her food, her mood lighter now. “You’re lucky this is good,” she said, pointing her fork at Drew and Paige. “Next time y’all do something dumb, I’m pouring water back.”

“Fair,” Drew said with a grin.

Paige smiled. But hers lingered a bit longer, watching Kamiya with something more in her eyes. Something gentle. Unspoken.

And for once, Kamiya didn’t look away too fast.

The sun had started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden hue across the lake. The water shimmered, rippling softly from the occasional breeze. It was peaceful—so much calmer than the chaos of this morning.

Kamiya sat on the dock with her feet dangling just above the surface, her braids freshly done and pulled back in a loose ponytail. She hugged her knees to her chest, letting the quiet settle around her.

Footsteps approached, slow and unsure.

She didn’t need to look up to know it was Paige.

“You mind if I sit?” Paige asked softly.

Kamiya shrugged. “It’s your dock too.”

Paige eased down beside her, careful not to get too close. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of birds in the distance, water lapping against the wood, and the hush of trees swaying in the wind.

“I really am sorry,” Paige said eventually, her voice low. “Not just about the water. About… everything.”

Kamiya turned to look at her. “What do you mean, everything?”

“I mean… I know we’ve drifted. And I didn’t try hard enough to stop it. I thought maybe I was giving you space, but maybe I was just scared you didn’t want to be that close anymore.”

Kamiya blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“I never wanted to not be close,” she said. “But we were growing up. I figured you were just busy. And I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me,” Paige said quickly, her eyes locking with Kamiya’s. “Never.”

The air grew still for a moment. Their gazes held, longer this time. Kamiya’s chest tightened, heart starting to beat a little faster.

“I missed you,” Kamiya admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Paige swallowed. “I missed you too.”

There was something hanging in the air between them now—something unspoken but deeply felt.

Paige hesitated, then added, “Earlier… when your shirt was—uh, see-through…” She trailed off, cheeks already turning pink. “It wasn’t just the water that threw me off.”

Kamiya blinked. Her heart jumped.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Paige paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve always liked girls. You know that. But with you… I didn’t let myself think about it. Not really. Until today.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was electric.

Kamiya looked out over the lake again, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know what I like yet,” she said honestly. “But when you looked at me like that… it didn’t feel wrong.”

Paige turned toward her, eyes searching hers. “It didn’t?”

Kamiya shook her head. “No. It felt… different. But not wrong.”

A smile tugged at Paige’s lips. “So… maybe this summer’s gonna be different.”

Kamiya finally smiled too, soft but real. “Maybe it will.”

And for a moment, they just sat there—side by side—letting the possibility hang between them, warm and bright like the sunset behind the trees.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic

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gushhyyy · 4 months ago

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Lorena and Joshua have a close but undefined relationship. She hopes for more but doesn’t push it. After a night out, she goes to his hotel, only to find another woman there. Heartbroken, she realizes she’s been waiting for something that may never happen.

Starring: Joshua ‘Jey Uso’ Fatu x Lorena black!female!oc

1.7-1.8k words

the word nigga is used but we’re all black here tbh

Bold and italics is a flashback

---Lorena’s POV

The club was booming, the drinks were flowing, and me and the girls looked damn good standing in our section as Bianca, Liv, Trin, John, Jade, and I were sipping and getting low.

“So, sis, where your man at?” Jade said, sipping on the shiny black straw in her glass as she turned to me.

“What man I got?” I said, turning to face her on the booth, making sure my bits and pieces weren’t out due to my dress.

“Don’t let lil bro hear that,” John said, his arm around Trin, his beer in the other. Trin made an “o” motion with her mouth before making a messy face at John, then turning back to me.

“Why you playing, girl? You know he don’t play about you!” she teased, referring to when Jaida tried to check me a few months back.

Walking to my car, exhausted after defending the women’s tag team titles at NXT against some new tag team, I stood with my rolling suitcase, waiting for valet to bring my car around.

“Aye, Lorena, I need to talk to you for a minute,” I heard an echoed voice call out in the garage. Turning around, it was none other than Jaida, still in her gear with some Yeet sweatpants on.

“I wanted to give these back to Jay, but he hasn’t been answering me,” she said, handing me Jey’s favorite hoodie that he often wore and his Prada shades I got him for his birthday.

Blinking, fighting the urge to slap all the seven gates of hell out of her, I regained my composure. Ain’t no bitch ever gonna bother me.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to see him and give those back,” I said sweetly, looking at her just as smug.

“Look, you ain’t got to be jealous. I’m sure if you ask Jey, he’ll give you some,” she shrugged, curling her arms in and pressing the items to her chest.

“I don’t know who you think you are, better yet who you think I am, but that ain’t got nothing to do with me,” I said as valet approached, holding out my keys.

“And it ain’t got nothing to do with me either! Why you playing and lying like we been together?” Josh said, seemingly popping up from nowhere.

Sighing, I grabbed my keys and walked away as Joshua continued confronting Jaida. Hopping into my truck, waiting for my car to heat up, I heard a knocking on my window. It was Jey.

“Roll the window down, Lora!” he tapped as I paused, looking at him smacking his teeth. “Lora, don’t play with me.”

Scoffing and rolling the window down, not wasting a moment. “Me? Stop playing with you? You playing with your damn self, having a girl come up to me holding some shit I bought you! If you ain’t out your rabbit mind, you for sure out your donkey ass mind if you think that’s cool!” I ranted, looking into his beautiful eyes.

As he tried to reach in the car, unlocking it, I saw his shadow disappear over the front of the car before opening and unlocking my door, getting in.

“Look, Lore, it wasn’t like that. We never did anything. I just let her borrow my jacket, and those shades aren’t mine,” he rushed out before digging in his pocket, pulling out the shades.

“I don’t even let John wear or touch these. And you know how he begs! Do you really think I gave those to her or did something with her?” he asked, looking into my eyes as I suddenly felt hot at the hand he had on my leg.

“Maybe you didn’t, but what’s she coming to me for?” I asked, playing with the leather on my steering wheel.

“Because you’re my girl, and she wishes she was,” he said softly. Oh, how I loved when his voice got soft and low while still being the voice that would give me goosebumps. He began rubbing his hand up my thigh.

“You mad at me, Lora? Hm?” It was sickly sweet, the way he was talking to me, as he reached over and trailed kisses up my neck, up to my sweet spot.

“You my girl?”

I stilled, fighting the pleasure and searching for my brain—the one he always scrambled with a smile or a look. Was this just words, or were we actually trying?

---

“First of all, I don’t know how y’all know about that. And second, if it was up to me, we’d already be together—actually, a long time ago,” I said, sipping on my favorite drink.

“Well then, it’s settled. I’ll talk to Josh!” Trin said, cheesing with a little shimmy, which made me instantly shake my head in a no motion.

“Absolutely not, Trinity. Don’t stick your nose in this! Juce is a grown man with a mouth. If he wanted us to be something, we’d already be it!” The last thing I needed was Trinity’s nosey ass meddling.

“Girl, hush,” she started, waving me off. She wasn’t taking me seriously, so I knew she was just going to do it anyway.

“Trinity, I’m not playing. Please leave it alone. What Juce and I have going on is between us.” We’ve had talks about this, and it was always decided that the sex, flirting, and the somewhat dates were just that. There was no need to complicate it.

Yes, I wanted him, but I wasn’t begging him. I was just going to enjoy this for a little longer. It wasn’t like I was rushing to be in a relationship, but I did want to settle down a lot more.

“Yeah, girl, you right. How about we go get a drink? At the bar and stuff?” she said, doing a complete flip. She grabbed my hand, pulling me up, and led me to the bar.

“Are you okay? That was sudden. What’s going on?” The Trinity I knew would never let that conversation go.

“Yeah, girl, just look this way,” she rushed.

“Trin, you’re being weird,” I told her.

“Look, girl, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for pushing you. You and Juce have an understanding, and I should respect that. I am going to respect that. It’s just—I know you’ve waited for so long to get married and have kids because you wanted to do it right. I just want you to be happy,” she said sincerely, and it really made me feel better.

Sometimes it did feel like I was holding myself up for Josh. I’m twenty-eight. I’m at that sweet spot in my career. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do—for now. With my sponsorships, campaigns, my WWE schedule—it’s been a lot of back-and-forth traveling, barely having any time for myself.

I’m living all of my dreams, except one.

“Okay, enough with all this stuff. Let’s have fun,” Trin said, taking my hands and leading me to our section, where we turned up.

---

**Later at Joshua’s Hotel Room**

Taking a deep breath in, I began knocking. The door was sleek, light-washed wood in more of a boho standard. The hallways were lined with a patterned emerald green carpet on the floor.

Reaching my fist again, I knocked, standing there, my feet shifting in my So Kate’s.

What could he possibly be doing?

I only knocked once more before the door went flying open, and a taller, muscled, chocolate-skinned woman huffed in what I assumed was Jey’s shirt.

“Can you stop knocking? My nigga got work in the morning!” she said, rolling her eyes, opening the door just enough to give me a little peek inside, where, low and behold, Jey was sleeping.

Just nodding my head, I began walking down the hallway.

Damn.

#main event jey uso #jey uso x oc #jey uso fic #jey uso x reader

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ayrtonswnna · 5 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀MENTOR 〃 lewis hamilton x amala wilson (female driver!oc)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺ oneshot. fluff/slight angst/hurt/comfort; word count: 4.3K

✧ my masterlist! ✧ requests are open! ✧ more lewis!

amala and lewis' best moments as the ferrari's 2025 duo.

warnings: just soft sweet light hearted fluff, it's supposed to be very chill. not really conected to the reality at all, parents issues, slight swearing. guess that's all.

The first day in Maranello had all the grandeur you’d expect. The sun gleamed off the red of the Ferrari factory, and the hum of engines was constant in the background. It was a scene Lewis Hamilton had lived countless times before, yet today felt different. This was a new chapter, even for him. The legend, the seven-time World Champion, now stepping into the iconic red suit at 40. He was ready to lead.

Amala, on the other hand, felt the weight of her helmet even before the season had begun. Twenty-three years old, fresh from an F2 championship, and walking into a world where everything was bigger, louder, and far more intense than anything she’d known. Ferrari wasn’t just a team; it was a legacy.

Lewis caught sight of her during a team meeting. She sat quietly at the edge of the room, her shoulders squared but her hands gripping her notebook a little too tight. When it was her turn to speak, she kept it short and to the point, her voice steady but soft. Lewis smiled to himself. She reminded him of how he’d felt in his rookie days—focused but slightly unsure where to place himself.

After the meeting, he approached her casually, hands in his pockets. “Hey, Amala,” he said, his voice warm and relaxed. “You handled yourself really well in there. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his friendliness. “Oh… thanks. Yeah, it’s definitely… a lot.”

Lewis chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. And hey, if you ever need anything — advice, someone to vent to, whatever — I’m here.”

Amala nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Lewis. That… means a lot.”

“Call me Lew,” he said with a grin. “We’re teammates now, after all.”

001. “see my environment?”

The first race weekend of the season came with all the chaos and nerves Amala expected — and then some more. She finished a respectable P8, scoring points on her debut, while Lewis took P2, narrowly missing out on the win. The team was thrilled, and the paddock buzzed with energy. But as the celebrations roared on, Amala slipped away quietly to her driver’s room. Lewis watched from across the garage, in his dad’s arms shaking him excitedly while the team set the — freshly out the podium trophy for some pictures.

Amala sat on the small sofa, her head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but the emptiness of the room was a stark contrast to the noise outside. She just needed some time to let it sink in. A lot has changed over the past few moments and that’s a focused one. She never knows when it’s time to celebrate. It’s always just a break until the next fight.

A soft knock on the door made her sit up. Before she could answer, Lewis poked his head in. “Hey, mind if I come in?”

She shook her head, a little startled. “No, uh, come in.”

Lewis stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and studied her for a moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she said quickly, though her voice betrayed her. “Do you… Do you need anything?”

“No, hum… Just checking in. You sure you’re ok? You were great out there today, pretty impressive. Rookie year with that confidence? Lucky you’re my teammate.” His tone was easy, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made her chest tighten.

She is a quiet one, her presence could be unnoticed in many places. But not inside the car, Lewis is more than right. She’s a statement behind the wheel.

“Thanks,” she said softly, looking down at her hands. “It’s alright, I swear. Just keeping the focus. Haven't won anything yet. Trying to keep it down.”

Lewis nodded, understanding instantly, but obligating himself to disagree. “I get that. But… You gotta celebrate the small things too, you know? It’s good to give yourself the credits. Imagine if we get on a tight fight by the end of the season, and then… Your points from today earn us the championship?”

Amala looked up at him, her expression softening.

“That’d be crazy.” she chuckled a bit, finding fun in the near-the-impossible-possibility. Him making up scenarios just to cheer her up was funny in fact. “But no celebrating before anything like that happens — see my environment?” she looked around the empty room. “I’d rather not get ahead of myself.”

He smiled and pushed off the wall; that might be their longest casual conversation. “How about this — come have dinner with my family tonight. We do get a bit ahead of ourselves but… It’s fun anyways.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—” she started, but he held up a hand.

“No arguments. You’re coming. Besides, my niece would love you. She’s a little obsessed with fast cars.”

Amala couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Alright. Thanks, Lew.”

“Anytime,” he said with a wink before heading for the door. “See you in an hour. Don’t be late.”

002. “maybe we should change that.”

The cafeteria at the track was bustling, but Amala found a quiet corner where she could eat in peace. She had just started on her pasta when a tray plopped down across from her. It’s media day thursday, more staff, less noise. Just the good-old-garage-buzz.

“Mind if I join?” Lewis asked, already sitting down with a grin.

“Uh, sure.” she said, slightly caught off guard.

“Cool. Needed an excuse to get away from all the tech talk. Sometimes I swear they just make up words to mess with me,” he joked, twirling a forkful of food.

Amala chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard some pretty creative terms this week.”

Lewis leaned in conspiratorially. “I personally just nod and say, ‘Ah, yes, the flux capacitor.’ Works every time.”

“You’re kidding.” Amala snorted, laying back on the chair. “You don’t even know what that means, Lewis.”

“Dead serious,” he said, laughing. “And- Yeah, but they don't know that I don’t know. You’ve got a lot to learn with me, rookie.”

As they ate, Lewis kept the conversation light, sharing funny stories from his career and occasionally poking fun at himself. “I once called my engineer ‘mum’ over the radio,” he admitted. “Didn’t live that one down for months.”

Amala laughed so hard she nearly choked. “Stop, you’re making me look ridiculous.”

“Nah.” he said, leaning back with a satisfied smile. “That’s your best look, I don’t see you laughing a lot.”

“Yeah, Sir Lewis Hamilton. I am in a helmet for most of the times you see me.” she squinted her eyes, not even noticing she just built up to exactly what Lewis wanted.

“Right. You are right. Maybe we should change that.”

003. “you make it look so easy.”

The day at the karting track was meant to be a lighthearted PR event for Ferrari,even if it was all news for their second driver. The Ferrari social media team had organized a "friendly" race between her and Lewis, with enough microphones and GoPros strapped to them to make anyone nervous.

“Alright, rookie.” Lewis said, walking up to her with his helmet tucked under his arm. “You ready to lose?”

Amala raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful tone. “Confident for someone who hasn’t seen me drive a kart yet.”

Lewis grinned. “Fair. But you haven’t seen me drive one either.”

“Pretty sure I’ve seen you drive everything.” she said, rolling her eyes. “You forget you’re old, Sir.”

“Wow! Right at me!” he laughed, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Touché. But that also means I’ve got years of experience with these bad boys. You’re going down.”

They lined up on the track, and as soon as the green flag waved, Amala’s nerves gave way to her competitive instincts. She wasn’t about to let him win without a fight. Lap after lap, she stayed right on his tail, taking every opportunity to challenge him in the corners.

After crossing the finish line — Lewis barely ahead of her — he hopped out of his kart with a victorious cheer. “Still got it!” he said, raising his arms in mock celebration.

Amala unbuckled the seatbelts, shaking her head with a small smile. “You know I let you win, right?”

“Oh, is that what happened?” he teased, walking over to her. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her waist to steady her as she stepped down from the kart. “Don’t worry, next time I’ll go easy on you.”

She froze for a moment at the casual touch, but his hand fell away as quickly as it had landed. It felt natural—friendly, even. She tried not to think too much about it.

After the event wrapped up, they found themselves sitting on a bench near the track, sharing a basket of fries. “So,” Lewis said, dipping a fry into ketchup, “having fun yet?”

Amala nodded. “More than I thought I would. I guess I’m still getting used to… all of this.” She gestured vaguely to the cameras, the team, the whole Ferrari whirlwind.

“I get it,” Lewis said, leaning back. “It’s a lot, especially when you’re new. But you’re handling it like a pro.”

She hesitated before speaking. “You make it look so easy.”

Lewis shrugged. “Trust me, it wasn’t always. My first few years? I had no clue what I was doing half the time. And don’t get me started on the pressure. But it helps when you have people in your corner. Like… I don’t remember a single time I didn’t have my dad, or mom. And now with my sister’s kids… It gets easier to face things.”

Amala glanced at him, her voice soft. “That’s very sweet.” she smiled. “Not for me, though. Mom and dad are all about fighting and- Uh, I can’t even imagine what would have happened if they were around like that.” she scoffed, so comfortable by his side that it felt natural to speak. “That’s why Miss-big-girl right here handles shit alone. It works too, I swear.”

Lewis’s expression shifted, his usual easygoing smile replaced by something more thoughtful. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He paused, then added, “But you’ve got people now. The team, me… We’re here for you, Amala. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Her chest tightened at his words, but in a good way. “Thanks.” she smiled. “You really are good company- like… for a man of age? You’re doing great.”

He grinned, nudging her shoulder again. “How did you become such a meanie, dear Lord!” it’s a full laugh now. “But alright, since I am man of age… I deserve proper treatment! These fries you’ve ordered?” he takes a small one from the fries, slowly throwing at her. “Disrespectful. I know you couldn’t find any other vegan option. Simply disrespectful.”

Amala laughed, finally feeling at ease. “Noted. Next time, I’ll make sure to get something you approve of, grandpa.”

004. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

The energy after the double podium was electric. Lewis had taken P1, and Amala secured her first podium with a solid P3. The team flooded the podium with cheers, and the champagne flowed freely as they celebrated under the floodlights.

Lewis, in his element, sprayed champagne at Amala, laughing as she shrieked and tried to dodge. She retaliated, soaking him in return, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t thinking about the cameras or the pressure — just the sheer joy of the moment.

Amala barely had a second to catch her breath before Lewis was grabbing her by the wrist, a wide grin spread across his face. The champagne bottle in his other hand was already half-empty from the chaos of celebration, but that didn’t stop him from tilting it toward her.

“You’re way too dry for someone who just got a podium,” he teased, shaking the bottle again.

“Lewis, don’t you d—”

Too late. The icy spray hit her square in the chest, and she let out a loud squeal, stumbling back as he kept going, grinning like a kid causing trouble. She turned away, trying to shield herself, but he just followed, relentless.

“Alright, alright! You made your point!” she laughed, holding up her hands in surrender.

Lewis just raised an eyebrow, still aiming the bottle at her. “Nah, I don’t think I did.”

Another wave of champagne rained over her, and Amala groaned, wiping at her soaked race suit. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it,” he shot back without missing a beat, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

She wanted to shove him, to get back at him somehow, but then it all hit her — the flashing cameras, the roaring cheers, the red sea of Ferrari fans losing their minds, the sight of her name on the podium next to his. She had dreamed of this since she was a kid, since she first understood what Formula 1 was. And now she was here. Really here.

The smile was still stretched across her face, but suddenly, her throat felt tight. Her vision blurred, and before she could even think about wiping away the tears, Lewis saw them. His expression softened instantly, the teasing gone in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “Come here.”

And then she was in his arms — no hesitation, no second-guessing. He wrapped her up in the biggest hug, lifting her off the ground like she weighed nothing, spinning her in circles as the crowd cheered even louder. She let out a breathless laugh, clinging to his shoulders, tears mixing with the champagne on her face.

“You did it,” Lewis murmured against her hair, holding her tight. “You fucking did it.”

And for the first time, Amala let herself believe it.

After the podium ceremony, the team threw an afterparty, and the champagne continued to flow. Amala stuck close to Lewis, the two of them laughing and joking as the night went on. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but the bubbly made her cheeks flush and her inhibitions loosen.

“You’re a lightweight,” Lewis teased as they sat in a quieter corner of the party.

“Am not,” she argued, though her giggle betrayed her.

Lewis leaned closer, his voice softer now. “I’m serious, though. You were incredible today. You’re even allowed to get that drunk today. I won’t tell anybody.”

Amala looked down at her glass, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, thanks. I feel even more incredible being by your side, you know? No one else in the grid has this privilege, and I do… So… Yes. You are even more incredible.”

Lewis let out a soft chuckle, recognizing his teammate is a bit more tipsy than he thought. She rested her head on his shoulder, taking a breath within the silence.

“Nah… I’m just the man of age.” he kept the funny tone as he reached over, his hand brushing hers and a kiss to her head. “You are incredible by your own merits, but we can talk about it when you’re sober.”

She looked up at him, her heart racing. “Thanks, Lew. For everything.”

He smiled, his hand lingering for just a moment longer. “You don’t have to thank me. I like looking out for you.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged with something unspoken. Amala felt her breath catch as she looked into his eyes, and before she could think, she leaned in.

It started soft, almost hesitant — like they were both testing the waters, caught in the gravity of something neither of them could pull away from. Amala felt the warmth of Lewis' hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin, as if reassuring her this was real. She melted into it, her fingers curling into the fabric of his surely expensive shirt, anchoring herself as the world around them faded away.

But then, something shifted. The hesitation dissolved, replaced by something deeper, something neither of them could hold back. Lewis tilted his head, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened — slow, lingering, like they were learning each other in a way they hadn’t before. His lips were warm, coaxing, stealing the breath from her lungs as her heart pounded against her ribs.

When they finally broke apart, neither of them moved far. Lewis' forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. His eyes fluttered open, dark and searching, like he was still caught somewhere between reality and the weight of the moment.

“We should…” he started, his voice rough, a little unsteady.

But neither of them moved. Neither of them let go. “Yeah,” Amala agreed, though she didn’t move.

He chuckled softly. “You’ve had a bit to drink. Let’s… talk about this tomorrow, yeah?”

Her cheeks burned, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because I really don’t want to mess this up.”

005. “I’m taking credit for that.”

The Ferrari garage was alive with the usual buzz of preparation, the sound of drills, chatter, and engineers poring over data. Amala, for once, wasn’t hovering over her own station, overthinking setups or tire strategies. She was at the central computer station, scrolling through the playlist for the garage speakers. She’d recently learned that Lewis shared her love for Kendrick Lamar, and she was determined to pick the perfect track.

"Don’t mess this up, rookie," came his familiar, teasing voice behind her.

She turned to see Lewis strolling up, hands in his fireproofs, looking far too smug.

“Don’t worry, old man.” she shot back, trying to play it cool. “I got this.”

As she selected “HUMBLE.”, the bass-heavy opening beat dropped, and the crew collectively nodded in approval. Even Ricky, Lewis’s race engineer, gave her a thumbs-up from across the garage.

Lewis leaned over her shoulder, arms resting lightly on her back as he peeked at the screen. “Solid choice,” he murmured, his voice low near her ear.

Amala stiffened for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, but when he chuckled and gave her shoulders a playful squeeze, the tension dissolved.

“You’re way too proud of yourself,” she said, shaking her head.

He grinned. “Hey, if you’re finally loosening up in the garage, I’m taking credit for that.”

As the song played on, the crew got into the rhythm, and Ricky even started rapping along to the chorus, earning a collective laugh. Amala found herself laughing too — really laughing — as Lewis joined in, half-singing, half-mocking Ricky’s performance.

“Okay, okay, stop,” she said, holding her sides from laughing too hard. “This is a disaster.”

“Disaster?” Lewis said, pretending to be offended. “This is team bonding, Amala. You should appreciate it.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Sure, Lew. Whatever you say.”

He nudged her again, a playful glint in his eyes. “There it is… You know I love it when you smile like that.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she turned back to the screen, pretending to scroll through more songs. “Thanks… I guess.”

As casual as the moment seemed, the warmth in his voice lingered, and for the first time in weeks, the garage felt like a place she truly belonged.

006. “It’s just me.”

The days go on fast, and this time, it all happened so fast. One moment, Amala was pushing the limits in FP2, trying to get more out of the car ahead of qualifying, and the next, she was careening into the barriers. The impact rattled her, her heart pounding as the car came to a halt.

The radio crackled to life. “Amala, are you okay? Talk to us.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” she managed, though her voice was shaky.

Back in the garage, Lewis’s face tightened as he watched the replay on the monitors. He didn’t hesitate, heading straight for the trackside to check on her.

When he reached her car, she was still sitting inside, her hands gripping the steering wheel. He crouched beside the cockpit, his helmet already off, and tapped gently on the side. “Hey, sweetie,” he said softly. “It’s just me.”

Amala looked at him, her eyes wide and glassy. “I… I messed up.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You pushed. That’s what we do. Now let’s get you out of here.”

He helped her with her helmet and balaclava, his touch gentle but steady. “Take your time,” he said, fingers brushing the hair strands out of her sweaty face.

It hit like a tidal wave, it’s her first big crash in a Formula One car, and it wasn’t even a big one. Maybe it is just the scare. “I’m so sorry, Lewis. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “Don’t do that. This isn’t on you. The team’s already working on the car, and you’ll be back out there before you know it.” he offered a hand, witch she took in no time.

“But what if—”

“Amala,” he said, cutting her off again. His hands rested on her shoulders, grounding her as soon as she stood. “Look at me. You’re fine. The car will be fine. And tomorrow, you’ll remind everyone why you’re here. Got it?”

She nodded, though her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears.

Just then, someone from the team called out, “Its controlled, you guys. No big damage!”

Lewis smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “See? Told you.”

Her lips twitched into a small smile, and for a brief moment, the chaos around them faded.

As they walked back to the garage, their shoulders brushed, and there was a fleeting moment where their hands almost — almost — met. But neither of them crossed the line, not here, not now.

007. “I’m so proud of you”

It was a matter of time; everyone knew. A bond so strong could only lead the way to the trophy. Both of them.

The FIA Gala was every bit as glamorous as Amala had imagined. She stood at the entrance in a sleek black dress, feeling slightly out of place among the glitz and glamor. But when Lewis appeared at her side, offering his arm, all her nerves melted away.

“You look stunning.” he said, his eyes scanning her with an approving smile.

She laughed softly. “Had to keep up with you..”

Together, they made their way into the ballroom, their arrival causing a ripple of whispers and glances. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the Ferrari duo was close, but tonight, there was no hiding it. Lewis’s hand rested lightly on her back, guiding her through the crowd, and when they stopped to pose for photos, he held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When it came time to accept their trophies, Amala followed Lewis up the steps, the bright lights of the gala stage shining down on them. The applause was deafening, a mix of cheers from the crowd and the proud faces of their team members watching from below. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest — not in a heavy way, but in a way that made her breath hitch, like she was finally standing inside one of her own dreams.

Lewis was the first to be handed his trophy, the gold gleaming in his hands as he lifted it effortlessly, a wide grin stretched across his face. He turned to her as she was handed her own, and for a second, they just stood there, side by side, both of them holding their awards for securing the Constructors’ Championship — both of them knowing exactly what it took to get here.

Amala glanced up at him, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of it all, and Lewis met her gaze with that knowing, almost teasing smile, like he had seen this moment coming all along. Without thinking, she laughed — giddy, overwhelmed, so unbelievably happy. And then, before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped into his space.

Lewis barely hesitated. He wrapped her up in a hug just like he had on every podium throughout the whole year — tight, warm, lifting her slightly off the ground as he swayed them both side to side. The crowd loved it, the cameras flashed, but Amala didn’t care. She buried her face into his shoulder for just a second, soaking it all in.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, just for her.

She closed her eyes, gripping the trophy in one hand and holding onto him with the other. “Right back at you.”

When they finally pulled back, Lewis slung an arm around her shoulders, still grinning. “Alright, champ. Let’s celebrate.”

And as the cheers grew louder, as the night stretched on, Amala let herself believe — fully, completely — that this was just the beginning.

As they stepped off the stage, she turned to him, her voice barely audible over the applause. “We did it.”

He smiled, leaning closer. “No, you did it. This is just the beginning for you, Amala.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and when they returned to their table, she found herself lacing her fingers through his under the tablecloth.

The night ended with them sitting on the balcony, away from the noise of the party. The city lights stretched out before them, and Lewis turned to her, his expression soft. “You know,” he said, “I’ve had a lot of teammates over the years. But none of them… none of them have made me feel the way you do.”

Amala’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around his. “I’ve been on Twitter and I’ve read something about Brocedes so-”

“Don’t.” he laughed, playfully shaking her before leaning in just enough that their foreheads touched. “I mean it. You’re special, Amala. And I’m so damn proud of you.”

She closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. “I’m proud of you too. For everything.”

When their lips met this time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing — 0just the quiet certainty that this was exactly where they were meant to be.

↳ requests are open!⠀⠀↳ check my AO3!⠀⠀↳ main content's table

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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago

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Fall Break

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 4.9k

MASTERLIST

Chicago wasn't half bad. Asia had to concede that fact as Kelvin filmed the journey into the city from the airport on his cellphone.

Despite the disorienting mind-fuck that was O'Hare, the mishmash of old comforts and new charm glistening under a fresh downpour drew her in more than she cared to admit. She saw the appeal. It didn't make losing her man to the Midwest feel any better than the days before, though. They could visit anytime. She didn't want him to stay.

She put on a brave face and an appeasing smile during dinner at a so-so downtown Chinese and Thai spot, listening to Kelvin rant and rave about his new team while pieces of her heart withered and died inside.

Asia held on to him a little tighter as they walked through the streets like tourists in search of cheap drinks to celebrate nothing in particular. One shot turned into three and a cocktail. Then, two more shots a piece and a secret third shot Asia snuck with Kelvin dipped off to relieve himself in the restroom. Just something to take the edge off. She promised herself she wouldn't get too drunk and start crying. But, as reality set in and Chicago became less of a fun pre-Valentine's vacation and more of a concrete reality, she couldn't help the tears welling up in her eyes once they'd called it a night and snuggled into bed together.

Unable to cry, scream, or otherwise, Asia took the next best outlet: fucking. She knew it was wrong to hide her pain behind the ruse of wanting intimacy from a man more than willing to give it to her. She wanted to change her mind and almost had an out when she called Kelvin's name and startled him awake. He took Asia's apology in stride and pressed for answers until he was buried deep in her heat from behind, spooning like both their lives depended on it.

Good, but not enough. Not until Asia was numb and so drunk on physical intimacy that she couldn't think straight. Perched on his face, she bucked her hips erratically to get the last drops of frustration out of her body by way of Kelvin's tongue.

He held on tight with long fingers gripping soft flesh on both ass cheeks for dear life while he watched Asia fondle her own nipples, searching for her third orgasm. A woman possessed. He loved it. He'd drink her in until the sun came up just to see the face she made when the pressure in her belly was too much to contain.

Groaning, Asia slumped forward to look down at Kelvin, lapping at her with a face covered in his reward. "I love it when you eat me like that, baby," she demanded, her voice raspy and thick with sleep. "Look at you. So fuckin' nasty for me. You gone make me cum?"

"Mhmm." More a moan than a response. And, even as he grew more excited from the mere sniff of the gold mine between her legs, Kelvin wasn't sure if he could go too much longer without a break.

Reaching between her legs, he slid two fingers into her pussy, never slacking on his tongue's rhythm. A desperate mewl from deep within Asia's throat cut through the pitch-black room. Her thoughts became static as she felt the familiar tightening of release wind in her abdomen.

"Oh…fuck," Asia squealed when euphoria quivered her inner thighs. "Don't stop, baby! Don't stop!"

A plea for the moment and the future wrapped in one. Tears begging to see the world all say fell freely from Asia's eyes in pain and pleasure. Kelvin watched her in elation, feeling pride from a job well done swell in his chest.

She came hard, the force from a hard-earned eruption still directing her hips to turn Kelvin's face into a saddle until all thoughts of tomorrow floated into the void to bother Asia another day. Kelvin was there to greet her when strength returned to her body and sent her rolling off his face onto the mattress. Her chest heaved to bring in as much oxygen as possible while he peppered affection across her shoulder and onto her jaw.

"I've never seen you like this before," Kelvin mumbled between kisses to the corner of Asia's mouth. "Maybe we should do that more often?"

She smiled, turning on her side to face him. "I'm down for right now if you wanna go again."

Again? Kelvin tried to maintain his smile, hoping she'd crack the impenetrable neutrality preventing him from getting a read on her true emotions. Was she joking? She had to be joking. But jokes came with laughs and a punchline. So far, neither were in the room.

"Oh, you're serious," Kelvin noted, a mix of confusion and amazement in his voice. He shifted to flip the switch on Asia's headboard lamp for a better look at her face in the wee hours of the morning. "I mean, if you give me a minute, I can maybe get things going again. You know I –"

"Kel, it's fine. Don't stress yourself if you need to rest. I'll live!"

Goading was manipulation, no matter how well she faked a cheery inflection to hide her true intentions. And though she wasn't proud of using nefarious methods to get what she wanted, Asia wouldn't allow her entire weekend to be taken by devastating blow after devastating blow to her emotions without getting something in return.

Kelvin's attempt to kiss Asia's lips was thwarted as she rolled off the bed on the way to the bathroom, leaving him just enough cheek to grease the gears in his mind. "Woah, woah. I need five minutes and I'm back in. Can I have five minutes?"

"Only five. You sure? I'm serious. We can wait until the morning."

"Nah," Kelvin rushed out. Asia watched as he dipped his fingers beneath the plush duvet to take things into his own hands. "I got it. Five minutes."

She'd give him eight. Two to find a distant memory to get the blood flowing, three to get his lone soldier to stand at attention, and three more for her to stop bullshitting and come clean.

The dark, ugly cloud of hidden feelings was starting to drench Asia's mental in inescapable, blurring rain, preventing her from thinking straight as the deadline loomed closer. With Kelvin, she sported a sweet smile and acquiesced to every endless scroll through Crate & Barrel or CB2 run, hoping that picking vases and matching color schemes would help her overcome the truth.

Long distance wasn't an option. Asia had tried to outrun and tiptoe across the fact like it was fresh lava on the ground, only to fall face first before in-flight snacks rolled down the aisle. Coming to terms with reality meant telling Kelvin. Telling Kelvin meant interrupting his third Bad Boys rewatch and the medium-difficulty sudoku puzzle keeping most of his attention. It meant possibly starting an argument with hundreds of strangers in earshot. It meant possibly ending her first relationship thousands of feet in the air with no way home until Monday morning. Worst of all, it meant disappointing Kelvin.

Waiting wouldn't change anything. The longer she kicked the can down the road, the more exhausted she'd wind up once the jig was up. Do it. Rip the band-aid. Asia tried to imagine Sabrina egging her on, pushing her to dive head first into radical honesty but came up short under dim lights showcasing incoming tears shining in her eyes. A harsh wipe with the back of her hand smeared them out of existence before she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Ripping band-aids off physical wounds always hurt, and the pain never went away as fast as people try to pretend. Emotional wounds couldn't be much different.

"Hey, Kel. Can we talk?" Asia's voice ricocheted in the silence as she exited the bathroom. No response prompted her to call for her lover again. "Babe?"

Eight minutes was too long for tired limbs and eyes to settle atop soft sheets, especially for a man known to value the sanctity of napping. Asia watched Kelvin's chest rise and fall, his mouth hanging open with his hand still beneath the covers. A small smile tugged at her lips as she climbed into bed beside him. Kelvin wasn't a wound, and her revelation wasn't a band-aid. It was a life-altering change that required a delicate approach Asia hadn't quite pieced together. Not here. Not now.

Two soft kisses on his cheek stirred Kelvin awake long enough for him to hug Asia's waist tighter and yawn. "I wasn't asleep. Just resting my eyes. You ready for me?"

"It's okay, babe. Go to bed. See you in the morning," Asia answered. She snuggled closer to his body to savor what could be the last bits of his warmth she'd ever feel. Kelvin half-kissed her forehead, bringing back tears she thought she'd neutralized.

"Mhmm. Morning."

Deep breaths in and out helped Asia match her heartbeat to Kelvin's until sleep welcomed her into a temporary retreat from inner turmoil. She promised herself another round of next times. Next times that came and went without so much as a peep until they slowly took a backseat to the utter chaos of apartment hunting the following morning.

Kelvin's carefully curated list of five perfect apartments had slowly dwindled to two and a shaky possible by noon. Too expensive, too small, too outdated, too stuffy, not enough natural light – the list of big and small flaws ran the gamut of available gripes. Asia resisted taking the opportunity to plant seeds of doubt in Kelvin's mind to play the role of dutiful girlfriend, smothering little frustration fires and offering support in the face of adversity. It was her idea to continue the search past lunch when all Kelvin wanted to do was stalk back to the hotel and bury his head beneath a pillow.

She tugged him down a sidewalk drenched in fresh rain toward their fifth and final option. "Come onnnn. We're already here! This could be the one!" A fifth dud couldn't hurt that bad. Or maybe it'd hurt just enough to help him change course.

All hope of helping Kelvin see the light atomized into a figment of Asia's twisted imagination when a few taps at an empty two-bedroom unit's digital keypad granted them access to the most beautiful piece of real estate either of them had ever seen.

A wall of windows overlooked a bustling cityscape complete with enough commuters and tourists hustling past each other on the sidewalk to people-watch for hours. Expansive, pristine granite countertops complimented warm-toned wooden cabinets, housing more space than both their kitchens combined. Light wood floors added an upscale feel as Kelvin and Asia walked hand in hand through the hallways and gawked at each room. Two bathrooms, a walk-in closet in the guest bedroom, a huge faux-marble standing shower, a soaking tub, enough space for a king bed and nightstands – a slice of heaven well within a reasonable price.

Asia wanted to hate it. She wanted to point out imperceptible flaws in the drywall and the specks of dust on the baseboards. One of the handles on the doorknob stuck a bit when she pressed down on it. Surely, that was enough to change his mind. Unfortunately, the hassle of finding a problem couldn't outshine the pocket of joy she found in watching Kelvin record videos to send to his sister for her approval. He saw a future in empty bedrooms and blank white walls waiting for his creative touch when she couldn't stomach walking into such a prison ever again.

"You were right." Kelvin did a full 360 in the primary bedroom, mentally planning where some of his prints could create a gallery wall. "This is the one. I think I found our spot, babe."

Asia fought to maintain the smile she'd plastered on her face despite happiness being miles away. "I…I think you did, too. This is beautiful. I love it for you." She'd inadvertently found Kelvin a hidden gem. Another perfectly fated wrench was thrown into her plan. "You need me to get the leasing agent?"

"Not right now. Come see the vision for a second." Kelvin's outstretched hand beckoned for Asia to join his side in the center of the room. She answered the call with slow steps before allowing him to pull her body into a soft hug. He pressed silly kisses onto her cheek, making a show of his affection until he'd had his feel. "I'm gonna put the bed right here," he informed, gesturing to a spot against the back wall. "Those two nightstands I've been lookin' at will fit perfectly. Eventually, I'm gonna throw the wallpaper you showed me up behind the bedframe, and that dope ass rug can warm up the room a little too, right?"

Asia placated him with a nod. "Yeah, probably. Either here or in the office."

"Oh, shit, the office. I can say that now. I have an office. We have an office," he laughed, giddy from the realization he could finally separate work, lounge, and sleep into three separate spaces. "Shit is crazy. You know, you basically have two places now. How does it feel to be rich?"

"It's feels good." It felt…something. Terrible? Painful like a thousand bikini waxes back to back? But, good? That wasn't it. "I'm proud of you, Kel. Really."

Kelvin beamed from Asia's approval before puckering his lips for a kiss. "Thank you, baby. You want the left sink or the right sink?"

"I actually want the entire guest bathroom. How much is that per month?"

"I'm actually running a special," Kelvin answered as he pretended to tabulate numbers in his head. "If you come up here to do what we did last night every other month, I'll let it go for breakfast in bed."

Asia considered his offer. "What if you made me dinner every other month and I just ate it with my top off?"

"Sold."

Laughter echoed throughout the empty space, drawing attention from the leasing agent trying not to eavesdrop in the living room. She tiptoed around the corner and stopped to smile at the young couple so wrapped up in each other that they didn't notice her presence. She cleared her throat, making them jump from the intrusion.

She waved her hands in front of her body, eyes wide from embarrassment. "No, no! Don't stop on account of me. I was only checking in with you two. Like what you see?"

"It's beautiful," Asia answered, still in awe of their luck. "Right, babe? This is the one?"

"I think so. I'm only here for the weekend, so it'd be great to start the process today if we can."

The possibility of a commission before the end of the day had the agent jittering in excitement. If they were quick, she'd have her weekend kicked off with a little sweetener on top. She rushed to whip out her iPad and dance her fingers across the screen.

"Oh, of course," she answered, her eyes focused on the device in her hand. "Are we doing one or both of you on the lease?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not –"

Kelvin interjected on top of Asia. "Just me for now. Is there an opportunity to add a second person later, though? You know…in case something changes?"

Asia waited for the punchline or Ashton Kutcher to roll out of the closet with a camera crew in tow to announce she'd been punked. Maybe then she could laugh all this off and understand why Kelvin had gone out of his way to plant the seed that there was a remote possibility she might abandon the life she'd created to follow him hundreds of miles to the Midwest.

"We love a man who plans," the leasing agent complimented, impressed by Kelvin's desire to include his lady. He stood taller and pulled Asia closer despite her legs refusing to budge. "To answer your question, yes. But we can cross that bridge when we get there. In the meantime, take another look, get some more pictures, and then meet me in the lobby to talk about the paperwork. Sound good?"

"Sounds good!" Kelvin couldn't contain the cheery inflection in his voice as he talked through additional instructions with the leasing agent at the front door or the slight hop in his step when he snuck up behind Asia to gaze out of the bedroom's windows over her shoulder.

Pure, unadulterated happiness coursed through his veins with her body wrapped in his arms and tomorrow's possibilities flipping rapidly through his mind. Home. An abode meant for a singular inhabitant at present, but circumstances changed every day. There was a time when Asia was but a coworker and then a close friend. With sunshine peaking through thick grey clouds to bathe their tangled bodies in warm light, he had more than enough proof of how quickly dreams became reality.

Asia sighed as Kelvin nudged her head to the side, searching for space to attach his lips to her neck. "This really is the perfect view." She tried to imagine how each of the unrecognizable buildings across the way would glitter and gleam at night. From the sky, they looked like Christmas lights in a town permanently frozen in the most wonderful time of the year. If she could push past the nagging discomfort in her heart and stick out the increasingly tough times, they could welcome her in with open arms every other month, slowly disarming her guard until she craved more. Another deep breath passed through her nose. "This is gonna work."

Kelvin examined Asia in silence for a moment, wondering if she meant for her statement to sound so unsure. She chewed her bottom lip while staring blankly at the landscape in front of them as if she were searching for the answer in the distance. She seemed to open her mouth to speak but closed it when no words came forth.

"Hey." His soft voice cut through Asia's contemplative silence, snapping her out of her daze. He pecked her cheek before speaking again. "We're gonna be fine. Trust me. Trust yourself."

Turning in his arms, Asia let her gaze softly commit each of Kelvin's perfect imperfections to memory. He looked back at her with a disarming smile, hoping his reassurance would combat whatever uncertainty brewed inside her.

Asia leaned closer, stopping just short to keep their lips tantalizingly close. Kelvin licked his pair, drawing her attention before she made her request. "Kiss me. Please."

Next time, she'd talk things out – lay all her concerns on the table to get the necessary courage to keep moving along a path to true happiness. She'd voice her grievances, express her hesitation, and come out on the other side as a woman facing all her fears.

After their kiss in golden hour light was washed away and their trip was history, she'd put on her big girl panties and do the thing. Next time.

A weekend in Chicago came and went with scary thoughts successfully turned into background fodder to focus on being somebody's Valentine for the first time.

Standing in the dressing room's full-length mirror with an audience of one smacking on scavenged dill pickle chips, Asia examined the curvature of her behind in the fourth sultry red dress picked for an early afternoon try-on haul. The bow at the small of her back perfectly accentuated the toned muscles on display without fabric shielding them from the world. Her long legs benefited from a short hemline meant to turn heads as she strutted through the world on Kelvin's arm.

Sabrina paused her chip chomping to compliment her friend. "You look good! I like it. And if I like it, your man is gonna love it."

"Shit, he better. If I eat more than a piece of gum, I'll risk looking four months pregnant." Asia continued to stare at her reflection, trying to decide if being hot for a night was worth passing out from hunger at a concert. "Fuck it. Unzip me. I'm getting it. Food can wait. I'm only this young and hot once in my life."

"I know that's right! Speaking of Lover Boy, how was Chicago? Y'all see something worth going half on?"

Asia chewed her lip as Sabrina pulled the dress's zipper down the short track. "Uh…he found something he likes, yeah."

"Did you like it? I mean, I know it's not your place, but you'll be there half the year, damn near. You should at least wanna be there!"

"Well. That's the thing." Curious eyes awaited Asia when she turned around to face an expectant Sabrina. "I…may not be visiting…at all."

Curiosity quickly morphed into all-out confusion. "Are you breaking up with him?"

"No! No, I'm not breaking up with him. He might wanna break up with me when I tell him I can't do long distance, but that's a different story."

The final piece of Asia's confession came out as a mumble muffled behind the dress, shielding for the sure tongue lashing on the other side of her honesty, but nothing came. Silence hung between them for several seconds, letting the untz untz of department store electronic music pulse through their small dressing room.

Finally, Sabrina cleared her throat. "Okay," she spoke more to herself than to Asia. "Alright. Let's talk this out. You can't do long distance. Why?"

Asia thought about telling her best friend how much she craved nearby affection and thought being long-distance left too much room for mistakes. She could throw sugar over her true feelings and go on a diatribe to explain all the ways a relationship separated by almost 800 miles wasn't fair to her after years of being alone. She felt punished by some unseen force, beaten down for some sort of sick amusement.

Instead, she shared the plain and simple heart of the matter as she slid her jeans over her legs. "I had rules and boundaries when we started our thing, and I let him break every one of them. I didn't want to kiss, but he did. So, we kissed. I said no staying the night, and a month later, I'm leaving toiletries at his place, Sabrina. We haven't used protection in over a week, and I'm just…letting it happen! What am I doing?"

Losing herself. While Kelvin made strides to grow and improve, Asia allowed the first taste of genuine partnership to turn her into a woman more concerned with pleasing her partner than advocating for her own needs. She'd bent and contorted herself to fit Kelvin's vision on more than one occasion, and though he never asked her to, he never told her to stop. She never felt compelled to stop. That scared her the most. If she couldn't stop there, how far would she allow herself to go in pursuit of someone else's happiness?

"I love Kelvin. I love him so much it makes me sick and gives me life all at the same time. I don't want to hurt him." Of everything she'd said, Asia fessing up to the l-word shook Sabrina. "But I can't keep loving him without loving myself. It's not fair to him or me."

She hugged Asia, not caring about her state of undress. "Oh, friend. Welcome to the sick, sad, beautiful world of being in love. Ain't it fun!" Her joke helped Asia release the breath she didn't know she was holding through a strained laugh. Sabrina rocked them from side to side as she spoke. "Trust your gut, girl. I've never known you to make a decision you didn't think through. Do what you have to do. If this is what you think it is, he'll understand."

"You think so?" Asia sniffled into Sabrina's shoulder.

"He better!" Sabrina quipped. "And if he don't, so what? There are other men in the world and some of them are just as cute, just as successful, and just as willing to give you the world. You gon' be alright regardless, okay?"

I'll be okay regardless. Asia repeated the mantra to herself in an endless loop to calm her nerves from the couch because her next times had run out. By the end of the night, her chariot would turn into a pumpkin and end her perfect fairytale. Say goodbye to your glass slipper and fancy ball gown. Back to scrubbing the floors, you go.

Kelvin poured two glasses of champagne in the kitchen, whistling a made-up tune as he plopped fresh raspberries into crystal-clear flutes and covered them in fizzing liquid. He called for a cheers when she walked through the door dressed like a long-legged super moedel. A little pizzazz to kick off what he hoped would be their first holiday of many.

Dress sock covered feet helped him glide across polished concrete, expertly balancing glassware en route to Asia across the room. "Alright! One for my beautiful baby," he announced before stealing a kiss. "And one for me."

"What are we toasting to?" Asia asked, her glass raised and ready.

Kelvin smiled and put his hand on her thigh. "To us, girl! Fuck everybody else," he exclaimed. "Cheers to us for taking a chance on each other. Hopefully, we'll take some more this year. I know the transition may start off rough, but I hope we'll work through it. I really care about you, Asia. I want to see how far we can take this."

No response didn't stop Kelvin from clinking his glass against Asia's and taking a long sip of cold, pale liquid. She didn't join him. She couldn't join him. Taking a sip was too close to accepting her fate. Carefully, she put the glass on the coffee table then focused all her attention on her shoes.

"Kelvin, I can't do the distance. I can't do Chicago." Barely above a whisper, the truth shocked only one of them as Asia looked him in the eyes and continued. "The more I sit and think about our relationship, the more I realize that who I am ran head first into living for you somewhere in the middle. Your needs have become my needs. I don't want to resent you down the line. Neither of us deserve that."

Grief and sadness eluded Kelvin while he slid closer to Asia. He'd had his time to reckon with reality the night they returned to the hotel and caught her crying in the bathroom. Temporary arrangements had timelines, no matter how hard he tried to outrun them.

Hearing her voice crack produced tears in the corners of his eyes as he laced his fingers in hers and kissed her knuckles. "I already knew. You're not that hard to read. But thank you for finally telling me." His index knuckle beneath her chin forced Asia to look up at him through cloudy vision. He kissed her forehead and nose before collecting stray tears on her cheeks. "I understand. It fucking sucks, but I understand. I never want to get in the way of your self-exploration, even if it doesn't include me. That's why we started all this, right?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "Right."

"Don't worry about me or hurting my feelings. We were friends before, and we can be friends again. That's okay," Kelvin assured. I still want to experience you while we have time, at least for tonight. This dinner reservation was hell to make, and I need you to validate that the tiramisu is fire. Like I can't be the only one of us to have it."

Neither of them allowed misty eyes and hurt feelings to put a lid on their laughter. They were friends before, and though it'd take a moment to shake off a romance with so much potential, they could be friends again.

Asia took a long, deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Tiramisu it is. Can I have a moment to touch up my makeup? I'm sure I look like Beetlejuice right now."

"I wasn't gonna say anything. You look cute in a Pepe Le Pew sort of way," Kelvin joked, earning an eye roll and a grin for his antics. Anything to make her smile. "Go on. I'll be out here waiting."

A parting kiss to her forehead gave Asia enough energy to click four-inch heels across the floor into the bathroom. Kelvin sat back against the couch to finally allow his heavy mind time to process all he'd heard. In four weeks, his greatest joy would see him off to Chicago without a date set for their reunion. He'd kiss her goodbye, hug her close, and see those beautiful eyes for the last time. The thought alone was enough to bring him to his knees.

Eventually, he'd come to terms with his loss. He had no choice. He'd pack up all his big feelings in the box with his prized possessions and board a flight to a land of new opportunity.

But tomorrow's problems belonged to tomorrow. He had a month to face those. Watching Asia strut out of the bathroom in a red dress that hit her in all the right places was far more important.

If this was all the time they had left, he had a few more lessons to teach.

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#kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr. x black oc #kelvin harrison jr. smut

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sinners4ever · 18 days ago

Text

Pretty as a Magnolia

Pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Magnolia Black!Oc

Content|Warning(s): Fluff, persistence, sexual tension, inappropriate attention from father, rebellion, angst, smut (eventually), wandering hands.

Summary: Magnolia as sweet as the flower that bloomed. Stack full of fire and a dark side that most only spoke of in whispers. The two seem to be an unlikely pair, but they just may be each others saving grace.

Chapter One: Her Saving Grace

Magnolia lived a sheltered life in Clarksdale. She was the daughter of Bill Sinclair and Nettie Sinclair. They came from New York and settled back in the Delta when her Granddaddy Joe passed. Life was good besides the racism she endured which up north they were just as bad, but here it was a different beast entirely. But, she carried the heaviness of this place well. She was the quiet type, not being interested in being the mix of things and her father adored that about her while her mother wanted her to discover herself a bit more. She was a beauty and had a voice that could knock the most stubborn man to his knees, but she kept that beautiful voice inside afraid to show it to anyone for some reason. Everything was fine until her mama got sick and passed. Her mama was like her bestfriend the one person she always confided in and now she was gone. Her daddy didn’t take it too well hiding his grief with a bottle. Soon becoming a man she didn’t recognize. She avoided him as much as possible walking on eggshells in her own house. Staying out of sight as his eyes seemed to linger on her for too long. And some of the things he said made her skin crawl. She found something that helped her forgot about the world around her an escape…books and her singing. She read books imagining her life somewhere else in a different time and a different realm. She sang because when she lifting her voice all her burdens seemed to melt away and she felt even closer to her mother than ever before. But, it always seemed to fade when she set her eyes upon that house.

Today she had been running around with Pearline getting into this and that when they walked into the train station with all the commotion around them. And there he was Stack announcing the grand opening of he and his brother’s juke joint. He was handsome, with a charming smile, and a swagger that was very…inviting. She found herself staring at him while Pearline was going on about how she should sing at the talent show they were having that night. “No I can’t…you know I got stage fright, Pearline. Plus, my Daddy ain’t gonna let me go.”, Pearline just rolled her eyes and said, “He gonna be so drunk he won’t even notice you’re gone. Live a little, girl it will be fun.” Meanwhile Magnolia’s eyes never left Stack he was just so captivating until he looked directly back at her and smiled. She got choked up on her own spit and darted off. “Alright, Pearline I’ll see you tonight then. I’ll meet you there.” Pearline was a little confused but she just shrugged it off and said her goodbyes. The walk home wasn’t long, but she dreaded every minute that brought her closer to it. Coming inside she alerted her father that she was home and was gonna start on supper soon he didn’t answer back so she just decided to take a quick bath before she got to it. The warm water washed away all the sweat and dirt from the Mississippi sun and she felt relaxed. She head in her room to get dressed but jumped when she saw her Father sitting on her bed. “Oh my…hey Daddy what you doing in here you scared me?” He looked over between curvaceous frame hidden underneath that towel and then to her face. It made her uneasy. “You’re just as beautiful as your mother was…even more so now.” He stood to his feet stumbling over to her. She backed up away grabbing at the door knob., “Uh uh, babygirl. Where you think you goin’?” She smiled nervously trying to diffuse the situation. “Why don’t you go lie down, Daddy? I gotta get dressed and started on dinner?” He slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against it, “I ain’t hungry for no dinner, girl. I want you and that pretty frame of yours.” Your face twisted with disgust; eyes filled with betrayal. Your heart breaking at the way he looked at you. “Daddy, I’m gonna tell you once…get out of my room. I’m not your woman…I’m your daughter.” His drunken smile turned into a scowl his face so distorted it made her think she was seeing a demon right before her eyes. Then a struggle ensued he grabbed her arm painfully trying to pull her in for a kiss the smell of moonshine seeping from his pours was sickening and she turned away seeing her oil lamp on her dresser. She grabbed smashing it on his head with a primal scream. He was out cold and in a panic she grabbed her largest suitcase packed up as much of her clothes as she could took the money from her tin and left.

She wandered down that dirt road tears staining her cheeks. She looked back almost every second hoping he wouldn’t chase after her. When a car came speeding up the road but came to an abrupt stop upon seeing her. And was it other than Stack himself with Delta Slim, and Preacher boy in the car. At first he smiled at her with that devilish grin. “Hey little lady where you headed?” Until he saw her tears falling and he hopped out the car running to her instantly. He looked her over to see if she was hurt. “Hey…hey what happened?” She broke out into a full blown hysterical sob. “My…my…Daddy….he tried to…he…” Stacks eyes softened at the girl and wrapped his arms around stroking her back to comfort her. “It’s alright, now. Stack got you.” She didn’t say much but he knew exactly what she meant just by the little bit she said and that was enough to send him into a rage. “Listen to me how about you stay with me and my brother Smoke we will protect you, but first where does your Daddy live. I need to pay him a lil visit. Does that sound alright?” She nodded and hopped into the car and with her guidance he got to the house in no time. As soon as they pulled up her father came out in a drunken stupor smiling with a patch on his head from that oil lamp. “Hey gentlemen thanks for brings my baby back to me. It was just a little spat we was having ya know?” The three men in the car looked at him with disgust and indifference and Stack quickly hopped out of the car to snatch him up by his collar almost lifting him off the ground. Pulling his hand back into a fist he quickly landed a harsh punch that connected with a deafening crack. “I heard what you tried to do you sick fuck. To your own baby!!!!” He landed another blow dropping him in the dirt before pulling out his trustee knife and crouching down in front out him. “You see this? This is gonna be used to removed that little pecker of yours if so much as think about her again. You hear me? You try to get near her again the Smokestack twin will handle your sick ass you understand?” Her father nodded with blood leaking from his nose and mouth. “M…mag…magnolia…I’m so…sorry I won’t bother you again.” Magnolia sat in silence watching the man she once trusted get exactly what he deserved. She didn’t even give him a glance and with that Stack hopped back in his car and sped off to the old saw mill. On the way the boys decided to formally introduce themselves and you returned the favor. “Everyone knows me as Stack, but I’d like for you to call me by the name my mama gave me, Elias.” She smiled and nodded. “Alright, Elias. I’m Magnolia Sinclair or Mag.” He loved her name. “Just as pretty as the flower you’re named after.” She blushed and tried hiding, but everyone could see the red burning at her cheeks.

Once they arrived at what was to be the juke joint Stack came to her side of the car and let her out. She looked around and just knew this place was gonna be lit up like the 4th of July. Stack stood next to her, watch her eyes light up when she looked at this place. “I wanted to thank you for today and letting me stay with you. I don’t mean to intrude or nothin’.” He stopped her in her tracks, “Nah you intruding on nothing. You need to be and feel safe and I can provide that for you.” She sat in silence for a while watching the crew start working on the mill. “You performing tonight or you just here to have a good time?” She giggled girlishly and pushed him away. “Both actually I don’t sing around people much but I was convinced into to showing off my voice tonight so you will get to see my very first performance.” He was giddy, “Whew that’s what I like to hear, sugar.” She looked away bashfully and he cleared his throat trying to keep his composure. “Well, I’ma go help the boys out so when can get this done before the people come rollin in. You can help if you want or just sit and look pretty it don’t bother me none either way.” She nodded with a sweet smile and went over to Annie to ask her what she needed from her.

It took them about two hours to get everything up and running, but the end result was beautiful. Those twins sure knew how to put something together. She got changed into a fiery red silk dress her mama made her for her eighteenth birthday she never wore it, but it fit her like a glove. She pinned up her hair wore some satin red shoes to match. Before anyone arrived she came out so Annie and Grave could see her in it and give her their opinion. And they were not disappointed. “Well ain’t you a vision, Miss Magnolia.”, Annie showered her with praise. Grace chimed in, “Someone’s gonna love seeing you in their favorite color. He might want her to change someone might wanna snatch her up.” Grace teased. Magnolia twirled around feeling absolutely gorgeous until she saw him, Elias watching her with something she couldn’t make out in his eyes. He approached her with that same charismatic walk and smile. “Well, don’t you look absolutely delicious tonight, Miss Magnolia. I’m need to get a good stick to keep these fools off of you tonight.” She looked down self consciously at her feet and his rough finger lifted her chin., “Pretty girls like you don’t need to look down.” She felt the air in her lungs disappear completely as his eyes flick down to her lips then back to her eyes., “Thank you, Elias. You look very handsome yourself.”, he smiled and licked his lips letting go of her chin., “Do I now? Well thank you little lady.” Smoke was talking to Annie and they were most definitely talking about Stack and how he was acting with Magnolia he was smitten and Smoke couldn’t even recognize his brother at that moment. He was sweet on her like sugar on rice. Soon the crowd was coming and Magnolia was nervous so she went to the bar and got some liquid courage to calm them. “Annie can I get some of that fancy Italian wine they was talkin about ?” Annie laughed, “Sure, baby and if you’re nervous about singing. I heard you practicing. You got something special believe me.” Magnolia was very humble about her voice she didn’t want to come off too boastful. “That means a lot to me Annie , really .” The music was playing and she was about two and a half glasses in and her worries melted away she just wanted to dance. She looked around for Stack and spotted him quickly. Now it was Sammie’s turn to perform and you made a beeline to him. “Wanna dance with me, Stack?”, He laughed knowing you were a little tipsy be he indulged you, “Didn’t I tell you to call me, Elias?”, She covered her mouth almost as if to say “oops” before she laughed with him. “I’m sorry…Elias…but come on your cousin is playing.” She dragged him onto the floor and they started to sway to strum of his guitar. Her arms around his neck his around her lower waist it was perfect, it felt perfect. Sammie set off the rest of the night and with this new found confidence she was ready. After a few more set it was her turn and she was nervous but ready she had been singing little tunes in her head and she had the perfect song she wrote for her eighteenth birthday. She was feeling alive, sexy and seductive especially with Stack watching her. She whispered into Slim’s ear and started playing an upbeat shuffle and she started talking.

“How’s everyone feeling tonight? Y’all alright?” , they responded with hoots and hollers she smiled.

“Alrighttt….well let me introduce myself. My name is Magnolia Sinclair and I’m gonna sing a song I wrote for you tonight. Come on y’all stand up! Dance!” The crowd moved to the rhythm Slim was putting down and Magnolia was swaying her hips and tapping her feet vocalizing and she belted out the first note…

She felt the music in her soul and for once she felt like she finally belonged somewhere right here, right now. She was flirtatious with her cadence and her body moved freely to the music. Pearline was shocked but she was cheering her girl on. While Stack was howling like a wolf in heat, but also watching any man that even tried to look at her sideways. Once her number was up she went to go find Stack and he was waiting there with some cold water for her to drink. “You know you got quite a voice right there, girl. You looked amazing up there.”, he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her into him. She smiled feeling an unfamiliar heat in her stomach. She blushed and subconsciously looked down trying to avoid his eyes. He lifted her head up by her chin and leaned in slowly letting their lips touch ever so slightly. Her eyes closed and fireworks went off in her mind. He pulled away looking down at her, smiling while her eyes were still closed. “You are quite a woman, Miss Magnolia.” He leaned into her ear, his warmth breath hitting her neck. “If you weren’t such a good girl, I’d take you in that store room back there and fuck you senseless.” She gasped and bit her lip., “Who said I was a good girl, Elias?” He chuckled and grabbed a good handful of her ass and smiled. “Maybe you ain’t, but you are definitely a lady. And I wanna court you the right way, Miss Magnolia.” She huffed a little in disappointment, but it warmed her heart that he saw as more than a cheap hussy he could use when he felt like it. Things slowed down a bit after a long night of blues and booze. Stack and Magnolia clung close as they swayed in time with the slow melody that Slim played as the stragglers were too drunk to move or the other patrons were on their way back home. It was an amazing end of the night, but Magnolia’s father wasn’t too far away watching and waiting to take back what was his.

To be continued…

Chapter Two

#elias stack moore #stack smut #sinners #stack sinners #stack x oc #read it #fic rec #10/10 reccomend

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miifu666 · 6 months ago

Note

Asks you say?

What if Lmk Sun Wukong didnt meet Suklha for the first time until after LMK started? And let's just say he got a little bit obsessed with her. So yandere Sun Wukong (because yanderes are awesome!)

What are your thoughts on that?

PHOENIXXX HIII 🥹🥹🩷🩷

YESSS I LOVE YANDEREEES but i do tend to make them too dead dove- I've thought about it for a while! and made some Yan! Wukong with it! just below the Read more!

(I am having trouble drawing LMK Wukong tbh)

I imagine they met through MK. Particularly meeting through MK causing wreckage and falling through the roof of Suklha meeting her Client. In this case, Suklha isn't Wukong's lawyer and he has no idea who she is.

In a very cartoonish way, Wukong got attracted at first sight. Curious and threatened. The thought of another immortal chasing after MK, his prodigy just to talk about property damage? Thats hilarious! MK was just trying to save the city! This is injustice-!

Okay, maybe he can give her the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't been teaching MK properly. He'll admit, he's not the best teacher to have. He's probably lucky to have MK as his student who's so naive and patient. Naive enough for Wukong to ask who the lady that caught him during their sparring, get his ear talked out about an immortal Lawyer amongst celebrities known as the best of the best. I mean, what kind of monkey king doesn't have her as a lawyer? She's supposed to be the best! He should fire his current one. Yeah that makes sense, its definitely not because so he can get closer to Suklha. Nah, thats too egotistical! Hes a renowned sage! He should know better!

Yet even as he FINALLY joined those "VIP party" hosted by someone he doesn't care enough about, just so multiple well known artists and celebrities can gather and talk nonsense while drinking alcohol. His eyes kept looking around for a blue toned lady, usually his own Lawyer attend these events, something about finding relations and connections.

Eh, he lives in the mountains. His novel is worldwide, he doesn't need those stupid stuff.

He's lucky enough to see his namecard being put beside the person of interest, holding a glass of fine wine. Wearing a new and expensive black outfit, yet similar enough to her usual look.

"Oh? I was expecting your lawyer... is he not coming?"

Hearing her talk about him so fondly made his eyes twitch, blood red sclera affecting his vision. The room is closing in, he can sense everything in it. The chitter chatter, clinking of expensive glass, the pouring of alcohol, and the way Suklha's heavy earrings seemed to shine. Maybe firing the prick wasn't enough, maybe he should've done something more... adequate

All he can do is bite his bottom lip till blood draws out, all this time, such treasure was hiding under his nose. Spending time with his uptight and annoying Lawyer, who does nothing but berates him on not checking his emails and being "unprofessional". His ugly, old-schooled lawyer, got a chance to introduce himself to her?? How...foul

Don't worry, The Monkey King is good at handling business

_________

To those of you who wants to send me asks! I may not answer some of them, but i still appreciate and read all of them!! 🥹🫶 and yes its okay to send ur oc to introduce me to/yap to me abt! Please be mindful of my pinned post!

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judesdrabbles · 6 months ago

Text

The Cure (part 1)

Hello everyone, this will be the first part in my series ‘The Cure’, featuring my oc Vincent. This fic is quite slow, since I want everything to go quite gradually. I hope you guys enjoy. <3

yan!psychiatrist x reader

PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4

word count: 1K

warnings: reader is afab, obsessive tendencies, reader has anxiety, Vincent is extremely apathetic here

Pens were portrayed in a neat line on his desk, next to his patients files and some square glasses. They were clean. Polished. Just how he liked it.

People always find things to obsess over. It’s only natural. Otherwise, you’ll get bored. Silly teenage girls and their crushes on fictional characters. The insecure male finding validation in the stock market. The lonely, middle aged woman and her fascination with her neighbor. The old man and his collection of train models. Obsession was the thread that tied humanity together.

Vincent understood this better than most. If obsession were an art, he would be its most devoted patron.

There was never a quick spark of interest for him. There had never been a ‘phase’ of anything. Because if he was interested in something, he would become consumed by it. Wanted to know everything about it until it’s laid bare, plucked dry of everything it once contained. He wanted to know, to understand.

Nothing is casual for Vincent.

That said, not much interested him either.

‘Um.. sir?’

The man, who is supposed to be your new psychiatrist, seemed to jump up from his thoughts and glances over at you. You were standing hesitatingly in the doorway.

‘I’m sorry, but patients are supposed to be waiting in the waiting room.’ The man says curtly. His dark eyes seemed to flash in annoyance.

‘Oh- Yeah, I know.’ You say, laughing nervously. ‘But I had an appointment at five, you see? It’s already thirty minutes past..’ You stay quiet for a bit. ‘And, uh, your door was open..’

The man looks over at a watch on his wrist. She was right. It was already 5.30. How could he be so careless? He gently takes the glasses from his desk and puts them onto his nose. He clears his throat and walks over to you.

‘Forgive me, Miss..?’

‘Y/N.’ You answer, pressing your lips together. ‘I hope those 30 minutes don’t get charged.’

He shakes your hand and a small smile forms on his lips. It was a cold smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Dr. Vincent, pleasure. And no, of course not, I’ll make sure of it.’ He gestures to a seat on the opposite side of his desk. ‘You can sit there, if you’d like. Or you can sit on the couch, if you’re more comfortable there.’

The office of Dr. Vincent was .. lavish. Only one glance and you could see that this guy had some money, were it to be for either the polished leather chairs, the hard wooden floors or the tall book shelves that covered the walls. And everything was neat. Almost too neat. It made you feel bad for coming in here with your normal sneakers and clothes instead of dressed up in a formal dress and heels. Especially since the psychiatrist himself seemed to dress impeccably, too.

‘I’ll sit on the chair, thanks.’ You say as you sit down. ‘It’s a nice office you have here.’

Dr. Vincent rubbed his hand on his suit, as if he just touched something dirty, and sat down opposite of you. ‘Thank you, Y/N.’ He answered. ‘Now.. it was a few days ago that I got your file in. I understand that you were referred to me since your old psychiatrist retired, hm?’

You nod. She had been such a sweetheart. You almost wanted to quit therapy all together when you heard she would retire. But she got a replacement. A new psychiatrist, moved from another town.

‘Yeah. We don’t have a lot of therapists or psychiatrists here, so I was genuinely shocked when they said there was a replacement.’

Dr. Vincent chuckles. He had his hand neatly folded in his lap, all the while looking at you. There was a slight flush on your cheeks. Nervousness? You didn’t seem nervous. Or were you good at hiding it?

‘Tell me what you worked trough with your previous therapist, Y/N.’

Dr. Vincent’s stiffness made you a little uncomfortable, and he seemed to notice that. He smiled reassuringly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes again. Was he bored?

‘We worked trough my anxiety.’ You say, looking past him since his dark eyes seemed to pierce trough you. ‘Social.. situations and stuff. How I can handle it.’

Dr. Vincents eyes seemed to light up with newfound interest. ‘Right. Did you feel like you made progress?’

‘I mean, I am here, talking to you, a stranger. That’s something; right?’

He nodded, though his thoughts began to stray. He didn’t get many patients in his old city. And the ones that did come, were boring. They were like the wallpaper in his office. Unremarkable- fading into the background of his mind.

Again, nothing really interested him. Not the common patient that came in with relationship problems. Not the grieving mother. No, he didn’t worry one hair on his head about it. The pens on his desk interested him more.

‘Seemed like you made some good progress, then. I hope I can become more for you than just a stranger, though. Otherwise these sessions might prove challenging.’ He says.

You chuckle softly. ‘Time will tell. Need to decide if I like you or not.’

Dr. Vincent’s eyebrow raises. A sudden spark in his eyes appeared, again.

There was something about you.

Something that intrigued him.

‘I’m sorry, it was a joke.’ You say awkwardly when he doesn’t respond. He just chuckles.

‘I’m not offended, don’t worry.’ He remarks, his voice low and measured. ‘In fact, I value honesty. So, please, tell me more, Y/N..’

#yandere #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere doctor #yandere character #yandere imagines #vince my oc

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

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dreamboat | jjk (2)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 15.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

<- part one (wc: 14.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: yaaay full fic is out 🥹💕 i’ve been so attached to these two for the past month i’m gonna miss them sm :( reblogs and feedback are appreciated i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥺 p.s. it does get pretty heavy so pls take care of urself while reading 🫂 hugs and kisses

—

jungkook lets out a big yawn, removing his glasses so he can wipe off the sleepy tears from his eyes. his phone pings with new text messages and he peers down at the table to read them.

01:18am

stop texting.

why are you still awake? you have that big presentation tomorrow.

you need your brain functioning at full capacity so you can answer the prof’s questions.

he types out his response.

01:20am

i want to sleep too but i’m not yet done practicing 🥲

if you’re on a mission to make him fall hopelessly in love, it would be safe to say that you’re succeeding. instead of being a distraction, here you are showing concern for his health and motivating him about his studies. he’s not used to having this kind of dynamic with the people he likes. usually he’d be stubborn and stay on his phone, but he puts it down so he can refocus on his slides. he’s excited to do his presentation well and gush about it with you at the end of the day.

twenty minutes later, a rapping at the door disrupts his concentration.

“he better not be drunk.” he grumbles on his way to the door.

no one else would disturb him at this time but taehyung.

but it’s not taehyung.

it’s you.

“i didn’t wake you, did i?”

“no, no- i was still-” he takes a glimpse at his messy desk. “practicing for the presentation… uhm, i thought you were at work?”

“we don’t have work today.”

you nonchalantly bring out a glass full of green goop from your back, encouraging him to take it.

“here, drink this.”

he stares at it in bewilderment as he slowly accepts it. “what’s this?”

“bedtime smoothie.”

you sense his disgust and foreboding.

“there’s bananas and cherry juice in there.”

that knowledge emboldens him to take a sip. he licks off the mustache it leaves on top of his lips. “hmm, not bad!”

“i told you so.” you send him a tight-lipped smile which disappears in two seconds. “do you want some help practicing?”

“oh, that’s right.” his eyes widen. “you’re good at speaking!”

he steps aside so you can pass through the narrow entrance.

“please come in.”

jungkook is compelled to make himself clear. he hasn’t invested on a shelf. never found the time. his room may look like a mess to an outsider’s eyes but he has an organized system and he’s incredibly resourceful.

“jungkook… you can’t live like this.”

is it that bad?

his jaw slacks when you pick up a plastic bag on the floor and begin throwing in the scattered empty cans and bottles of caffeine on and around his desk, including the one he hasn’t finished drinking yet. that— he won’t win defending.

“you’ll die at this rate.” you rebuke him calmly. “do you even drink water?”

“of course i do!” he proceeds to drink the smoothie you made for him. “but you drink a lot of coffee too.”

“not anymore,” you head to his fridge after dumping the plastic bag in the trash. “i’m already adjusted to my job… i’m taking these.”

you bring out the two remaining cans of energy drinks and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie.

“you can’t just take them!”

you ignore his protest. “is the smoothie good? you like it, right?”

his shoulders deflate in defeat. he takes another gulp and swallows, nodding happily. “i like it.”

“then i’ll make you an energy-boosting one when you need it. i received fruit baskets at work. they’d only go bad if i try to eat everything alone.”

“sounds like a sweet deal,” he grins.

he’s definitely not complaining. the artificial flavoring of the energy drinks pale in comparison to the real thing.

“okay, let’s get started then.” you pad over to his desk.

you hand him his laptop which is displaying his powerpoint before making yourself comfortable on his chair.

he stands infront of you awkwardly. “we’re really doing this?”

“we are,” you reply curtly, sinking further into the chair. it’s a pretty big chair, even for him. it’s endearing to see you play around with it. “are you nervous? you can’t be nervous.”

“i’m not,” he lies. “i’m a professional!”

you have no idea that you make him more nervous than having forty other people in the same room.

he sighs. “hold this for me then.”

you take the glass into your hands, sipping a little. he clears his throat and pretends that didn’t affect him at all.

“okay, let’s start… good mor-”

“wait-” you shake your head, demandingly waving your hand to the right. “wrong slide.”

—

“where are you? i thought you were going to help me with my project?”

jimin, a friend he met through a school organization two years ago, begins coughing dramatically over the phone. “jungkook, i’m sorry. i’m feeling under the weather.”

jungkook grimaces, stopping on his tracks to berate him. “hyung, i can hear the dj music!”

“ah, yes…” he can practically hear the wheels in jimin’s brain turn. “actually, i’m about to leave the club! since i’m not feeling so well.”

“wow,” he huffs out a laugh. “you’re really terrible.”

“i’m serious! let’s reschedule tomorrow. i’ll buy you dinner so we can catch up too.”

“fine,” he blows a loud breath.

“i love you, jungkook-ah.” jimin proclaims with exaggerated affection.

he makes a noise of disgust. “you’re really drunk.”

“oh, why aren’t you saying it back?” jimin angrily questions him.

“maybe i will, after you buy me food.”

“okay,” jimin cackles. “i’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“okay, goodbye.”

he drops the call, still uncertain whether jimin was lying or not. either way, he gets a free meal and he no longer feels the need to complain.

he shrugs and continues his journey home.

that is until he inhales the unmistakable scent of smoke from the alleyway.

again, it could be anybody, but there’s a peculiar feeling that won’t let him move forward. deja vú is what they call it. it is often described as bittersweet, but jungkook is nervous. scared even.

he doesn’t want his gut feeling to be right.

he knows what your sobs sound like, their effect on him and his heart that is awfully weak when it comes to you, but he wants to be wrong so badly.

right then and there, jungkook faces a dilemma.

those who hide do not want to be found.

he has the choice to keep walking, pretend that he was never here. that it doesn’t hurt him to walk away. he can do what he failed to do the first time and not jump in to interpret your crying as a cry for help.

he stands there like a fool waiting for the stars to spell out the correct answer for him to read.

unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way and there isn’t even one to wish upon.

you flicked his forehead and erased his memories. if he makes the same mistake twice, then maybe he can use that as an excuse to lessen the burden of regret.

—

you flinch and lift your head in fear when something bumps against your knee, but that fear soon morphs into an entirely new fear when you perceive the person sitting infront of you.

your bloodshot eyes make out jungkook’s features in the dim light.

you’re no stranger to that look. you know what you look like. the cigarette tastes terrible, it doesn’t smell better with liquor either. there are teardrops on the ground and your sobs are caught in your throat and they come out as hiccups. you wouldn’t even dare to call yourself a mess, because scattered pieces of a broken whole float on the surface and sometimes miraculously wash ashore. you’re at the rock bottom being eaten alive and you’re not going anywhere else.

“just walk away,” you croak out, pushing him away with the hand not holding the cigarette.

he doesn’t budge. you don’t know if it’s because you’re too weak or he’s too strong.

“i can’t leave you like this.”

“you can,” you argue.

“you don’t have to be alone. i’m here.”

he holds your arms, coaxing you to recognize the sincerity in his eyes. those wide doe eyes, always shining when you reflect on their irises. you wish they could stay that way forever. you wish you could be at peace with that.

“you can confide in me. you can use me. whatever you need to feel better. ____, please.”

“you can’t help me.” you bluntly assert. before he begins begging. before he says more swoon-worthy words that would break down the walls you’ve built. “i appreciate the thought, but nothing you can do will make this better.”

god knows that you’re yearning to hear them, but you still don’t know how much of it you can trust.

“maybe i can!” he interjects. desperately. his grip on you tightens a little. it steadies your body as your mind and heart fall apart, but you feel suffocated.

“jungkook, i don’t want to fight right now.”

“if you just let me try, ____. i’m here for you. i swear i won’t pass judgement or-”

“you can’t! okay? you can’t!” you break down, uncontrollable sobs making your words less coherent. “you’re just wasting your time!”

with every morsel of strength you have left, you force yourself to stand up. an unnamed object clatters on the ground and you shove jungkook to the ground without meaning to.

a combination of hurt and shock flashes across his face. you become racked with guilt.

however, this is what you wanted. this is for the best. you’re supposed to live a quiet life and not get too close with anyone, but you don’t cause a person this type of pain, and you don’t feel this guilty about it, if your hearts were never intertwined.

you should be the one to walk away.

every step you take to escape from him is heavy. you’re confused by the contradictions between your mind and heart and the last thing you need right now is confusing. what else can you do but run?

jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, stopping you on your tracks.

“what are you doing?”

the world stops for a little while.

“let g- let me go!”

you struggle out of his embrace, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed he let you go so easily.

“you think a hug’s going to make me feel better and fix my life? are you that naive…? wow, i envy you. if it was that easy, i wouldn’t be at this fucking dumpster with you!”

maybe you’re even angry that he did, pounding away at his chest with rigid fists to break his heart too. your throat is painful and rough from screaming but the thought of losing your voice doesn’t occur to you. apparently, you don’t care that you’re burning your lungs either. the world may very well end at this moment because that’s what it feels like. you have nothing left to lose but this vessel— and this vessel is heavy, worn-out, and incurable.

you’re an overflowing sink of adrenaline rush, shaking and tearing apart at the seams.

“i never would’ve ruined my hair with this- this stupid color. i wouldn’t be getting cursed at by bigoted strangers because they hate my accent…”

your forehead collapses on jungkook’s chest. a string of sobs follow the words that were forcefully uttered against your better judgment. you would’ve been fine after a smoke and a good cry, not processing anything so you can settle with being numb instead of jaded.

“i’d still be studying. i’d become a doctor. i wouldn’t give a fuck about fishes and what they can and can’t eat.”

—

for the first time, your laugh stabs him in the chest instead of making his heart flutter.

“i’d be living a good life not being bombarded by someone who-” you hit his chest with every word spoken with gritted teeth. “wants to be the fucking hero. i don’t need you!”

there’s no way. you don’t mean that. you’re just angry. jungkook convinces himself in his head as he openly takes the hits. he did say you could confide in him—use him—and you’re doing it right now. he just didn’t know he’d have to grow thicker skin on the spot to be what you need.

your icy glare pierces through him and renders him motionless.

“you can’t do anything, so please, don’t feel bad for me.” you sneer. “it’s making me feel bad for you.”

—

you’ve stormed off and jungkook stays right where you left him, wiping away his tears. the last time he cried was when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. that was over a year ago, it only dawns on him now.

you’ve been the only person in his mind since that one sunny june day.

where he stands, the autumn winds are getting colder and the winter is fast approaching.

just as fast your lives were weaved into a blooming wildflower did it also begin to wither.

jungkook does want to save you, but he doesn’t want to be a hero. after all the time you’ve spent together, do you sincerely see him as someone who values self-interest most of all? the truth did come out, the snide truth, a bitter pill he can’t swallow. you don’t want to be here. he can’t save you. it can’t be possible when he’s part of the picture you can’t stomach to look at.

“hyung,” he tries to be strong but his voice wavers, echoing the wretched state of him. “are you still at the club?”

“i’ll turn on my location.” jimin responds without question, which jungkook is thankful for. “call me when you’re near. be safe, got it?”

“yes, hyung,” he ends the call.

he inhales sharply, hoping that would alleviate the weight on his chest and allow him to move his feet. the heavy smell of burnt chemicals still hangs in the air. even after everything, he’s envious of the discarded stick of drug on the ground for having touched your lips.

jungkook turns to leave, but is interrupted by a small object caught underneath his shoe. he picks it up for inspection— a blue lighter hand painted with a goldfish.

he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

—

you woke up with a pounding headache, burdened with immense regret you assume. you deserve it. you don’t remember the exact words you said but you only scream when you don’t know what you’re talking about. you pushed away the only person who cared enough to sit with you in the dark. the line between right and wrong is blurring. you don’t know what you’re doing with your life anymore, if you’re doing anything so that it could be heading somewhere.

you thought life couldn’t possibly get worse, but here you are anxiously nibbling at your nails as you wait for a man to reply to your texts because you’re scared of losing him.

08:25am

jungkook i'm sorry about what happened last night i never meant to act that way and hurt you. i was out of my mind

i know you really care about me and i'm grateful for that

please forgive me

09:13am

[attached image]

you gaze wistfully into the aquarium. the fishes swim around with considerably more energy after their breakfast, and it drives you to wonder if jungkook fed them dinner. last night was the first night you received no messages from jungkook, not even an image alone.

“i think i fucked it up with your dad.”

you spot dahlia, and clementine, and coral, and tangerine… blissfully unaware of you drowning in misery.

accordingly, the wildcard emerges from the shipwreck. it swims to you, the glass acting as the barrier that prevents it from kissing your nose.

it doesn’t do this to jungkook, so you like to think that you’re special. you feel guilty that you failed to treat it the same.

“poor thing,” you hang your head in shame, sniffling. “we haven’t even named you yet.”

—

you learned from the new security guard on the night shift that jungkook requested for her to take over feeding for the meantime. three more days pass without any sign or trace of him, and yet you still send him your good morning pictures and you hang out at the lobby waiting for him to come home.

he has to come home soon.

he still lives here… right?

11:47pm

how long will you ignore me?

where are you? i'll come to you

please, let’s talk

you jolt on your seat when your phone vibrates with a ping!

12:01am

jungkook:

meet me at the rooftop

you are charged with joy and relief as much as confusion.

there’s… a rooftop?

—

you stand at the door staring at jungkook’s back, gathering all courage to face him despite your shame eating away at you.

“i didn’t know tenants were allowed here.”

“we’re not,”

he looks back at you, and surprisingly enough, his charming smile melts away your anxiety. you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or bad thing. it’s not right for you to fall in love.

“why are you still standing there?” he chuckles. he sits on a low table with his legs crossed, feet tucked beneath his thighs. he pats the space next to him. “here, sit.”

with a nod, you close the door behind you. you sit beside him, but with considerable distance, like the first time you sat next to each other.

“the view is quite nice.”

in consideration of the time, you didn’t expect so many lights. they look like shining stars from where you are, only that you can actually reach for them if you try. you even spot a ferris wheel. although, you’re not certain if it’s from the amusement park jungkook works at.

“it is, isn’t it?”

“do you go up here often?”

“not since the aquarium became our spot.”

our spot.

you smile to yourself, eyes falling on your lap as you mindlessly fiddle with your fingers.

“i’m sorry… for what happened.” you pause to swallow the lump in your throat, breathing shakily.

as ever, it’s difficult to apologize to someone and agree that there are dispensable parts of you. you’re scared that you might cry again infront of him. it never ends well.

��i-i was having a bad day, and i didn’t want to drag you down with me. but i got overwhelmed by my emotions and i said words i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry.”

“hey, i understand.” he replies kindly. “it’s also my fault.”

“no, it’s not.” you jump in, not being able to stand him taking blame. “you’re a really good person, jungkook.”

he shakes his head. “i should’ve backed off when you told me to leave.”

“but i do like being with you.”

“and you mean that?”

he gazes at you with those endearing doe eyes. you look somewhere else to quell the funny feeling in your heart.

“of course i do.”

jungkook crosses the distance between you, teasingly bumping his shoulder against yours. “i like being with you too.”

just an hour ago you thought you’d lost him, now he’s here effortlessly making you laugh. perhaps you do take life too seriously, submissive to fear. you weren’t always like this. you wish you could unlearn the new way that you function.

“so do you forgive me or should i grovel more?”

“i forgive you.” he rolls his eyes. “i’m not that mean.”

“apparently i’m the mean one between us.”

“you are,” he chuckles, leaning back and balancing himself with his hands anchored behind on the table.

for some sick reason, this new position of his leaves you hot and bothered. thankfully, you’ve mastered the art of maintaining a calm demeanor. albeit, it’s not always that you use it for this reason.

“you seriously hurt my feelings back there, you know that?”

“i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry.” you apologize more expressively within the more comfortable space the both of you created. “…when is your birthday?”

his forehead wrinkles in confusion at the random question. “why?”

“you’re my friend.” you point out. “we should know these things at least.”

“it’s on september one.”

“what?!”

he blinks innocently. “what?”

“it’s already november!” you point out, taken aback by the fact that you totally missed it. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“you were busy with work. besides, it wasn’t a big deal. i just had beer and meat with my friends.” he shrugs, brushing it off. “when’s yours?”

you rise on your feet, dust off your bottom, and begin marching towards the door.

“where are you going…? yah, ____!”

“i need to do something.” you vaguely inform him, waving your hand. “stay there! wait for me!”

—

“what’s taking so long?” jungkook thinks out loud, scratching his head.

it’s been fifteen minutes since you left. you couldn’t have forgotten about him already, could you? that might hurt him worse than when you were screaming and punching his chest. he slept over at taehyung’s dorm for a few nights, hoping to find some peace and clarity within a different space, but he was pretty much ready to forgive you when you texted him to apologize, then followed it up with a photo of coral eating. however, taehyung went on and on about his wounded pride, and maybe he did want to see you grovel and feel that he is at some level of importance to you.

he perks up when the door opens and your head pops out of nowhere, peeking. when did you put on a cap and face mask? did you go out? anyway, you’re so cute, he gushes to himself.

“close your eyes!”

“why would i do that?”

“just do it!” you demand with an angry pout.

“okay, okay- fine!” he surrenders. “i’m closing them now.”

“no peeking. i see your eyelashes moving.”

“how do you even see from there?!”

he hears your scoff and the clicking of your shoes as you walk. “you’re not sleek, you know?”

a series of rustling. a mystery object placed on the table. he gets a whiff of your perfume, powdery and fruity sweet, the next second, you’re tying a silk scarf over his eyes.

“what’s happening?” he laughs nervously.

he knows that is not what’s happening, but the impure thoughts enter his mind anyway.

“i need a minute.”

you sit beside him, your knee bumping against his. he hears more movements take place.

“can i remove it now?”

“i said a minute.”

he frowns impatiently. “a minute has passed though.”

“no, it hasn’t.” you counter. “now hush and cover your ears.”

“cover my ears?” he repeats to make sure he heard you correctly.

“yes!”

“why?” he whines. “what is this about?”

“just do it, please?” you plead with him sweetly, covering his ears with your hands as if to demonstrate.

and since he’s already too deep into this, he obeys your third instruction. he puts his hands over yours, and then you slip away, leaving him covering his ears the way that you wanted.

“okay, you can look now!”

jungkook removes the scarf over his eyes, and discovers a sight so beautiful, he wants to cry that he can’t permanently capture it in a polaroid.

this is the first time he’s seeing you in this light, the warm orange glow of birthday candles that paints you spellbinding golden. you’re beaming at him, with a rare smile that reaches your eyes, as you hold up a round chocolate cake topped by fresh strawberries.

just when he thought it was impossible to fall in love with you harder, you begin singing the happy birthday song. instead of clapping, you sway your body ever so slowly and gracefully. what is arguably considered the jolliest song on earth, you transform into a soft lullaby— the kind that flies you to the night sky and tucks you into bed on the moon, gathers the fluffy clouds and handcrafts them into pillows and a blanket. your voice is light and delicate, sweet as candy. it is an instrument on its own and you do not need anything else. he never knew you were a good singer.

“happy birthday, dear jungkook~ happy birthday to you…”

this is his best birthday yet, and it’s not even his actual birthday.

jungkook is stupidly and hopelessly in love with you.

he welcomes doom, hangs its coat, and pours it a hot cup of tea.

“i hope you like chocolate. i fought someone for this.” you shyly confess with a laugh. “turns out there’s not many bakeries open at midnight.”

he is speechless.

his gaze falls on your lap for a moment, where lies an opened plastic clamshell container, two strawberries too small compared to the ones decorating the cake. on the table, a fruit knife sits on top of the cake box.

you even decorated the bare sides of the cake with half strawberries. he doesn’t think he has seen someone do that yet.

“i- i like it so much.” he stutters. “you made the cake so pretty.”

“thank you!” you beam at the compliment. “okay, time to make a wish.”

he panics a little. he doesn’t know if it’s only a personal or perhaps a universal thing, but he tends to feel pressured when he has to make a birthday wish. he always wants a lot of things.

“five candles means ‘i’m sorry and happy birthday’ by the way.”

but there is five candles, so maybe he is free to be greedy this time.

he slowly flutters his eyes shut, and he takes his time to think. after whispering his wish to the universe, he blows out all of the candles.

“what did you wish for?”

there is five candles, but he only wished for one thing.

“if i tell you…” he begins, transfixed eyes tracing down to your lips. “will you make it come true?”

they part slightly as your chest begins to heave, cranberry stained and inviting.

he yearns, he craves. he doesn’t want to live with regrets, haunted by the what if’s. all or nothing. you deserve his all. he surrenders everything to your court for the touch of your lips.

are you thinking what he’s thinking? do you feel the way he does?

tell him he’s not the only one losing his mind. please.

and when your eyes lock, there is a palpable electricity none of you can deny.

“it’s for your birthday. you don’t have to ask.”

again, the best birthday ever.

without another word, he crosses the short distance, pressing his lips against yours.

there is no fireworks like in the movies and fairytales. instead, he gets flashes of memories in his mind. all those awkward and comfortable moments, stolen glances, blushing and stuttering, captured images, sleepless nights, tears shed. even the bitter memories inserted make this kiss much sweeter. it’s infinitely better than he could’ve ever imagined.

he removes his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, also the other that is anchored on the table, blindly searching until he successfully engulfs your delicate hands in his. he holds them, and the board carrying the cake, tightly.

when you smile against his lips, so does he. you give him a firm peck, so hot that he almost falters on his seat, before breaking away.

“let’s put this aside first.” you giggle, guiding your restless hands to set it down on the table. “you have chocolate all over your hand.”

jungkook can hear you, but he’s not listening. he immediately goes for your lips again, and ends up sorely disappointed when you dodge him.

“whoa, wait. you’ll smear chocolate on my face-”

“you said i don’t have to ask.” he argues.

you narrow your eyes at him.

he hurries with a solution. “i’ll keep my hands behind my back.” and true to his words, he acts as if his hands have been cuffed.

“that works,” you shrug.

he is to blame for his nasty torture when you drag yourself closer to him, draping your legs over his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

you’re practically sitting on his lap and he can’t touch you with his dirty hands. ridiculous.

there is the urge to complain, then lost and forgotten after you seal his lips with yours. he is the luckiest man on earth tonight.

—

“will you stay the night?”

jungkook’s cheeks are beginning to ache, but he can’t stop smiling for the life of him. how could he not? you’re lying on his bed, and this time you’re both under the covers. it can’t be more perfect than this, the way you’re mirroring each other. he’s admiring your face and you haven’t averted your eyes from his either.

at this moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.

“if i’m being honest, i’m still scared of the ghost.”

“is he bothering you again?” he quirks an eyebrow, prepared to brawl with a bothersome spirit. he is suddenly aware that the lamp is the only source of light in the apartment. “do we turn on another light?”

“no,“ you chuckle at his reaction. “but he appeared in my dream once after that.”

“what about me?”

“you?” you send him a puzzled look.

he grins toothily. “do i appear in your dreams?”

that earns him a sarcastic roll of the eyes.

“why is it suddenly about you?”

“i’m helping you get your mind off the ghost!”

“can we just… i don’t know…” you avoid his intense gaze, chewing on your bottom lip. “cuddle?”

this is real, right? he isn’t hallucinating?

he already made out with you until the two of you couldn’t breathe. surely, cuddling is nothing compared to that… but he has pined for you for months. going from zero to a hundred is giving him emotional motion sickness. like a rollercoaster, but arguably more dangerous. and he shamelessly lives for that.

“oh, so you got mad at me last week for hugging you but now you want to cuddle?” he mocks humorously.

“change is the only constant in life.” you say as a matter of fact.

and jungkook isn’t very fond of that knowledge, but if it led you to his arms tonight, then he can try to make peace with it.

he spreads his arms, and you push yourself close with an arm over his waist, until you’re properly hugging him and he has your body cocooned with his.

he breathes out a sigh. this is heaven.

“so? have you dreamt of me?”

you make a noise of protest, cheek squished against his chest.

“come on, humor me.” he coaxes you into revelation. “it’s my birthday.”

“…we went on a ferris wheel once.“

“really? were we on a date?”

“i don’t remember.”

“what were we doing?” he continues poking.

“i don’t remember.”

“that’s it?” he grumbles. “you must remember something else.”

you giggle. “it was a long time ago, jungkook.”

“and you didn’t dream of me again after that?”

“stop,” you draw back just enough to see his face. “we have more important things to discuss.”

jungkook gulps nervously.

more important things like what? the meaning of that kiss…? um, kisses? the label of your relationship? are you really bringing it up right away like this? he imagined he would be the one to do it.

“there’s one fish left without a name.”

oh… his face falls.

“have you thought of one?”

“i have, but…” you jut out your bottom lip. “don’t we decide together?”

beneath the stoic demeanor you parade around wearing, he realizes that you’re just like everybody else, craving to be held and to spend quality time with someone who makes you feel special.

he doesn’t hold back on kissing you.

“we will!” he pinches your cheek, which brings out your smile. “i’ll tell you what i think.”

“that goldfish actually reminds me of you.”

“really?”

you nod eagerly.

“how so?”

“the both of you,” you giggle. “always follow me around.”

his jaw falls slack, not expecting to be called out like that. you’re having fun with the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, huh?

“so you want to name it after me?”

“something like that, but let’s make your name sound cute.”

you hum as the gears in your brain turn. on the other hand, jungkook is not thinking at all, he’s memorizing your face. maybe it’s an artist’s sickness aggravated when faced with the apple of their eye.

“jung… kook…” you take a long pause, lips left in the shape ‘O’ due to the pronunciation of his name. “kook…?”

“you know, i do get called jungkookie sometimes.”

“jungkookie…?” you slowly repeat the nickname.

seconds later, your face lights up.

“then how about kookie? cookie but with-” you draw the letter into the thin air using your index finger. “a ‘k’?”

jungkook is relieved that you instantly put two and two together. he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. honestly, rather than a cute vibe, he’s going for the manly vibe.

“it sounds so cute. what do you think?”

“i think so too!”

as long as it makes you look this happy, he’d accept any name that you come up with.

“okay, it’s official.” you return to cuddling up to him. “i can sleep peacefully from now on.”

was that bothering you? you truly do care for them. he thinks you might care more than he does.

“let’s sleep…”

before closing his eyes, he plants an affectionate kiss on top of your head. the truth is he doesn’t want to sleep. if it was up to him, this moment would stretch into forever. as you slip into unconsciousness, he tries his damn hardest to resist it. he yawns, wipes his sleepy tears dry on the pillowcase, caresses your hair and forces his hand to move again when it falls on the bed.

“jungkook?”

he hears your voice in its tiniest form yet.

you’re still awake?

he barely is anymore.

“mhmm?”

“i really am,” he feels a light tug at the back of his shirt, your weak hand forming a closed fist. “sorry.”

—

jungkook wakes up at 5am with his stomach grumbling for food. your positions shifted throughout the night and he lies there cuddling you from behind, spending five minutes or so dwelling on regrets. he pictures the cake in the fridge, still in pristine condition, and how different it could’ve been if he didn’t stop himself after three stolen strawberries.

after that, he thinks about breakfast. rolled omelette would be amazing right now. he just stocked up on side dishes too. only problem is he forgot to buy eggs.

who goes to the supermarket and somehow manages to miss the whole egg section?

jeon jungkook, apparently.

a challenge arises: getting out of bed without waking you up. he isn’t a novice, but he isn’t exactly an expert either. he figures it’s just based on luck, and he’s… very unlucky.

he manages to slip out the arm you’re using as a pillow, replacing it with a real one hoping that you wouldn’t notice the difference in your sleep. a second later and you’re already stretching out your limbs.

“where are you going?” you utter raspily, swollen eyes from sleep peering at him.

“out- to buy eggs for breakfast.” he replies in a low voice.

you start to harshly rub off the sleep from your eyes.

“i’ll go with you.”

“there’s no need.” he strokes your hair gently. “sleep more.”

you shake your head stubbornly. “i need to buy something too.”

you drag yourself off of the bed before he can stop you. from your toes down to the heel, you slightly stumble when your feet touch the ground.

“i’ll brush my teeth.”

—

once you and jungkook step out of the building, you both find that it’s still before sunrise, but the street lamps are already turned off. everything under the sky is washed with a shade of blue. it feels almost illegal to be here with no other souls walking the streets, but you can breathe a little easier, and you’re warm because jungkook is holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket.

what was supposed to be a stolen glance turns into an enamored gaze.

“you look pretty.”

“so do you,” the two corners of your mouth lift into a quick, shy smile.

“yah, jungkook!”

that’s taehyung’s voice.

his best friend approaches from the opposite direction, a pomeranian on a leash waddling and wagging its tail beside him. despite the distance, jungkook can already see his smirk poking fun at him.

count on him to disrupt a perfectly romantic and peaceful moment.

as soon as they meet halfway, jungkook shows him a grimace.

“what are you doing here?”

“to return your camera,” he waves the silver film camera, its strap wrapped around his wrist. “i’m taking tannie on a walk so i decided i’d bring it over.”

“okay, give it and go on your way.”

jungkook snatches it from him, wearing the camera around his wrist as the rightful owner.

when taehyung finally sets his sight on you, jungkook’s fear of embarrassment instantly kicks in. if he says something stupid, he swears to god— he lets go of your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer to him.

“you must be ____!” taehyung snaps his fingers when he, at last, recalls your name, which jungkook knows he’s grown tired of hearing. “nice to meet you! i’m taehyung.”

“ah, yes…”

jungkook senses your awkwardness. he presses his lips into a thin line, sending his best friend a threatening glare that screams ‘i know i’m a hypocrite, but don’t embarrass me.’

“it’s nice to meet you too.” you offer him a polite bow.

“yeontan seems to like you a lot.” taehyung laughs, gesturing at his dog who is nuzzling its face against your shin.

jungkook also smiles in endearment. that’s another animal drawn to you for some unknown reason. he can’t say he’s surprised.

“does he bite?” you cautiously ask.

“no, he’s nice. you can pet him.”

you nod, bending down to gingerly scratch yeontan’s fluffy ears. “hello, yeontan.” you quietly greet him with a voice so sweet.

“honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?”

“must be when she rode the dreamboat before.”

“i don’t think that’s it though?” taehyung tilts his head, still racking his memories for your face. “i think i saw her more recently, but maybe not with pink hair.”

you stiffen beside jungkook, knees going weak out of the blue. you straighten up, but you keep your head slightly bowed down, hair falling over your face.

“that’s impossible. maybe it was someone who looks like her.”

“ah, maybe,”

taehyung rubs the back of his neck, giving in to the theory.

“alright then, tannie is getting hyper.” he snorts at his pet trying to run away but is held back by its leash. “see you around, ____! i’ll see you at work, bro!”

“sorry about that.” jungkook intertwines your fingers again. “let’s go.”

he moves forward, and you get left behind.

“____?”

his concern grows when he observes your despondent body language.

“are you okay?”

“huh? oh- i’m okay.”

you snap out of it, but as you walk to the convenience store together, jungkook gets the impression that something is weighing on your mind.

—

jungkook watches you move around the store through the viewfinder of his camera, zooming in on your face when you whip your head around. it fails to capture the countless packs of lozenges you’re hugging to your chest.

“miss ____, who are you buying so many candies for?”

you blink down at them before innocently staring back at the camera. “they’re for my co-workers. it’s flu season so many of them are getting sick.”

—

with the sun returning to reign over the vast sky, the shade of blue has been replaced by an orange hue. the two of you walk back to your apartment building in silence. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, if it’s his fault or not, but your mood changed after your encounter with taehyung.

you’ve decided you want some space and jungkook respects that. the entire time, he thinks about how his hand feels empty without yours. is he being paranoid? he feels like he’s already woken up from a dream too good to be true, crafted out of his greatest fantasies, and he’s going to be thrust into a nightmare— learning that none of it was real. this endless push and pull with you, he’s grown to be somewhat ill at ease in your presence.

he wants it to go away.

he moves closer, content with the mere brush of the back of your fingers against his, but that small pleasure is robbed from him when you pull your hand away.

“let’s stop here.”

the decisive tone of your voice instantly fills him with dread.

you turn to face him, and he searches your eyes for any trace of emotion. sadness, or fear, or even humor… but he gets nothing.

“let’s stop seeing and texting each other.”

and he’s scared most of all when you’re impossible to read. just when he thought he had managed to slither past your walls, he is met by larger and stronger ones with welded spikes.

“what are you talking about?”

“i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

you said it like it’s nothing. like you haven’t consumed his every thought since he saw you crying and you broke his heart without him knowing your name. like you haven’t been breaking his heart over and over again and he still can’t bring himself to detach from you.

“what is this joke? it’s not really funny.”

but he laughs anyway, or else he’d start crying, and you’d want him less.

“just forget all about me.”

his muscles tense. even now, he doesn’t know if he’s angry, but he is lost and it hurts so much, and he doesn’t know how else to express it without appearing weak.

“you think that’s something i can just do overnight?”

“what makes it so hard?” you raise your voice. the venom stings without the bite. “you don’t even know me that well!”

“then what was last night even about?” he hisses, hands balling into fists. “did you do that just to fuck with my feelings? am i just a game to you? what the fuck is your problem, ____?”

“you told me to use you to make myself feel better!”

it completely catches him off guard when you stomp your feet and produce guttural screams— it borders on a childish tantrum— you damage your throat in doing so, voice coming out high-pitched and scratched up.

his jaw clenches, straining to hold back his tears. the sun has risen and you’ve come to your senses. he regrets opening his eyes and acknowledging the morning.

“it didn’t work— is that what you’re saying? is that why you’re throwing me away?”

he doesn’t get a verbal answer, but your glassy-eyed stare and labored breathing have answered enough.

“wow, that hurts…” he chuckles sarcastically. “yah, seriously- i have to give it to you. i’m shocked… you’re good. you’re a good actor.”

he uses his middle finger to wipe the corners of his eyes, acting as though they are tears of amusement.

“you know, out of everyone i liked… you have to be the most cruel.”

jungkook’s pride has never been this crushed. he feels utterly infuriated and humiliated. yet another exchange of ‘i should have listened’ and ‘i told you so’ between him and his best friend. he’s also sick and tired of his heart leading him to the opposite direction of the love he deserves.

“i hope you find some other lunatic who would let you use them too. have a good life.”

this time around, he walks away, and he would like to think that he did it on his own terms.

—

jungkook loses his appetite after that. he informs his manager that he won’t be able to go to work because he’s feeling under the weather, then he drags himself back to bed.

your scent has clung to the pillowcase, the sheets…

it’s unbearable.

despite his lack of energy, he forces himself to set up the extra bed on the floor. he expected himself to have difficulty falling asleep, but the amalgamation of physical and emotional exhaustion pulls him down under.

he wakes up again in the afternoon. he ignores the cake in the fridge, instead snacking on yogurt and crackers while watching a movie on his computer. he takes a long shower after and buries himself in assignments until dinner time rolls in.

by this time, he assumes taehyung has blabbed about what he saw this morning. his friends must think he’s out here relishing in the honeymoon phase. how he wishes it was true.

he has that whole carton of eggs but he doesn’t have it in him to cook anymore. maybe it’s best that he surrounds himself with people, disrupt his depressing thoughts with loud chatter, and so he makes plans to go to the street market.

“wait!”

he sprints to the elevator, managing to slip his arm between the doors before they close entirely.

under different circumstances, this would’ve been fate instead of bad luck.

—

you stand your ground as jungkook enters the elevator, not sparing him a glance. just like you wanted, he also treats you with indifference. it’s hard to breathe in an enclosed space with him now that he hates you.

two girls from the eleventh floor enter; they stand infront of you and jungkook.

“did you find the video?” the girl infront of you, with the blonde hair, asks impatiently.

“wait- i’m looking for it.” her friend, you assume, replies as she is focused on aggressively scrolling and tapping on her phone screen.

“having a sex scandal with your professor? wow, that’s really something. how does that even happen?”

your blood runs cold.

from that statement alone, you can make an educated guess on what exactly they are talking about, but your brain tries to reject the thought. there are many scandals going around these days. maybe they’re talking about somebody else. you hope they are. does that make you a bad person?

“that’s not confirmed, though. the guy’s face doesn’t show in the video… oh, i found it!”

she presents her phone screen to the blonde-haired girl, and you feel as though gallons of ice have been dumped over your head. through the gap between their arms, you get a good view of your face. of the video you were forced to watch so you could acknowledge your sin… the video that not only damaged your reputation but stripped you away of everything. your dignity, your dreams, your people, the essence of your being.

you don’t need to look to know that beside you, jungkook is also secretly watching.

you’re trapped.

“this was really popular at snu but it suddenly got spread outside. my cousin who studies there said the girl’s parents are like- super rich- and they tried to bribe the university, but she still got kicked out. i think her name is ____?”

you bow your head to hide your face, vision gradually going blurry. strangers drop your name so casually to tell the shortest life story known to man. they discard the majority of the parts, retain and distort what entertains them, and in the end, they decide who you are.

you knew it was going to happen eventually, but this isn’t how you wanted jungkook to learn.

you didn’t want to be here for it.

“wow, she’s going at it.”

a scandalized gasp.

“no wonder men are going crazy over this. even the quality is-”

“insane, right?!” the storyteller whisper-shouts.

“but… what if she doesn’t know she’s being recorded? getting kicked out sounds a bit unfair, no?”

“no, no- she even holds the camera when they switch positions. watch!”

you can’t. you can’t take it anymore. you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut in extreme anguish.

you don’t realize that you’re shaking until jungkook holds your hand tightly, it’s almost crushing.

“ah, what are you doing?! turn it off! turn it off! it’s too disgusting from this angle!”

you look at him in shock, for a split moment you forgot he was there. his features have softened; so does your heart.

although you can’t exactly figure out how he’s feeling, you’d take anything that isn’t disgust.

the elevator reaches the ground floor.

as the girls take their leave, you also attempt to step out— but jungkook doesn’t let you. he grips your hand tighter and he presses the button of your apartment floor.

“why did you- i need to go to work…” you meant to chastise him, but your voice comes out small.

“stay a little bit. it’s still early.” he speaks to you softly, wiping off the beads of cold sweat on your forehead.

when did that happen?

“no, i need to-”

you feel dizzy; the walls are closing in on you. the turning of your stomach is bordering on intolerable. you lurch, pushing him away as you clamp a hand over your mouth and gag uncontrollably. you’ve had to experience this humiliation in school hallways, public spaces… in front of your friends, your parents; in the dean’s office. this is the first time your body is having this type of reaction; you feel physically sick, like your body is shutting down.

he rubs your back as an effort to alleviate your ails. “are you okay?”

you could answer, but what’s the point? you’re breaking down in front of him again. you’re no longer the mystifying neighbor he obviously yet secretly cherishes. he has discovered the missing puzzle piece you could never bury even if you died trying.

“did you enjoy it?”

“what?”

you wish he would stop looking at you with those big, sparkly eyes. at this moment, they’re making you feel small.

“the video. was it fun watching it too?”

the silence is suffocating.

he utters your name. he doesn’t know what to say; you don’t know what you want to hear either.

“it doesn’t change the way i see you.”

“bullshit,” you spit out— a knee-jerk reaction.

“look, i-i don’t know what happened but this isn’t right. you don’t deserve this. you can sue ever- wait! ____!”

the elevator opens and he chases after you, effectively blocking your path.

he has officially wore you down.

“it’s not me,” you declare near to tears instead of pushing him away. “it’s not me, jungkook. i d-don’t know how they- they did it. i know it looks so real but it’s not me. i swear-”

and as an act of desperation, after months of having given up on proving it’s all some sort of well-orchestrated deception, your hands come up to the buttons of your blouse.

“it’s not my body.”

“no no no- you don’t have to do this! this isn’t right!” jungkook freaks out and binds your wrists with his hands, unwillingly using his strength on you when you fight back. he anxiously glances at the camera monitoring the hallway. “stop, stop-”

“i just need one person to believe me.”

“i believe you, okay?” he captures your wrists in one hand, the other tenderly caresses your cheek. “i believe you. i promise.”

he cradles your head on his shoulder, hugging you so tightly it almost feels like you’re one person.

“when the girl said you might not even know you were being recorded… the terrible thoughts i had- like what if he…”

it’s too much alone in his head. he can’t bring himself to say it into the universe.

“but you didn’t get hurt, right? nothing like that happened? it’s not even real.” he sniffles, holding you tighter as if that is still possible. “that’s a relief… i mean- this, this is bad, what happened to you is. but i was scared.”

you remain there, dumbstruck and motionless. the line between standing and letting jungkook carry your weight has blurred.

you wish he would never let you go.

—

jungkook brings you to his apartment, sits you down in the kitchen, and takes out his birthday cake from fridge. he conveniently finds two pairs of chopsticks in a plastic bag on the table and offers you one, which you accept without thinking. you think he understands that you don’t want to talk about it but you can’t be alone right now either.

chocolate is supposed to help raise one’s spirit, doesn’t it?

well, it tastes delicious, and jungkook is with you. you feel a little less shitty.

he can’t sit still, though.

he cracks open the eggs he bought this morning into a bowl and starts chopping up vegetables to be mixed into it. all the while you sit and watch in silence. no, in peace. the rhythmic tapping of the knife against the chopping board is like music to your ears. even the sound of the oil crackling as he pours the beaten eggs into the frying pan.

you abandon the endorphin-inducing treat on the table. you saunter over to jungkook in search of something else more associated with love, sneaking your arms around his torso. a tidal wave of relief washes over you. this feels more like resting, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, better than drugs. as it turns out, you’ve been homesick for a body you haven’t touched. a hug can’t fix your life, but it may convince you that it’s possible to survive an unfixable life.

however, the key difference between jungkook and nicotine is that you can’t simply have jungkook because you want to.

what he has unleashed upon you is greed.

“i’m sorry,” the more you apologize, the easier it becomes, but you’re also growing sick of it. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared of your reaction when you find out so i pushed you away… i keep taking you for granted. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, i understand.” he rubs your forearm comfortingly. “just don’t do it again… it really hurt.”

“i like you too.” you confess like you’re running out of time.

you no longer have room for apprehension. you can’t gamble with your chances once more when there’s not much left.

“i wasn’t playing with your feelings. up until earlier, i thought i’d never be able to let you know, so i’m doing it now. i like you.”

a chill runs along your spine. it feels immensely intimate— how jungkook slowly takes a hold of your hand and guides it to his soft lips, pressing a long kiss to your skin.

“i like you too, a lot.” his laughter makes his body vibrate, waking up the slumbering butterflies in your stomach. “incase i haven’t made it obvious enough.”

—

“will you stay?”

you nod your head as you joyfully munch on your fresh homemade meal. “they’re already forcing me to use my vacation days anyway.”

he makes a noise of surprise. “you’ve never missed work?”

you shake your head no.

“rude clients aside, i like what i do. it helps me keep my mind off…” you wave the radish-bearing chopsticks. “things.”

he only nods, ruffling your hair affectionately. “you should eat well, okay?”

“you too!”

you feed him a big bite of your omelette, and then rice, and then kimchi.

it results in stuffed cheeks and aggressive chewing, but you look especially happy watching him eat. jungkook assumes that it’s just how you express your affection, and it’s euphoria to be at the receiving end.

—

you found your way back to where you were last night— jungkook’s warm bed. comfy pajamas and tangled limbs. everything went to shit after you left, so if you were to get stuck here forever, he wouldn’t disapprove.

he listens to you talk as half of his mind is preoccupied by innocently kissing every inch of the exposed skin of your face and neck.

“i’m going to the salon tomorrow.”

he inwardly groans against your neck when your fingers card through his silky yet messy hair, twisting and tugging.

“what color should i color my hair? red? orange? brown?”

“red sounds really great?” he draws back in excitement. “but i’m going to miss your pink hair. how did you maintain it for so long?”

“i only chose it because it doesn’t look good on me.”

“that’s ridiculous!” he exclaims.

you snort. “i thought if it doesn’t fit me then it would seriously change the way i look.”

“then you were very wrong. it fits you so well.” he passionately insists that you see yourself from his point-of-view.

“you’re ridiculous.”

you don’t believe him, but he still earns himself a kiss on the lips.

“have you ever thought of getting a lip piercing?”

“why?” he fails to hide his smug grin. “would it look good on me?”

“mhmm, i imagine so.”

you lazily trace his lips with your thumb. it’s suddenly making him dizzy.

“should i get it then?”

“nope,” you reply with finality. “too many girls would fantasize about kissing you.”

he bursts out laughing. “isn’t that too much of a stretch?”

“i’m a girl! i’d know!”

“so you’re the jealous type, huh?” he cockily quirks an eyebrow.

“i’m not,” you scoff.

“possessive?”

“maybe,” you shrug.

“cool,” he chuckles. “you want to keep kissing?”

you don’t answer and instead you meet his lips halfway with a tug at the collar of his shirt. you’re an amazing kisser; his brain goes haywire once you tilt your head and you kiss him deeper, tongue sneaking in for a taste. he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else again.

as the tension escalates into something hotter, your wandering hand manages to slip under his shirt, teasing and caressing his skin. fuck, he feels like he’s running a fever. however, when your fingers begin tracing and teasing the waistband of his calvin klein boxers, much as it feels heavenly and stirs something feral deep within him, he has to pull away.

not too fast.

he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. he’s afraid you’re not thinking straight.

“are you free this weekend?” he asks as he catches his breath, tongue swiping over his swollen lips.

“saturday night,” you reply with a drunk smile.

“since you granted my birthday wish, shall we make your ferris wheel dream come true?”

your smile fades away a little. “where you work?”

he nods, but he senses your hesitation. “but we can go to a different one, if you’d like.”

as your silence stretches, he also begins to regret having asked you in the first place. after what happened only hours ago, you must not want to go out in public and risk reliving that experience.

“…doesn’t it bother you that your friends may have seen the video already?”

at that moment, taehyung’s voice rings in his ears.

‘honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?’

his heart breaks upon the sight of genuine fear swimming in your eyes. he dips his head to press a kiss on your forehead, and he hugs you tight. and tighter. he doesn’t pray much, or ask big questions, but he despises it when bad things happen to good people. he wants to protect you, but how?

“i’d tell them the truth. i’d fight for your case.”

“but what if they don’t believe you…?”

—

a deafening crash resonates in the break room as taehyung’s body slams against the lockers before collapsing on the floor.

“ah, seriously! i said it’s not her!”

“what the fuck, dude?!” taehyung yelps as he sits up, putting a hand over his assaulted cheek. he’s more offended than hurt if he’s being honest.

as it turns out, it does bother jungkook.

taehyung’s phone landed a few feet away from him. the video is still going, and unlike the people in the elevator, he didn’t have the courtesy to keep it muted. obscene moans and sounds of skin slapping repeatedly play from the speakers at a low volume.

“it’s so clear, look! how can it not be her?!”

“it’s edited! it’s ai, you fucking idiot!” jungkook scowls at him.

he picks up the phone, teeth gritted in anger as he exits the video and discovers that it’s posted at an adult website. the view count has reached five digits and the comment section is flooded. he knows this isn’t the only place it’s posted. hell, other people could have it downloaded. although it’s not your body, it’s still you being violated and lusted after. he feels sick to his stomach.

“you should’ve said that from the start!”

he looks away for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hard, hoping that would erase the explicit images and thumbnails from his memory. after gathering himself together, his eyes zero in on the report button.

he clicks ‘submit’ before he crumbles, weakly sitting down on the chair.

taehyung rushes to his phone that was tossed carelessly on the table. “ah shit- the screen is cracked!”

if this is how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.

he stares at the floor, eyes unfocused. the world goes on and his back remains hunched over as he struggles to make sense of what he should do.

—

when you were called over to the human resource department, you didn’t exactly prepare yourself to watch your alleged sex scandal on a 21.5-inch computer monitor. the light from the screen reflects on your skin. you have to harshly claw at the skin of your knee to stop it from anxiously bouncing; you force yourself not to also gag when the you on the screen chokes and gags.

“was this reported to you,” you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting your stare to the man in suit and tie. “or did you find it on your own?”

“miss ____,” he leans in on the table, clasping his hands together. the golden band around his finger shines under the dim lighting of his office. “do you even understand the kind of trouble you’re in?”

“am i being fired?”

“but you don’t have to be.” he bares his teeth as if he’s delivering good news. you long to destroy his face and his condescension with your bare hands. “i believe we can agree on an arrangement.”

“what do you mean…?” you ask carefully, grasping the tiny bit of hope that what you have in mind isn’t what he meant.

“i think you know what i mean. you’re smart.”

your heart drops to your stomach when he side-eyes the screen.

“do you expect me to beg for my job and do the same things i did in the video?”

“why?” his tone then becomes threatening. you begin to hear your heartbeat thumping loud in your chest. “you won’t do it?”

but if you allow yourself to be intimidated and treated less than a human being worthy of dignity and respect, then you may never be able to forgive yourself.

your sharp eyes and your cutting words make up for its trembles.

“you’re right, i’m smart. i know you don’t have enough grounds to fire me. you seriously think you can manipulate me this easy?” you contemptuously push over his name plate, the bronze metal tumbling and clashing with the wooden desk. “you’re not qualified for this job.”

your dismissal of his authority bruises his ego. he holds you in a hostile glare.

“if i were you, i would stop talking. right now.”

“or what?” you challenge him. “you’ll hit me…? what would your wife think when she hears about this conversation?”

his face is contorted with anger and frustration, but he is visibly holding himself back from doing something else that would damage his career.

“i plan on suing the people who are responsible for this. i’d appreciate it if-” you gesture at the monitor. “you can delete your copy too. i’ll clean my table and leave.”

“you have a real attitude problem, you know that? you need your eyes opened to the reality of life.” the alarms in your head starts blaring when he slowly gets up from his seat. “i think i know what i need to do to fix it.”

“don’t you dare touch me.” you grit your teeth, tears welling in your eyes as he circles his desk. “i will kill you.”

he squats on the floor beside you, wearing a mocking grin. you want to move away, but the chair is too small, and you’re determined to show him that you have no fear.

“you’ll kill me?”

he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back, and a scream is ripped out from your throat. the pain is mind-numbing; if he does it long enough, your guess is that you’d surely faint. he forces your head to the direction of the monitor.

“who you should be killing is the man who put you in this situation.”

you close your eyes. you try not to let him get under your skin, but the tears rolling down your cheeks are your self-made traitors.

you have. in your head. a million times. is it truly a man? is he even alone?

as you tiredly re-open your eyes, you unleash the pepper spray you’ve been holding under your thigh and begin spraying it all over his face. when he collapses on the floor, screaming and clawing at his own skin, your hand also falls limp over the armrest. you take a deep breath, blinking at the mess you made with heavy eyelids.

does it hurt that much or is he simply dramatic?

you’d stay and enjoy his demise, but you decide he’s not worth your time.

“____, come back here!”

“oh-” you freeze on your tracks.

you pull the lace of your company id over your head, hurling it at his face. he rolls over with an agonized groan.

“i quit!”

you unlock the door, dry your tears, and walk out of his office with your chin held high.

—

you stand at jungkook’s door, staring down at your shoes. you’ve been contemplating on whether you should knock or not. you want nothing more but to crawl into his arms, but a part of you is holding back. is it right to drag him into your world? you’d hate it if he becomes infected by your sadness. it broke you to pieces when he cried because he thought you were hurt. what would his reaction be if finds out what happened tonight?

“____!”

jungkook approaches with a plastic bag from a 24/7 restaurant nearby. judging by his tousled hair, he must’ve just woken up from a long nap. and you think to yourself—he’s so handsome—as he walks over to you and you scramble to collect yourself.

“have you been waiting long? sorry, i had to buy dinner.”

“i just got here.” you deny.

“is that so?” he stops infront of you, eyeing your outfit. “is everything alright? you’re home from work so early.”

“i went home.” you force a smile. “i’m not feeling so well.”

it takes everything in you not to cry when he starts stroking your hair with the gentlest hand.

“what’s wrong…?” he frowns. he worriedly presses the back of his hand on your forehead, then your neck. “you are a bit hot.”

“i think i just need some more sleep.” you dismiss the topic quickly, throwing your arms around his neck for the hug you’ve been yearning for since you walked out of that office.

his free arm wraps around waist, pulling you taut against him. he doesn’t ask you anything. like you, he closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his cheek against you, not taking any second for granted.

—

you spend the remaining days before saturday locked up in your apartment, withholding the fact that you quit your job from jungkook. with work gone and social media apps wiped out from your phone, there’s not much to do. just like always, you feed the fishes and converse throughout the day over the phone. they eat less and less as the weather gets colder. you bring up the growing size of the fishes and he agrees that they should be moved into a bigger tank soon. he sends you photos of him bored in class and you send him photos of you in bed. every second that passes by, you feel guilty for holding on to him until the very end.

you greet him with a radiant smile, opening the door just enough for him to see your face. you can tell that he styled his hair, sprayed on more perfume than usual. he looks absolutely dashing. it almost makes you mad.

“are you ready?”

you can feel the crushing weight of everything that hides behind the door. your clothes, your shoes, your self-care, your stacks of medical textbooks… your entire life packed in boxes and bags.

jungkook was right. out of everyone he liked, you must be the most cruel.

—

he doesn’t take you to his workplace, and instead brings you to their largest competitor. the amusement park is swarmed by locals and tourists alike, waiting for the firework show to commence. you hide your face with a thick scarf wrapped around your neck. you’ve been waiting, freezing, in line for over an hour, but you don’t mind it at all. it only means more time spent with jungkook.

you take turns in biting on the pretzel he bought to get rid of your boredom, happy and content in your shared bubble among the hundreds of voices within the vicinity conversing all at once. you become the other half of those lovey-dovey couples people cringe at in public. every now and then you and jungkook mimic a stranger’s voice, or the instrumental music from the nearby rides, and you laugh until your tummies ache. he hugs you to warm you up and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek.

“your hair looks even prettier in person.” jungkook compliments you with stars in his eyes.

“thank you! it turned out better than i expected. i’m really happy about it.” you gush, confidence renewed. you eat the last piece of the pretzel happily. “red or pink?”

“okay, red does suit you better,” he admits. “but i still think you were also beautiful in pink.”

“since you’re always saying that, i’m starting to believe it.”

“you should, because it’s true.”

“have i ever told you that you’re handsome?”

he shakes his head with a half-amused, half-sheepish smile.

“well, you’re very handsome,” you declare playfully, but you believe it a hundred percent.

“thank you,” he bursts into a fit of giggles, and it delivers you a special kind of joy— making him happy.

“lemonade?” he offers you the drink he’s holding.

you slot the straw between your lips, taking a few sips. your eyes widen in surprise, also delight. “it’s hot?”

“it’s good, right? i feel so warm.”

he sips on the drink himself. at the same moment, the line begins to move.

“oh! it’s our turn!”

he grabs a secure hold of your hand, not allowing a slither of chance of you slipping away from him. you give out your tickets, and the remains of them returned, one of them jungkook takes and the other, you slide into the pocket of your shoulder bag.

“oh, it’s too high-”

your nervous pondering is interrupted by a yelp, thanks to jungkook effortlessly lifting you into the moving cabin with his hands on your hips. with a boyish grin, he jumps in after you.

—

he curiously watches you set up your phone on the parallel side of your shared seat, you and him filmed by the front camera and displayed on the screen. he chooses not to say anything, but he is pleasantly surprised that you are the first one who initiated on recording this memory.

once you fix it into the perfect angle, you return and sit beside him with a hint of satisfaction painted on your expression. but as soon as the the cabin quakes mildly, it morphs into nervousness.

“it’s okay, it’s normal.” he strokes the back of your head, reassuring you. “are you afraid of heights?”

you scoot closer to him, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment when you innocently lay your hand just above his knee. “i try not to be.”

“i was going to suggest the rollercoaster next, but maybe not.”

once again, the cabin moves, causing a whimper to emit from your throat. your nails begin to dig into his thigh, their sharpness dulled by his denim pants.

“anything but that- i have bad memories with the rollercoaster.”

“maybe i should sit on the other side to balance ourselves bett-”

“stay!” you quickly pull him back down, resulting to another shake. “in my dream, we sit next to each other.”

“oh,” his lips shape into a smirk. “anything else i should know about?”

“you had your arm around me.” you bat your eyelashes.

he does as you request, hugging you to his side.

“like this?”

you shake your head with a sound of disagreement, moving his hand from your arm down to the curve of your waist.

“you suddenly remember everything.” he remarks with a teasing squeeze of your flesh.

you sheepishly smile, shrugging. “eh, i remember this much.”

he loves moments like this— when your innocence rises to the surface and allows him a glimpse of your purest parts. they completely contradict everything your brain leads you to think is for your protection. you don’t want to be alone, and you do want to be held.

amidst his bittersweet musing, the night sky begins to be lit up by a sequence of launched explosives, shooting off glowing embers that descend slowly through the air.

he jolts on his seat and clings to you as a result.

“ah, that scared me!” he whines in annoyance.

you spare his scaredy-cat moment a short giggle. you barely pay him any mind; you didn’t even look at him. jungkook decides to watch the fireworks from your wonder-filled eyes. the colors soar across your irises— he can’t really differentiate the silver and the gold; there’s also blue and green; a lot of red.

his view from here is one-of-a-kind. he temporarily mistakes you for a painting. brings out his phone. snaps photos of you like one instinctively does in an art gallery.

the mortification only sets in when your eyes meet the camera and upon realizing, you give him your dazzling smile.

“you should watch the fireworks too.” you scold him lightheartedly, redirecting his hands outside. “they’re amazing.”

and he obeys you.

for a short while.

you catch him longingly gazing at you sooner the second time around. he likes that he doesn’t need to look away anymore because his feelings are already out in the open, and most importantly, reciprocated. he catches your eyes flicker to his lips. he swears this is the most romantic scene of his life. will anything ever come close? you cup his cheek in your delicate hand, bringing your plush lips to his. he wonders how many times you also hesitated to kiss him before. how long would it take before he has kissed you more times than he didn’t?

—

jungkook is glued to his phone, walking at a slower pace behind while you search the spacious parking lot for your motorbike.

the wicked reality he stole you from momentarily waves at him as a reminder that ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. a notification from a fan that says they found a clip of your video on another social media platform and reported it there too. a notification containing the link. he clicks on the app and finds that his latest video has reached almost half a million views.

technology has gone too far. how is there no law for this yet??? someone's life is ruined

what is this. you've totally ruined the video for me

jungkook!! when are you going live again?

everyone stop spreading the video around!!!!!!!!!! report it if you see it!!!!

but how come you suddenly made a ten min vid talking against ai so passionately? do you know this girl personally?? haha

lol? he already talked about ai in a live before. his follower would know that he knows a lot about editing and technology too. hes using his knowledge for good. stop assuming

it was obvious from the start ㅠㅠ the expressions look a bit unnatural. this is unsettling.... i feel so bad for her

um .. am i the only one who doesn't know about this

you're better off not knowing 😭

it's gone viral recently

how? it's all over my feed

his temples throb with a threat of an incoming headache. he can only hope and pray that he didn’t do more harm than good… and by some miracle you don’t find out about this, at least not before he is prepared to see you mad at him again. sharply inhaling, he swipes out of the comment section and tucks his phone back into his small crossbody bag.

“wait for me!”

he jogs to catch up to you, hurling himself to your back. you are both nearly knocked over if not for him throwing his strong arms around you.

“you’re so hyper. are you a puppy?” you groan. “go put your helmet on.”

“this hurts my pride. i said i’m not wearing it again!”

he is, once again, left with no choice when you forcefully shove your only helmet over his head.

“calm down, nothing bad will happen anyway.”

“this feels so wrong.” he continues complaining. “everyone i know owns an extra, just so you know.”

“well, i never planned on riding with a passenger.” you pull down the visor, sealing the deal. “hold on tight, okay?”

—

how often do you see a man on the road sitting at the back of an expensive motorbike that his cool girlfriend drives? jungkook wishes someone could take a photo and send it to him as a memento because being that man is pretty darn fun. except for the part that you’re not wearing a helmet and he’s also freaking out in the back of his mind, especially when the vehicle tilts even at the slightest.

but yeah, fun.

until the rain starts to come down and he ends up numb from the freezing cold.

your driving speed decreases. you move farther into the center of the lane to avoid the slippery paint on asphalt.

“jungkook, remove my glasses.” you instruct him urgently.

“okay!” his arm freezes in the air. “wait, where do i put it?”

“fuck, anywhere. over my head!”

—

owing it to your driving experience and extreme carefulness of your passenger, you park at your designated parking space safely. by the time you do so, the rain has become a downpour.

“run!” you shout as you both begin to brave it.

for the record, jungkook tried.

his shoe slides against the wet and slippery ground and a startled scream leaves his mouth as it all happens too fast. he lands on his butt, but loses balance again and ends up completely lying down in the middle of the parking lot.

“jungkook!”

alongside the fierce raindrops, your frantic footsteps bringing you to jungkook contest in creating loud splashes. you get down on your knees, forcibly shaking his frame with yet another call of his name.

“are you okay? where are you hurt?!”

garnering no response, you resort to giving his face weak slaps.

“stand up. this isn’t funny.”

his ears catch you blowing out a sigh, layered underneath is the most adorable growl he has ever heard— reminds him of a tiger cub. there is the lightest trace of smile on his lips as you carry his head over to your lap with utmost gentleness.

“jungkook!”

you wipe his rain-soaked face with your rain-soaked hands as if it would do something. he dies of laughter inside.

“are you being serious right now?!”

he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the other, greeting you with the most gleeful giggle. he’s so stupidly happy it’s almost painful. chest-restricting. doesn’t help much when you hit his chest, rightfully so, and he laughs harder.

“ugh, you’re so annoying!”

his upper body tumbles over again to the wet ground when you return to your feet. the view from here is not that bad. he is losing half his mind from the cold and his eyes are blurry from the rain. it presents itself as the perfect opportunity to say something cheesy about going to heaven, but would an angel nudge him with their foot and say “stand up. we’re totally going to get sick now, you jerk!” before running away?

in jungkook’s defense, he checked the weather forecast this morning. it’s painfully clear to him now that they lied. the two of you are dripping all over the floor mat in front of the building’s entrance doors. there is no other choice but to wring your clothes here to minimize the trail of mess you will leave behind when you go up to your units.

you’re squeezing out the water from your hair. he is left with a white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he does the same with his sweater.

the earthy and distinct smell of the rain clings to the air, and therefore, everything.

“jungkook,”

“yes?” he cranes his head to your direction and your eyes connect.

“don’t get sick.”

“i won’t! i’m healthy. i only get sick once a year.” he boasts with a grin.

given the length difference, jungkook’s method is messier than yours— he shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy.

“okay, rude-” you chide at him, flinching away from the shower.

“oh i’m sorry!”

didn’t think about that, he winces.

“aquarium after showering?”

—

“worms make me queasy.” you make a noise of disgust as you dispose of your plastic gloves.

“but clem loves them.”

“true,” you return beside jungkook, who is watching your five beloved swimmers with pure fascination. “but not as much as coral does.”

“sometimes i wonder if they’re getting tired of seeing our faces everyday.”

“i hope not,” you frown.

after all, they’ve taken over a considerable chunk of your daily life for the past half year. you worried more about their meals than your own. you hated it when clementine and dahlia would get scared and hide from you at the beginning. you worked hard to gain their trust. how long will it take for them to forget you? contrary to the three-second memory span myth, you read that they can keep memories for weeks, some claim months, at least five, or even years.

“yeah, probably not because they associate us with food.” he chuckles.

“that’s true.”

he straightens up and drops himself on the couch. while you’re alone, you take your time to prepare your heart.

you try your hardest to look at every little detail of each fish, anything you haven’t seen before. you always loved the way their tail and fins glide and flow as they swim, reminiscent of long hair blowing with the wind. when they play about the shipwreck, it feels you’re being healed. something broken can still be a source of joy.

“i had a wonderful time, by the way.” you turn to jungkook, making your way to where he is. “thank you for tonight.”

“me too. i was so happy.”

he squeezes you to his side, dipping to press a kiss to your temple. you never understood people who preferred forehead kisses until you met jungkook. a kiss on the lips meant being wanted, and maybe that was everything to you.

“but i’m buying the extra helmet myself tomorrow.”

“you don’t have to do that!”

while he laughs, you force a smile.

there’s no point. there will be no next time.

“no but thank you for everything, really… my life has been a living nightmare but- but i felt like a person again when i was with you.”

you take a pause, willing yourself not to cry. you need to tell him everything you haven’t said so you can live with less regrets.

“you’re such a kind person. i’m sorry that i always lashed out on you too. just because i was hurting doesn’t make it right to hurt you.”

“why are you talking like that?” he questions you suspiciously. he masks his nervousness with a tone of humor. “it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

because you are…

you’ve never been good at goodbyes. the original plan was to leave in the middle of the night without letting him know, leaving a note was an option. either way you know that you will hurt him, and as an admitted coward, you didn’t want to witness that.

but in the future, when you reminisce about him, you don’t want to be overcome with guilt. and when he reminisces about you, you don’t want memories of you to be tainted with bitter resentment. you hope that when either one of you sheds tears, the pain of loss eventually becomes gratitude for what you had momentarily.

and so, you take a deep breath.

“i need to tell you something.”

he stares back into your eyes without saying anything. in the duration of that silence, jungkook is able to interpret and predict where your shared story is heading.

“you’re leaving…”

the end.

you never considered that hearing him say it would hurt much more than telling him yourself.

“when?”

“my flight is in six hours. i’m so sorry.”

you nearly break down into the tears, but you harshly chew on your bottom lip. you can’t cry, not in front of him. you don’t have the right.

“my parents, they finally forgave me… i can continue studying with their help. but no one wants to accept me here anymore, i tried, everywhere… so i’m going back with them to milan.”

“where they work…” he says meekly. he remembers you mentioning it in passing.

“can’t you postpone?” he tries to spark up even a smallest crumb of hope. he places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly. “even just for a day?”

you shake your head, unable to look him in the eyes, but you flip your hand over so you can hold his. and you do. tightly. and when it doesn’t feel enough, you use both hands and you clasp him in between.

the silence in between is suffocating.

“when will you come back?”

“i don’t know.”

“i can wait-”

“no, you can’t.” you interrupt, looking at him decisively. “you shouldn’t.”

with hardened features, he challenges your stare. you’re not scared or intimidated. he’s not angry. he’s just…

“that’s not for you to decide.”

fighting for you.

you’d be a hypocrite if you said that you wished he wouldn’t.

“jungkook, please, don’t.”

you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so he won’t be able to see your face and decipher your thoughts. deep inside, with logic thrown outside the window, where all you can see and feel and touch is him, you wish that he would beg and convince you to stay.

“you’d only waste your time doing that. you’ll meet someone else…”

those words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. possessive, he jokingly described you once.

“don’t say that.” he interjects.

“you deserve to be happy, jungkook. there is so much more to life.”

“i knew- i-i had a feeling you would leave soon. i just didn’t know when.”

a tear drips from your eyelash; you hug him tighter and wipe it off on his shoulder.

“i wish i could’ve done more.” he utters regretfully. “to help you. and comfort you. you endured everything on your own…”

“you believed me and you stayed with me. you did more than everybody else.”

taking away the science of it, it’s common knowledge that a hug has wondrous healing effects. it’s one of those things that we naturally learn through experience, feeling. the hormone and neurotransmitter oxytocin can affect how we feel and respond to pain. studies say that it kicks in for hugs that last at least six to twenty seconds.

“will you be okay there?” he whispers. he’s gently stroking the expanse of your back and it feels like getting tucked into bed.

by now, you’ve been hugging jungkook for over twenty seconds, and you realize that the time is irrelevant. perhaps what they are referring to are the hugs you wouldn’t mind staying in forever.

“i’m scared,” you confess. “but i’ll be okay.”

a glimpse at the aquarium and enters a silly, gutwrenching thought.

“you know… maybe in another life,” you peek fondly into a future that may very well never exist. “we’re old and married, and we have a big pond instead of an aquarium.”

jungkook draws back and stares you down with his tearful eyes.

you clear your throat, face going warm with regret. “sorry-”

“you’re impossible-” he mutters before leaning in to kiss you.

you’re frozen at first, mind going blank, until he’s kissing you deeper, gripping your waist tighter, with intense emotions you’ve never felt him express before, and you are forced to remember that this kiss is a goodbye.

your hands around his neck fall over his shoulders, and you grant him the power to let you fall into the abyss where nothing else exists but the two of you.

you stop worrying about the time ticking.

you do not think about pulling away.

he is the one who breaks the kiss and your heart is broken.

his gaze is heaving with longing as does his aching chest. “why can’t it be in this life?”

you think this is when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. jungkook is once in a lifetime. he is the person you will dedicate a memoir to when you reach the point in life where the only thing left to do is to look back. revealing the closet full of skeletons of who you were and who you will never become. he will be the subject of your what if’s, the other main character of the alternate version of your life story. the cynics will clamor, your time together was too short for it to have meant something, ignorant of the most lamentable grief— and you will envy them for it.

the corners of your mouth are lifted into a wistful smile. “fate made us meet at the wrong time, when i’m the wrong person for us.”

—

when you arrive at your apartment, you are deprived of the privacy to break down. your brother and your family driver, mister lee, have only begun hauling your bags and boxes. you try to ignore their presence, head straight to the bathroom, but as always, your brother doesn’t allow you peace.

“are you seriously bringing your motorbike too?”

you take a deep breath to compose yourself, but you still end up gritting your teeth. “it’s mine.”

“it’s too expensive to have it shipped-”

“shut up, you’re not the one paying for it.”

you turn on your heel, but you become rooted into place when you hear jungkook’s name.

“that boy you were with- jungkook, is it?”

you face with him a look of suspicion, eyebrows furrowing. “why do you care?”

he casually leans against the kitchen cabinet, hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “he must genuinely like you a lot to make that video. the tide has turned because of him.”

“wh-what are you saying?” you sputter. “what video?”

he narrows his eyes at you. “you don’t know what i’m talking about?”

“are you fucking with me again?”

“yeah- okay, nevermind.” he dismisses the topic, straightening up to pick up one of the boxes that will be carried to his car.

“moon!” you irritatedly shout his name, throwing the first thing that your hand touches. the comb hits his back before falling on the floor with a smack. “what is it?!”

“god, ___! it’s nothing! forget about it!” he barks, going straight for the front door with two boxes stacked in his arms. “go and make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything. i don’t need you nagging me when a package gets lost on its way to milan.”

you’re obviously having a hard time. can’t he go a little gentler on you?

“and cover your face.”

“does it matter? i’m already leav-”

“dad asked for it— not me. just do it, ____.”

you weakly slump back against the wall. you have no fight left in you today. you’d like to commend yourself for making it this far, surviving the worst of the worst and having the courage to come out of the tunnel, but you fail to make the distinction between being strong and becoming jaded.

“ma’am-” mister lee offers you a handkerchief. “i found it in one of the drawers. did you mean to leave it behind?”

you shake your head, and with a cold, shaky hand, you take it from his open palm.

once the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, there is no more stopping them.

as a sign of respect to you, he also leaves the room.

you choke back a sob, clutching to your chest— the handkerchief you were never sure if you were given or you stole.

—

jungkook’s tears glimmer from the lighter’s dancing flame. after several clicks, he manages to light up the cigarette. he isn’t innocent–after all he’s already an adult—but it’s a habit he makes an effort to avoid. surely, he can give himself a pass today, though. he’s heartbroken, and he feels pathetic enough hanging out in the alleyway you frequented.

he blankly stares at the lighter you believe you lost due to your carelessness. thinking back to your words from earlier, he’s furious at how calm you appeared. it was an easy decision— leaving him behind.

the rain has stopped, but raindrops collected by the roof still trickle to the ground and clang against metal pipes.

with trembling lips, he exhales the smoke— a sob threatens to be ripped from his throat and he roughly covers his mouth to stop it.

what could possibly be the lesson he’s supposed to learn from this pain?

he didn’t know where else to go. at his apartment, he’d feel you leave. at the lobby, he’d see you leave. he’d go far, but he doesn’t want to be too far. until the very end, he is at your disposal.

you could’ve been the one. no, he desperately wanted you to be the one. if you had stayed, he would’ve loved you as often as he breathed— but your paths intertwined only to be unraveled.

some sadistic tool, fate is. what was the point of finding you again?

a passerby’s fleeting shadow blocks all sources of light casted over jungkook’s secret place.

you wear your only carry-on, a duffle bag, around your body.

you cross the street with unhurried steps.

as you climb into your getaway car, jungkook flicks off the ash from the cigarette held between his fore and middle fingers.

the tires roll over the wet asphalt, leaving behind a hissing echo. your brother’s car follows suit.

thirty-five, thirty-six… jungkook anxiously counts the vehicles he hears driving away.

was one of them you?

…are you gone?

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts reaction

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maitimosrighthand · 15 days ago

Text

141 x Succubus male reader( oc )

This is part 2: Here is part one

Authors Note: ( not beta read )

Most of the characters in this story will be their usual hybrid type. Ghost( Demon ), Soap( Wolf ), Gaz( Eagle ) and Price( Dragon ).

Please note that this series will eventually contain +18 contents. Minors do not interact.

Yes this will contain heats and ruts. You horny bastards 🫵

( The reader or oc (idk) is described as rather feminine. Not like that but well they are a succubus so they are that way. Gooner bait. It’s genetics.

Just like Price‘s sexiness-

Chapter 2: Lets start a bar fight!

You tried finding a local bar or something similar. A brothel would do just fine as well.

It’s been some time since you last ate and the medication that could possibly satisfy your hunger has been getting more expensive by the minute. It’s not because they were selling bad, no it’s because they’re normally used as aphrodisiacs against or for animals and hybrids. So not only are they used by everyone but you also need to state reason and amount of what you need to have as well as some other information like residence.

And a mercenary cannot exactly give away their location. So the only way you occasionally got some was from someone in a back alley. And those usually did not taste that good since they were mostly self made.

You passed by some people who looked drunk so you continued into that direction hoping to find a bar. And soon enough you smelled the scent of excitement. You did not need to go inside smelling and tasting it from outside was more than enough, so you leaned against the wall of the bar and scrolled on your phone seeing nothing worth while until…

„New law regarding Hybrids? Is this legal?“ the headline stood out to you. It could have been your average fake news if not thousands of people talking and commenting about it online. You were too scared to tap on it. You were sure that everything you were about to read in there would certainly not be very mind stimulating. You were about to click on it nonetheless until the door next to you opened up. „You coming in or not?“ a raspy voice said. He must be drunk already since you could smell the booze from his clothes.

„No thank you. Waiting for someone.“ you tried avoiding him. He was about to say something when your phone started to ring. Perfect timing. You quickly answered. „Hey.“ and walked away. You did not know who it was but for some reason no one answered you. You took the phone away from your ear and looked at the caller. It was Asher.

„Are we doing the silent treatment? What going on?“ You heard her signing before she asked: „What are you doing at this bar? You can’t afford that. Now get in! I‘ll sponsor you one drink.“ When you turned around and looked through the glass you saw Asher sitting there waving at you.

Well ok. One couldn’t hurt right?

You shoved the man and the door aside to enter the bar. The location was a bit run down. Some wallpaper was coming off and the lights would flicker on occasion. The worst however was the penetrating smell of vomit and drugs.

Sitting down next to Asher you were about to look what on the list but she had already ordered a whisky for you. „I don’t necessarily like whisky and you know that. So what’s this about?“ „Stop complaining.“ And that’s all she said. The silence after stretched on for longer than comfortable. Something had to be wrong with her, apart from being drunk. You assumed it had to be something personal, considering how she has not yet told you about it.

Your thoughts were spiraling. Was she caught or had you done something wrong? There must be something wrong. Family? Maybe her wife was acting up! Oh you knew it, it had to be-„I am pregnant.“

…

„You got to be kidding-.“ you started quickly correcting yourself. „I mean, congrats! Yay. But uhm. Was it planed?“ She only gave you a glare. That probably meant yes. Considering the situation you gulped down the whole glass of whiskey in one go.

The burn traveled down your throat distracting you from any other thoughts that may from in this situation. You regretted it immediately. „You said you‘ll pay?“ „Yes.“ Soon another drink followed alongside some deep talk with a lot of unresolved feelings. Until it was almost 2am and the bar closed. This was usually also the time when drug dealers would decide to leave for home and sniff their own stuff.

Yet for some reason the two of you were drunk enough to find one and buy a bunch of medicine for you to last the next few weeks. You weren’t sure if you actually paid that night or if you beat him up because of some moral compass you totally had.

The only thing you were sure of was ,that when you woke up in a hotel on a sofa, it was a not a good idea. Your head was spinning and you felt worse than you did before the night. Random smells flooded your nose and you quickly realized your were in a love hotel.

A quick glance and you were sure you went here alone. You decided to text Asher and see if you left her behind or something.

—————————————————————-

Quick question, did I leave ya to die somewhere?

Nah. I think you did however throw up on me. Get your head out of the clouds and then view the next mission Details I have you last night.

Alright you old woman. Geez. Did I do something?

No. But it’s important you have to be there soon.

—————————————————————-

You looked around the room after freshening up in the bathroom. You found some documents scattered around but about 3 pages were missing. You could still read most of the information on the ones you had.

It was about an illegal trading scheme with aphrodisiac‘s in the backstreets. It wouldn’t have been a big deal but it was claimed to be from a succubus. „Great so I am in this?“ you cursed at the papers. You were uninvolved but be honest, how many succubus did you know in this region. Close to zero, just you. Asher must be interested because this would make you a suspect if it got out to police.

„Location: Warehouse 023 on the north side of the local town called Wesber.“ you read out loud before realizing you were in that exact town. You quickly grabbed your stuff and made sure to hide anything suspicious like weapons and stuff.

You carefully opened the door before slipping away quickly and soundless. While it was in the morning you probably should at least check the warehouse out from the outside so that your mission would not go south in the evening.

Well that plan was partially built on the fact that no one noticed you.

But that didn’t work out.

It had been a gun that was suddenly pointed at the back of your head when you tried to inspect one of the nearby vehicles, you had been thinking of sabotaging them but that was hardly in your field of expertise. You couldn’t be perfect at everything.

Then the gun hit your head. A shiver ran down your spine while your head tried to understand how you did not hear them coming.

A growl came up behind you and moments later it smelled like fish. ‚A demon!‘ was your last thought before your body went into overdrive. Things moved to fast and too slow at the same time. Your claws thrashed around you with force successfully injuring your opponent a few times in the process. Using that short span of surprise you placed some space between each other.

The demon now in front of you regained his composure too fast, seemingly not having been hurt at all. ‚Did I miss?‘

He appeared behind you faster than you could follow barely missing you with his claws. This wasn’t good. You weren’t in the best condition to begin with and now someone equally strong if not stronger was fighting you.

Your last chance would be to appear as the person he desired the most but you weren’t sure if it’s as effective on other demons.

In a short moment you tried to get a better picture of your predator. Tall, muscular, completely black and was that black smoke? ‚Shit, I need got to get out of here.‘ You barely managed to use illusions on that guy before he attacked again, this time however faltering in his attack. ‚It worked‘

Using this opportunity you launched yourself at him getting a clear hit to his chest poisoning him. This however took a toll on you and now retreat was the only option.

Your chest was heaving and begging for more air while you ran. Partially due to the running but also out of fear. Fighting other demons was not good. You were merely equipped to deal with desires and emotions of your victims. You may be a bit faster but not nearly as stamina having as that guy.

And he had muscles.

Stop lusting you damn horndog.

You had to admit your last meal had been too long ago. Maybe you really should go back to that hotel.

„Oof.“ was the only sound escaping you as you ran into something during your lusting thoughts. „Verdammte scheiße.“( Fucking Shit) was the only thing escaping you as someone tried to restrain you. You tried hitting them but you were quickly overpowered by the multiple people on your enemy side.

„Get the syringe and knock him the fuck out!“ A voice screamed. It was fairly deep and sounded like someone who‘d smoke at least one pack of cigarettes a day.

Or maybe he‘s just old.

A syringe was inserted into your neck. You waited for your vision to blacken but you only felt better by the second.

…

‚Thats my own damn poison you idiots!‘ you then bit one of the men holding you down. „Tastes like wet dog!“ Before escaping the clutches and attempting to catch them in your illusion.

In the middle of it they seemed calm. „It should take effect soon.“ The man with the hat spoke calmly. „No it won’t! You cannot use my own-…“

You stiffed. Those were the men you had helped yesterday! „What the hell are you doing!“ you screamed at them maybe just a bit angry. „Identify yourself.“ A man seemingly calm asked you.

„None of our business. We have him. Let’s get him to Laswell! Wait why am I feeling so tired?“ Your last resort. Putting them to sleep with your singing. ‚Shit this is harder than I thought. They must be beasts too-‚ then it went dark.

You had used to much of your already none existing energy.

…

—————————————————————————

Carefully the group got closer. „What do we do Price?“ Gaz asked inspecting the passed out man. „We should probably- holy shit! Ghost?“ The man now bleeding finally arrived at the scene. His breathing ragged. Soap immediately came over to him but Ghost went right past him towards the unconscious body.

„He isn’t who we were searching for. He panicked thinking I was his enemy, my approach may have been wrong.“ „Tell us the whole story at the base. Gaz, Soap pack him up!“

#cod x male reader #141 x male reader #cod x reader #gaz x male reader #ghost x male reader #price x male reader #soap x male reader #inncorrect quotes

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.

Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.

She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces?

"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since.

She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself.

Your whispers call out in the darkest shadows, My heart answers like a flame, Igniting this shared space with every breath I take, Giving you a love that will never find the end. It binds me to you, pulsing through my veins, Emotions like I've never known before. I've doubted that I could reach this place, But I feel endlessly sure here now.

Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States.

"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months.

It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.

When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work.

"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day.

At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.

Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad.

"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.

The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces.

"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"

"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus.

"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.

Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down.

"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."

"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"

Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."

She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.

"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly.

"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"

"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"

Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."

Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."

Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.

"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."

"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing."

There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."

Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."

Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"

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

"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."

Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish.

"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table.

"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."

His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.

I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.

This is Anna, by the way.

I should have started with that information.

Wow. This is already embarrassing.

Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."

"Good night, Robert."

Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings.

I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.

He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.

Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)

Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.

The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.

That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption.

Did I miss anything?

He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.

Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?

Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.

Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.

Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.

He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular.

Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.

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

Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.

She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform.

"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy.

When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them.

"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes.

Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry.

Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked.

Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.

I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library.

When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.

Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.

Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away.

"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.

Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.

She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.

Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.

"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.

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

Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"

"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"

He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."

She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."

"Too late."

She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."

Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.

Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"

He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."

"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."

"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."

When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."

"You keep saying 'next time'."

Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."

"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."

She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way.

"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him.

He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."

Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."

"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips.

"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.

Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."

"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."

Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.

"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."

When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.

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

When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt.

She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.

She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Within minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was.

"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read.

She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive.

The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.

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

Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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fanfictiongirlie · 4 months ago

Text

Twilight: The Human and the Wolf Chapter Thirteen

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x OC (First person, no use of Y/N)

Description: Bella Swan's twin moved to Forks with her sister. Whilst Bella falls for a vampire, her twin falls for a wolf. The story runs parallel to Bella's story in Twilight. But following her twin and her life with the wolves.

Rating: Eventually explicit.

Warnings: None

Chapter Thirteen - Behave Wolf Boy

School had started back up, and with that came mine and Bella's birthday. Finally I would be eighteen! Whereas Bella dreaded our birthday, never liking the idea of getting older like the dramatic girl she was, I loved the idea of getting older. I hated being a teenager and couldn't wait to finally be an adult. Though I did hate always being in school on my birthday.

Bella and I drove to school and parked next to each other in our usual spots, I stepped out from the car and idly played with the necklace around my neck. An early present from Paul, a beautiful silver chain with a small wolf charm at the end.

I waited with Bella for a short while until Edward came to her, I was going to leave as soon as he arrived but I saw Jacob, I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Happy birthday!" He mumbled to me in the hug. Once I had said goodbye I rushed of to class not wanting to walk with Edward. I walked into the class and took my usual seat next to Alice. She smiles when she sees me, and then leans in closer to me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, perturbed by her closeness. The closer she got to me the colder I felt. Alice giggles softly at my question, it made me feel more stressed.

"Oh, nothing. Just admiring your necklace. It's really pretty. Who gave it to you?" She asks, her tone all bubbly.

"My boyfriend" I answer.

"It's adorable. He must really like you. What's his name?" She asks.

"Paul" I anwer blankly as I start to take notes for the class.

"Paul, huh? He must be quite the guy to give you such a thoughtful gift" She says. I roll my eyes a little, I wanted to be left alone to concentrate on the class. Maybe if she were human we'd get along, because she seemed nice. But she was a vampire, and that stressed me out.

"Yep" I answer quietly.

"He sounds like he really cares about you. Tell me more about him"

"I'd rather concentrate on the lesson" I answer, a little confused as to why she was asking so many questions about Paul. It made me nervous, did she know he was a wolf...Did the Cullens have something against them? Would they hurt them? She chuckles at my response, she leans back into the seat, her expression still tinged with a curious glimmer.

"Uhh no?" I answer, she was friends with Bella. Not me, I couldn't understand the random sweetness. She was normally a little talkative with me, but never this much. I was glad when the questions stopped, I focused on my work for the rest of the class.

Once class was over, I left quickly whipping my phone out, I flipped up the screen and started typing a text out to Paul, telling him I missed him. I walked into my next classroom and took my seat next to Mike. I no longer shared History with him, classes had moved around a little since the new school year started.

"Hey Mike" I say as I place my books down.

"Hey, how's it going?" He asks smiling that wide smile at me.

"Pretty good" I answer "It's my birthday"

"Really? Happy birthday! You're eighteen now, right?"

"Yeah!" I answer excitedly. "It sucks a little bit, cause my boyfriend's still seventeen for a few months"

"That does kinda suck. But hey, it's not that much of a difference, right? Just a few months"

"Yeah, his birthday is in January time" I smile, idly playing with the necklace. We chatted a little more throughout the class, it was nice, he no longer tried flirting with me, and instead we were becoming friends.

Once class was over I walked over to the canteen, I looked around seeing Bella. Annoyingly she was sitting with the Cullens, I huffed a little and walked over to them. I wanted to sit with my sister, so sit with my sister I shall. It wasn't all of the Cullens, Rosalie and Emmett had left school for college or whatever vampires do after they finish school.

"Don't look so grumpy" Bella mumbles to me as I sink further into my seat. She didn't know the real reason I was grumpy, I didn't want to be near these vampires and I didn't want my sister near them.

"I uhh, I just miss Paul" I say quickly, trying to cover my distaste for the Cullens. Edward scoffed quietly, I gave him a weird look. I turn my attention back to Bella.

"I get it. But try not to let it ruin your day" She says.

"I won't...birthday woo" I say, grinning playfully as I answer sarcastically. She rolls her eyes playfully at me, a small smiling tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, happy birthday. We're a year older" She says with a groan.

"What's your problem with getting older, Bells?" I ask. She shrugs, poking uninterestedly at her food.

"I don't know, it's just...aging feels depressing. Like time is slipping away and we're getting closer to....well dying"

"Jeez Bella, overdramatic much" I say with a laugh.

"Shut up" She says, joining my laugh weakly. "You're just as old as me"

"No, I'm eighteen years young" I answer with a smirk. She scoffs but a smirk plays over her lips.

"Yeah, right. We're both old now. Practically ancient. We'll be using canes next year and shouting at kids to get off our lawn" She rambles, I watch her with wide eyes, a smile on my lips. Sure she was dramatic, but she did make me laugh. I shake my head and laugh, I pull my phone out to text Paul.

'Hey you' I type. He replies almost instantly.

'Hey beautiful'

'Are we still having birthday celebrations at Emily's?'

Paul's reply is quick and affirmative.

'Of course we are. The whole pack's excited to party with you, birthday girl'

'I can't wait' I text back.

'Neither can I. I'm gonna get you alone at some point during the celebration ;)' Paul texts.

I giggle to myself, making Bella look at me with an expression that tells me she might be asking to read my texts later. I poke my tongue out at her and text Paul back.

'Behave wolf boy'

Paul's response is playful, with a hint of desire 'No promises, sweet cheeks. I can't help it knowing how sexy you'll look in a party dress ;)'

'You have no idea what I'll wear' I text back.

'Ooh, a mystery. Teasing me already, huh? I can't wait to see you. You're going to drive me crazy'

'Get back to class dork' I text.

'Alright, alright. Talk to you later beautiful, can't wait to celebrate your birthday'

I smiled at the last text and put my phone away, leaving the charm looped into the phone hanging from my pocket.

"What class do you have next Bells?" I ask, the smile from my conversation with Paull still on my lips. Bella looks at her schedule for a moment before answering.

"Hmm, I've got Biology next, what about you?"

"History" I answer with a smile, my favourite class.

"Good luck with that. I've hate history" She mumbles.

"I like history, it's fun" I say with a shrug.

"Can't relate. Jasper is really good at history" She says, I nod, momentarily looking to Jasper. He looked...well. In pain? He gives me a polite nod as our gaze meets for a moment.

"Right, I guess I'll go. I'm going straight to Emily's after school, so I'll see you tomorrow Bells. Happy birthday, enjoy your party at the Cullens" I smirk, Bella groaned a little, obviously regretting telling me about the party in the text after first class.

My last class of the day went by quickly and as soon as the bell rang I rushed to my car, I decided to drive home first, I changed into a new dress I bought, I wasn't going to dress up, but after that text conversation, I decided, why not. The dress itself was cute, completely black, it was a tight corset type dress at the top, and as it met my hips it flowed down, ending just above my knees.

I left the house and drove to Emily's house. I was buzzing with excitement as I parked my car close to the trees. As I arrived, I saw Paul, Sam, Jared and Emily all standing outside, each wearing a warm smile. They had set up some decorations and the porch was decked out with balloons and streamers. Paul's eyes widened as I left my car and he saw my outfit.

"Damn, you look amazing" He says walking towards me, I gasped a little. He wasn't wearing his usual denim shorts and nothing else for once. He had full length jeans on with a black muscle tee. And they were tight against his body. He looked mouth watering.

"Thanks baby" I answer, I giggled as I stepped closer to him, giving him a quick kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. He returned the kiss, a hint of desire flickered in his eyes as he looked at me, his gaze roaming over my body appreciatively.

"Happy birthday, beautiful" He grins, he leans in and whispers. "You're gonna drive me crazy in that dress, you know that?"

"That's the plan" I grin, kissing his cheek. I then move away, rushing to Emily to hug her. "You didn't have to do all this"

"Of course we did! It's your birthday! We wanted to make it special for you"

"You guys are the best!" I grin, I move to hug both Sam and Jared. Jared and I then did our dumb little handshake we made up a few weeks ago. We moved inside and the decorations only got busier as we walked in, everywhere was covered in something birthday related, and Emily must of been busy all day cooking food for the party, the dining room table was covered in plates of food, I was wide eyed and shocked. I felt so important as I looked around the room. In the corner there was also a small pile of presents. Paul then stepped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear as he spoke.

"I don't think I'm gonna be able to keep my hands off you in this dress, y'know" He whispers.

"Behave yourself" I whisper back. He chuckles softly, the sound making me feel fuzzy inside.

"Can't help it, sweetheart. You look so damn sexy, I'm only human y'know"

"Half human, wolfie" I answer back, giggling.

"Watch it, birthday girl" He whispers, his lips brushing my earlobe as he speaks, making me feel like jelly in his arms. "Just for that, I'm definitely not gonna behave later"

"Respect your elders Paulie" I say with a laugh, teasing him for the next few months until he turned eighteen would be my new favourite thing I'm sure.

"You're an old woman now, one foot in the grave" He answers back, he then spins me around so I faced him. I rolled my eyes at his comment. "Oh hush! Just as bad as Bella"

"Speaking of your sister, what's she doing for her birthday?" He asks.

"Surrounded by Cullens obviously" I say, rolling my eyes and huffing. Paul's expression darkened slightly. The afternoon carried on happily, we ate food and they all sung happy birthday to me. I grinned as Sam carried in a cake with candles. Once they finished singing I blew the candles out.

"That was so off-key it was almost painful, but it counts" Paul grins about the singing.

"I loved it" I say as I beam happily. "Best birthday ever, guys!" They guys, and Emily all smiled, obviously pleaded that I enjoyed myself. Sam spoke first, his deep voice filled with warmth.

"We're glad you enjoyed it, you deserve a great birthday"

"Definitely better than hanging out with that Cullen family all night" Jared laughed, I nodded, feeling a little sad that I wasn't spending my birthday with Bella.

"Yeah" I say with a small laugh. "Maybe next year there will be more wolves, and we can have a huge party!" I add, Sam was certain there would be more wolves soon. I'd started wondering if Jake would become one.

As the evening came we moved outside with a small fire, we roasted marshmallows. Paul stayed by my side, an arm wrapped around my shoulder. We had a brilliant evening, one of the best evenings of my life. It had me wondering if Bella was having a good night also, I hoped she was.

Once it was dark, dark outside Emily informed me the guest bedroom was all ready for me, though she did warm me, no funny business between Paul and me. Which wasn't a problem, because I wanted to wait to go all the way.

I yawned happily as I shut the bedroom door. Paul was already in the bed, looking comfy.

"I'll just get changed into my pyjamas, Mr I only wear my boxers to bed" I say playfully. Paul chuckles, his cheeky grin widening at my comment. He settles back on the bed, resting his arms behind his head.

"Hey, it's comfortable! But you go ahead and get into your PJs. I'll just lay here and admire you" He says with a smirk. I step into the bathroom and change into my shorts and tank top. When I walked back into the bedroom, I felt a little nervous, Paul and I had never shared a bed for the night before.

Paul's eyes widen as I walk back into the room, his gaze lingering on my now exposed skin. He patted the bed next to him, a playful yet affectionate smile on his face.

"C'mere, you"

I grin and crawl into the bed, snuggling close to his warm body. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest. He buries his face into my hair, breathing in my scent.

"Mmm, much better. Having you here in bed with me, it just feels right"

"It's really nice" I whisper, I lean away from him for a moment to switch off the lamp, leaving us in darkness with only the moonlight lighting the room.

"Yeah, it is. But you know what would make it even nicer, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice low and sultry. I had a feeling I could guess what he was about to say.

"Mmm what?" I hum, my ear was pressed against his chest, and one of my hands trailed patterns onto his bare chest.

"If you were wearing a lot less, and your body was pressed up against mine, feeling every inch of our skin pressed together"

"Behave" I warn. Paul chuckles softly, he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

"I'm trying, sweetheart. I really am. But do you know how sexy you look? It's hard for a wolf to behave when his girl looks so damn gorgeous"

"You need to be trained" I joke. Paul laughs, his hands move to my lower back, his fingers slowly moved under my tank top.

"Oh really? You think you can train me, huh? Good luck with that, sweets. I'm a pretty disobedient wolf" He replies in a playful tone.

"I've noticed" I say, a yawn happening mid sentence. Paul pulled me a little closer, shifting so I was almost on top of him.

"Looks like the beautiful birthday girl is getting sleepy. You had a long day, huh?"

"Yeah, super long day...a really good day though" I mumble. Paul moves his hand away from my back and into my hair, stroking my locks.

"Glad you had a good day, you deserve it, I promise to hold you all night. Sleep tight, birthday girl. Sweet dreams"

"Goodnight, my darling" I whisper half asleep, my body finally letting me fall deep into sleep.

Taglist:

@jaybbygrl, @strayteez3staner, @8crazy-freak8, @idontliketoread2137, @bonni-98

#fluff #twilight imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader

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imunemployedandidc · 1 month ago

Text

JEALOUSY

While coming across some new faces, Masacrik does not take it well.

Possessive Masacrik x his creation! Reader

Warnings: Victim blaming, other manipulation tactics, depiction of a toxic relationship with reader

I do not own any characters besides the reader. All other OCS have ownership to TAMAKUZ. Other information was found from the PsycoCuties Wiki.

My work is not suitable for everyone, if you don’t like it please, scroll.

Masacrik was spending his usual time working on his own gruesome experiments; uncontrolled yelling and laughter echoing through the hallway. He opens the door, peering down at you, a small smile on his face.

“Ushka, take this will you?” Despite the seeming question it was more of a demand. You grab the bag from him, it’s a bit more heavier than usual. Walking up the stairs, each step feeling like a small workout. You couldn’t help but remember how often he brags about how he made you so weak. The task feels as a reminder, at how you struggle at doing something so simple, so easy to the average person. It’s daunting how each step keeps you aware at how difficult it would be to live on your own. to be independent.

You make it to the final step, finally letting out a relieved breath, maybe a little too soon as you suddenly trip over your own foot. Yet you don’t make contact to the ground? You look up seeing a tall figure similar to Masacrik’s yet the youthful face and his bright turquoise hair stands out the most. The scene seems like it came straight out of a romantic book.

“Woah there! Didn’t know I would catch such a damsel in distress so early in the morning.”

Maybe he wasn’t the best at flirting, if that’s even what he was attempting to do. Though the long awkward silence was definitely humbling, even for you.

“thank.. you.” You stare up at him, finally realizing he’s been touching you for a little too long to comfort. You settle your feet down on the cold ground. He takes a look at you, his colorful eyes seeming dull. His demeanor dropping immediately letting an indifferent expression fall on his face.

“I see. You’re Masacrik’s sadistic abomination.”

Rude much.. though not that far off. He grasp your shoulder with one hand, giving it a little pat. He shoots up as if a light bulb appeared above his ahead.

“You must stick to his side often, yea? Ever been around the hospital? No? Let me take you.. and this bag.”

Despite the excessive amount of questions, they all seem rhetorical, this mysterious man giving you no time to answer. Even though Masacrik talks the same fast paced high energy way, it’s never directed towards you. He grabs the black trash bag from you, lifting it with ease.

“There ya’ go, let’s go visit some of the other nurses.. maybe I could even go see Клубничкa… strawberry.”

You really don’t think he’s talking to you near the end, but maybe that’s for the better.

He opens the door to a break out room, not that crowded, only a few doctors and nurses in similar outfits though some sticking out more than others. You first notice a girl, 5’3, pink hair and a cat hat similar to yours except her’s is white. A look of grimace on her face as you two enter, you want to say it was directed towards him but you couldn’t help but feel it was directed towards you as well.

“Oh my, Клубничка! I had no idea you’d be here, though now that you are I just have to tell you about my day.”

The light blue hair fellow drops his hand from your shoulder, finally giving you a chance to breathe. He walks over to who you’re assuming is ‘strawberry’, leaving you alone.

You look around the room, it’s tidy, neat; smelling of coffee and hospital alcohol. Another nurse comes to you. He introduces himself though you didn’t catch his name - it might be for the better if Masacrik ends up finding out you left and throws a fit, demanding you to tell him each person you even looked at.

“Hello there, I don’t believe we met. What’s your name?”

“[name].”

As you respond, it came out a bit more blunt than expected, hopefully you didn’t completely ruin the mood. He gives a laugh, a small bit of blush appearing on his face.

“That’s gorgeous.. You know I don’t see you much around here. Though I’m guessing you’re not a patient considering you came in here with Buttercup.”

You open your eyes a bit, giving a small nod. So that’s his name. You give an awkward smile.

“I’m.. supposed.. to be back by now.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow giving you a confused look.

“Back, where?”

And almost on cue, Masacrik slams open the door, his face and eyes widening as he lands on your figure. You lock eyes with his, except his are dull, psychotic, emotionless, deepening into your soul the longer he stares.

“Oh~ Masacrik!”

The terrifying silence breaks as the pink haired girl from earlier walks to him, almost having a little jump in her step. She wraps her arms around his chest, taking a deep breath. Giving a peck on his cheek, is that normal? Do friends usually do that to other friends? It must be considering how Masacrik brushes her off casually, walking to you in an almost cartoonish intimidating way. He grabs your wrist too tight for comfort. Bending down, he whispers in your ear. Wasting no time to try and threaten you.

“Ushka.. did I say it’s okay to talk to strangers?”

“No..” you reply.

“Did I say to leave without my permission”

“no..”

The emphasis at the end intimidating even more. Masacrik yanks your wrist a bit, pulling you closer.

“So then why did you leave Ushka? I gave you a command, a small job, anyone could do. And you decided to leave me and your small responsibility behind.”

You debate talking, does he really want an answer? Would the answer be justifying what you did and making it seem like an excuse or would it satisfy his curiosity enough for him to not punish you? Before you can respond, Buttercup, the tall more muscular one who put you in this situation to begin with steps forward. A glare of hate and jealousy on his face as he talks to Masacrik.

“Don’t take all the blame out on the pretty little thing. I just decided they should meet the rest of us.. considering they’re always with you. They get no time with other people, isn’t that right? Ushka.”

Buttercup turns to you at the end, putting a hand on your shoulder. Was he trying to get you in trouble!? Masacrik turns to you - biting his lip hard out of frustration, seemingly trying to hold back. He smacks away Buttercup’s hand, his aggressive force harder than he’s ever used on you.

“Don’t touch my things, ever again. And I won’t touch yours.”

Masacrik gives a side glance to Strawberry, for rest of the room to see. He yanks your wrist again, pulling you out the room, more like dragging, and slams the door behind him. He yanks you by your collar bringing you insanely close up to his face.

“Ushka. I didn’t feel I would have to clarify, that you belong to me. I made you, I keep you safe, without me you would be alone, worthless, a burden to others.”

He leans his forehead against yours, despite his manhandling, you can feel his hands shaking slightly. He takes a breath closing his eyes, almost seemingly like he’s inhaling your scent.

“Ushka darling, I know you it wasn’t your idea. You’d never leave me right? Never want to meet others who would find you annoying, a responsibility.”

You nod. Voluntarily or not, tears fall from your eyes. Why does he treat you so cruel, so rude. Even if you disobeyed his orders it wasn’t completely your fault.

“I’m sorry.”

Despite your feelings otherwise, your attempt at reconciliation must’ve worked considering his grip on your collars loosens as he softly lets you put your feet on the floor. He grasps your waist, pulling you against him.

“Oh Ushka I know you are. It’s not your fault, I will make sure to handle those vermins who believe they have any right to touch what I own.”

When you hear his words from the surface, they’re sweet, comforting.. though looking even a bit deeper they’re condescending, reminder of ownership, but you’ll choose to not think about it too much. Besides you got to meet new people, maybe people you’ll see in the future.

Though probably not any time soon.

#psychocuties #yandere #yandere x reader #psycocuties x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #toxic #tw: toxic relationship #manipulative #fypage #psycho cuties #dr masacrik #psychocuties masacrik #dr. masacrik #masacrik x reader #psychocutiesfic #fiction

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kookiestiddies · 7 months ago

Text

2 | two for two

series m.list

what's the worst that could happen at a party?

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, drinking, attempted humour

A/N: thank you so much for reading! updates will come...when they come ;-; if you are curious to know, I listened to this song while writing this fic. This really helped me figure out jk and oc's dynamic sort of. Also, i do not own these photos, I got them off of pinterest lol👍🏼happy reading this silly chapter weeee

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

The Jeon twins made for an odd pair.

While they lived up to their title in terms of mannerisms and speech patterns, physically, they were as different as can be.

If it weren’t for the inky patterns that lined their arms and possibly other parts of their body, their matching set of doe eyes, and the sudden dips in each cheek that always appeared after the sight of a familiar face or a well-told joke, you could never have guessed that they were once womb-mates.

While Chaeyoung thrived in bright shades of pink and white, Jungkook opted for the brooding presence of blacks and anything else no brighter than navy blues. Where she was all softness and curves, he was a sketch-up of hard lines. On the days when Chaeyoung wore butterfly clips in her hair that complimented her flowy dress and Mary Jane heels, Jungkook styled his mullet, wore more silver jewellery than you could count, and stalked about in black stompers.

Just a few months into your new company of friends, you were quick to learn that the whole lot of them were party animals, almost always on the lookout for nights of alcohol-induced shenanigans, and shameless whoring, twerking, strutting and queefing around as Jimin had so eloquently put, while you were decidedly not.

“You’ll come won’t you,” Chae asked you as she grasped your upper arm and looked at you with puppy eyes.

“I won’t,” you answered with a sickeningly sweet smile.

It was on a Friday afternoon when you had been in the middle of your solo biweekly revision session that Chae’s familiar cotton candy head had popped over the sea of silence that engulfed the library. Students glanced at her with annoyance as she noisily clacked her heels over the floor to where you were seated in a single booth towards the back corner. You were also quick to notice the quiet thud of a pair of stompers that followed her suit.

“Told you she wouldn’t be into it,” Jungkook said dismissively with a blank expression and lazily leaned against the side of your booth. “Oh c’mon, you can’t abandon me like this!” Chae whined and tightened her grip on your arm. It was starting to hurt honestly.

The girl sitting in the booth across from you sent an angry “Shh!” in your trio’s direction.

You lowered your head in embarrassment and gestured to the twins to quiet down. “Babe, what do you mean, abandon you? I love you and everything and I truly appreciate our friendship and all, but we really haven’t known each other long enough for this to be that deep,” you said with a look on your face that said you were joking. Jungkook snorted loudly at that.

Another “SHH!” landed on you again. Bitch.

“Y/n! I can’t handle another night of taking care of Jimin and Nayeon’s horny asses. Do you have any idea what the bullshit those idiots put me through?!” Chae cried. Her grip on your arm tightened even more.

Jesus fuck, does she work out?!?

“C’mon Chae, I told you she wouldn’t be into it. You said you’d prove me wrong. You didn’t. You owe me ice cream now. Let’s go,” Jungkook said monotonously and stood up as you hopelessly pried Chae’s hands away from your arm.

“Chae, please let go, you’re killing me here,” you whisper-scream, admittedly scared of the chick in front of you.

Luckily, the shrill ringtone of Chae’s phone suddenly cuts through the air and leads her a short way away from your booth to answer the call, gorilla grip talons and all. Both Jungkook and you noticed the irritated look on the girl across and shared an awkward-embarrassed look with each other.

“What? Did you guys bet on me going to the party or something?” you redirected, looking between the twins. He shrugged. “Am I only worth some ice cream?” you joked mindlessly.

“If you must know, it’s really cheap, grocery store ice cream…” Jungkook said quietly, but not quiet enough to escape your earshot as you massaged your arm (which will probably bruise tomorrow).

Asshole.

“Oh? Is that so? Everyone knows that cheap, grocery store ice cream tastes miles better though, compared to whatever premium coco-mocha-pumpkin-spiced-latte-ariana-grande ice cream I’m sure the likes of you enjoy,” you banter.

At this, he stares at you, glides his eyes up and down your figure, and smirks.

“I mean… I didn’t even say that that’s my taste.”

“What is your taste then?”

“Cheap, grocery store ice cream,” he says with a shy smile.

Is he flirting with you?

Jesus christ, that was a weird exchange, why in the world would your heart be thumping over that? (Because it was.)

Yes, the textbook incident did leave you upset with him for a long while. But your parents taught you that bygones should be bygones.

After all, he did get down on his knees for you.

The memory of Jungkook crouching before you haunted you for an embarrassingly long time after, especially given that all your friends witnessed it and never failed to tease the two of you about it, except for Taehyung who still curses the heavens to this day for punishing him with boring TA sessions on that day when he could have been there in person to see it.

You had claimed to have forgiven him then and there itself, not because you actually meant it, because it would take much more than that to get over how trashy Jungkook’s 50 dollars had made you feel, but just to get over the attention he was bringing to the two of you in the crowded cafeteria.

No, Jungkook getting down on his knees wasn’t enough. But you didn’t have to say that for him to know, because he saw right through you.

After two weeks of being forced to hang out thanks to your shared friend group and an infinite amount of awkwardly skirting around each other, Jungkook one day approached you alone in the library lugging a bag in his hand. When you looked up at him, he shifted his eyes away to the muddy textbook that lay open on the table and cleared his throat.

“Here,” he’d said and thrust the bag that weighed a tonne towards you. You wordlessly took it and gave him a curious look. In that moment, he’d reminded you of a child in kindergarten being forced to apologise to the classmate he’s made fun of, looking sheepish and awkward.

In the bag were brand new textbooks. Hardcovers at that. Sitting on top of them was a large pack of your favourite corn chips that you always had on you to munch on. You were surprised to say the least. Not only did you not expect him to be thoughtful enough to replace your textbooks, but you didn’t pin him to be observant enough to know your favourite snack.

“Sorry again…about your books,” he mumbled out while rubbing the back of his neck. You were quiet for a moment, Jungkook’s actions once again leaving you too stunned to speak.

“Apology accepted,” you quietly replied. And with that, the textbook incident was a chapter closed.

Ever since then, Jungkook and you had to find your footing around each other in your friend group, now on more amicable terms. For Jungkook, it meant getting comfortable around you, which you learnt meant that he would find ways to tease you and somehow always managed to find a way to get under your skin and rattle you. For you, it meant constantly getting annoyed at him and letting him know of that.

It was deeply unsettling how he constantly one-upped you with his comments. You figured you’d rather not engage with him at all in any way or form.

You let out a huff at him and say, “Whatever. This is a really dumb conversation. Hope you enjoy your ice cream, whichever one it is that you end up getting,” before turning back to your work so that he can’t see your cheeks that were beginning to feel hot.

Jungkook was still looking at you, with what you suspected was hesitance.

You look back and raise a questioning brow at him.

Just as he opens his mouth, Chae saunters back over and unknowingly interrupts him. “Hobi’s here,” she announces while looking around the library. All the focus you had on Jungkook is abandoned immediately as you whip your head around to look for the sight of a familiar sunny grin.

It doesn’t take long for you to find it as its owner walks over to your group with a bickering Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Taehyung’s hands are flailing everywhere and he’s bouncing around with Jimin looking at him in ridicule while trying to get him to calm down.

“What are these idiots fighting about now,” Chae mutters under her breath.

“They're not just friends, okay? They’re soulmates. Hollywood soulmates. There’s a difference," you hear Taehyung say passionately as the trio came within earshot, making Jimin burst out a screech while Hoseok chuckled. You sneak a glance at the girl across and you’re pretty sure you catch her shaking in anger or something. "Soulmates? Come on. They’ve known each other since, what, middle school? That’s just a lifelong bromance," Jimin retorts.

“Hey guys,” Hoseok threw at the twins and you. You were the only one who bothered to reply with one yourself. Chae was too invested in Taehyung and Jimin’s conversation to respond while Jungkook seemed to be in a mood all of a sudden, his eyes fixated on the way Hoseok walked over and leaned against the table facing you.

“What are they arguing about?” you ask Hoseok. Before he could answer, Jimin voices it out himself exasperatedly.

"A bromance doesn’t survive Oscars, Batman vs. Bourne debates, and that time Ben got way too into Dunkin’ coffee. That’s a bond,"

“But what does that have to do with why JLo and he aren’t good together???”

“It has to do with everything!”

“EXCUSE ME, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE EITHER KEEP IT DOWN OR LEAVE THE LIBRARY?!” the girl from earlier finally explodes at your seemingly ever-growing gathering.

“Jesus fuck, yes, yes! We’re leaving,” you bellow out, annoyed and terrified, and start packing up your things.

“We’re leaving?” Chae asks, finally tuning in back to you.

“We are?” Taehyung asks.

“But we just got here,” Jimin adds pitifully.

It’s your turn to be exasperated as you say “Shut up, please, all of you. We’re getting out of here and going somewhere less quiet so that we don’t seem too much like animals.” You finish packing up and head towards the exit, throwing a measly ‘sorry’ to the girl ahead of you without waiting for a response. The rest of the group moves over similarly like a school of fish.

While Jimin and Taehyung carry on their argument, this time with Jungkook joining in (his contribution being the Dunkin’ lore), Hoseok catches up to you and Chae.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna change your mind about coming to the party?” Chae tries again.

Hoseok cuts in before you could answer, “What, you mean the one happening tomorrow night?” She nods in confirmation. “She doesn’t want to go but I want her to,” Chae whines.

“This is gonna hurt Chae, but frankly speaking, I don’t care what you want,” you say curtly, making her huff and setting Hoseok off with laughter.

“Shut the fuck up, that wasn’t even that funny!” Chae whines at Hoseok. “No, but it’s what your entitled ass deserves,” he throws at her, causing her to fume.

“Who are you calling entitled?!? Jungkook, did you hear what they’re saying about me?” she screeches at her brother. Said brother turns to her and says, “I did and I agree, you are entitled and I also don’t care about what you want.” Now the whole group is laughing along.

“That’s it, I’m calling Nayeon, you know… a real friend,” Chae huffs and gets distracted by her phone. Hoseok takes this as an opportunity to lean over and put his arm around you.

“I know we’re joking and all, but I’d really like it if you’d change your mind about the party,” he says softly.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really my thing, ya’know? Besides, I have Mr Byrnes class to study for. He keeps talking about a test that isn’t even in the study plan and it’s making me paranoid that he’s going to surprise us with a pop quiz one of these days,” you ramble as he listens attentively.

“C’mon, it’s just one night. Just have some fun. And I promise that I’ll watch out for you, okay? Make sure things don’t get out of hand or let anyone force you to do anything crazy,” he says.

“What do you say?” he asks, eyes hopeful and smiling as wide and bright as ever.

Of course, you said yes.

How could you refuse when he had asked so nicely?

So here you were, walking up to a large house set in the corner of an upper-class residential area that had college students pouring in and out of every entrance possible with Chae, Nayeon and Jimin. You honestly had no idea whose house this was, or who even organised this party. An act of stupidity on your part you realised, because now you had no choice but to lean on your friends for safety.

Oh well, Hoseok did promise to watch out for you, you thought as you secretly smiled to yourself.

Not secretive enough it seems as Chae tells you, “With that look on your face, I hope you’re actually excited to go to this party for the sake of having fun.”

You reply with a simple “Sure,” as your group turns into the neat little pathway leading up to the front door.

“Whether Y/n’s excited or not, I sure as hell am. God, I can’t wait to get fucked up tonight. It’s been too long,” Nayeon chirps next to you, much to Chae's chagrin.

“I’m begging you two,” Chase addresses both Nayeon and Jimin as she says, “don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning. I’m sick of babysitting you two,” with a scoff. The perpetrators merely giggle at her as they spread out separately into the dancing crowd in the living room-turned-dancefloor.

“C’mon, let’s go out to the backyard. It’s way too early to be partying this hard,” Chase says and leads you by your hand.

As soon as you step foot out of the house, you’re relieved to be able to breathe without the entailing smell of sweat and alcohol in the air. Towards the corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with red solo cups at hand are Jungkook and Taehyung talking with two other guys you don’t recognise.

They’re both tall and attractive, you’re quick to notice. While one is more built all-around, the other has wide shoulders leading to a tapered waist.

“Hey guys!” Chase chirps at them. “Meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Namjoon and this is Jin,” she gestures to the built one and the one with wide shoulders in order. You greet them pleasantly before stepping aside to stand next to Taehyung while Chae rants to them about Nayeon and Jimin.

Suddenly, you feel a poke of a finger in your side. “Y/n….you’re at a college party without a drink. Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyung chastises you as he leans over. You can already smell the faint lingering of alcohol on his breath. “Sorry, I’m just really not looking to get shitfaced tonight,” you weakly say.

“Shut up, one drink never hurt anyone!” he retorts with a laugh. “I’ll be right back,” he says and before you could refuse, he’s already headed towards the kitchen indoors, presumably to get you a drink.

In his absence, you notice Jungkook quietly nursing his own drink next to you. You shift your attention away from him and start looking around the backyard.

Your eyes are searching, here, there and everywhere looking for a specific face. Where’s Hoseok? You want to text him, asking him if he’s here already, but you’ve never really texted him before. Would it be too obvious if you were to start now? In your train of overthinking, you fail to notice that the boy next to you has shifted to face you. He’s studying you, your actions, but you fail to notice.

“Missing your loverboy?” the voice from next to you breaks you out of your reverie.

You look at Jungkook and dumbly say, “Huh?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, and you curse the heavens for making him as handsome as he looks when he does so. “I asked if you’re looking for Hoseok hyung,” he says.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, figured as much,” he shrugs. At this, you raise a curious brow at him.

“Uhm, duh, you look like you lost your puppy or something. Huhu, where’s my boyfie, huhu,” he mimics you in a high-pitched voice.

You look at him in disgust before saying, “Ugh, I have never and will never use the word boyfie.” It’s a weak attempt at a comeback, you already know. “Aha, but you don’t deny that you’re looking for Hoseok hyung!” he says with a grin.

You let out a scoff at that and say, “Okay, so what? What’s it to do with you? Ever heard of minding your own business?” Your tone is harsh, but you couldn’t help the shy smile that crawled on your face.

He looks like he has more to say, probably to tease you, but is cut off by Taehyung crying out “Children! Children! Please settle down, the party’s only just started. I can’t handle y'all bickering so soon.” You roll your eyes at Jungkook and turn away from him, making you miss out on the boyish grin he sends your way before he turns away himself to tune into Chae’s conversation with Namjoon and Jin.

Taehyung waltzes up to you and flourishes a red solo cup to you with a proud look on his face. “Ta-da! A drink for Her Highness,” he dramatically says with an even more dramatic bow.

You giggle as you accept the drink. “Thank you, good sir,” you play along. Taehyung lets out a pleasant sigh and leans forward against the railing. His sudden silence hints to you that he might have something on his mind.

You don’t bother asking yet though, comfortable with the lack of conversation between you, and instead listening to Namjoon and Jin telling Chae about their disastrous search for a roommate. Jungkook isn’t in sight anymore so you assume he’s gone back into the house.

“You guys don’t understand the number of crazy people we’ve met so far. We interviewed this one kid, a comp-sci student, who asked if we’d be okay if he were to use our storage room to keep all his blow-up “life-sized sleep dolls”. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?” Namjoon says exasperatedly. Jin shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I don’t think any of us here want to know what that means,” making the whole group laugh.

“Maybe you guys should consider having him around. I want to start a wager that he has a doll of Danny Devito,” you giggle. Jin nearly chokes on his drink at that.

Namjoon is thoroughly entertained and says “You’re right! And when Christmas rolls around, we won’t have to get a damn Christmas tree. We can just spice up Danny.”

“A Danny Devito Christmas Tree?” Chae asks with a grin.

“A Danny DeviTree.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jin says.

You all nod our heads in a silly agreement.

“TO DANNY DEVITREE!” we cheer together and take large gulps of our drinks.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to find a different place to live? Somewhere closer to campus right?” Chae asks you with a nudge of her elbow.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” you reply. You turn to Namjoon and Jin to explain “The place I’m at now is too far away from campus, so I’m thinking about moving somewhere closer so that I don’t have to stress too much about the distance before leaving for classes.”

“Well hey, our place is less than a block from campus. If you’re interested, we can talk another day,” Jin says excitedly. “But the DeviTree arrangement will have to wait, it seems,” Namjoon adds with a grin. Your eyes widen with excitement and you agree to meet another day to discuss it.

While you’re busy exchanging numbers with Namjoon, Chae suddenly notices Taehyung’s silence and asks him “What’s got you thinking so deeply? Looking so serious doesn’t suit you” she says poking her tongue out teasingly at him.

This brings Taehyung to stand straight and point at your chest area. “It’s weird you know,” he says.

Your tit?

“My tit?” you ask aloud.

“Huh?” he asks back and realises what he’s pointing at. “What the - no! You idiot, not your tit. Your tit is fine. I meant you in general.”

You and the others can’t control your giggles as you prod him even more, “What’s so weird about me?”

“It’s weird how you can’t seem to get along with Jungkook. He’s literally the nicest out of all of us. And you’re nice too.”

This catches you off guard as the laughter suddenly lulls down.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s always getting on my nerves on purpose. He’s such an idiot,” you say along with a quick apology towards Chae. She smiles strangely at you while Namjoon and Jin watch the conversation play out in silence.

“See that’s the thing, he’s never trying to get on your nerves on purpose. You just seem to always get annoyed by him all on your own,” Taehyung refutes.

“He’s right. Not to sound like I’m trying to stand up for my brother too much, but it is weird how much you can’t stand him. He doesn’t hate you the way you hate him,” Chae says the last part with a strange tone in her voice. “But it’s like you don’t even want to give him a chance to be closer with you.”

You suddenly feel cornered by the duo. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’re just wired into different frequencies or something. Somehow, everything he does annoys me so much. God help me if I knew why,” you try to brush it off and take a large gulp of your drink.

Are you getting a bit tipsy right now? Probably. Eh, whatever - you think as you chug the rest of the drink.

Of course in your heart, you feel struck by the accusation. Is it true? Have you been too harsh with Jungkook?

This time, you knew Chae and Taehyung weren’t referring to the textbook incident. Nope, they were talking about your overall behaviour after that. You were always harsh and short-tempered around him, sometimes, oftentimes even, mean.

You were never usually mean, so much so that you could recognise when you were being so, especially with Jungkook. But could you blame yourself? He was practically asking for it.

“Maybe, it’s because you like-like him,” Taehyung says, making you choke on your drink.

Namjoon and Jin are chuckling into their cups when he says that while he stands there calmly with Chae waiting for you to finish your coughing fit.

“What the FUCK! Like-like him??” you let out an emotionless laugh and say “what are we, five? Like-like him, pfft! As if.”

You’re desperate for this conversation to end now.

“Why? It’s not that ridiculous. It would be kind of nice if my baby brother and my best friend were to date,” Chae says with a smile and a shrug. “Besides, you know what they say - there’s a thin line between love and hate…”

Sometimes, the differences between the Jeon twins shone starkly like day and night. Jungkook who loved to spend his evenings cruising around town on his motorcycle; Chae who turned down getting her own car that their parents wanted to give her because of how traumatised she was from her experience at driver’s ed (nothing serious, it was just bad vibes with an instructor who fell asleep in the passenger seat while she was behind the wheel). Jungkook who always had a glint in his eye, craving for an adrenaline filled adventure like rock climbing or hiking. More extreme, skydiving and cliff jumping during summer breaks. And Chae, who enjoyed completely and entirely, simple hangouts with friends at a cafe or a club, and especially at home.

As different as they were, the Jeon twins were as inseparable as former womb mates ever could be.

Like that one time Chae and you had a sleepover at their place for a Barbie animated movie marathon before your group was set to go watch the new Barbie live-action movie in cinemas. Even though he had all the means to simply lock himself up in his room to save himself from the cheesy squeals and giggles he was promised to hear from the two of you for the rest of the night, Jungkook not only joined you two for the whole run, enthusiastically reacting along to the characters and funny lines, he even went out of the way to make the three of you hot cocoa drinks with marshmallows and volunteered to go out and buy more snacks once they had run out.

A memory that still makes you chuckle is how the entire group showed up to the movie dressed in theme to the nines (Jimin and Taehyung as the Diamond Castle dogs of course). And yes, Jungkook too. While Chae unsurprisingly dressed up as Bibble, Jungkook retired his punk jewellery to dress up as Aidan from The Magic of Pegasus.

Chae was none the wiser, fiercely caring for her brother. The memory of Jungkook and Taehyung once getting locked in a frat party closet once and noone being able to find them bcs their phones were with Nayeon, and the party was too loud to hear them shouting to be let out. Chae was worried sick around the 5 hour mark, contemplating calling the police and ranting and generally being out of sorts. Thank god Jimin needed to throw up and rushed to the nearest closet and forced it open. The gratification on the boys’ face at being freed didn’t last long before Jimin got puke all over them.

Nonetheless, Chae was utterly relieved to see her brother alive and well, rushing to hug him regardless of the gunk covering his shirt.

For as darling as you found Chae and as insufferable as you found Jungkook, you sure did hang out with the two a lot; the most out of everyone in the group. It didn’t go unnoticed how he was a whopping 5 '8 and was incredibly self-sufficient, perfectly able to say no to his sister's invitations if he wanted to.

The thing was, Chae brought him along everywhere, and he followed along anyway.

These are a few of the memories that you’ve collected since getting to know Chae, and by default Jungkook too. The Jeon twins truly made for an odd pair, but they were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly.

You’re reflecting on these memories in your tipsy haze as you’re almost touched for a moment that Chae just called you her best friend, given that you’ve only known each other for a little over half a year now.

Almost.

“Hah! No offence Chae, but there is no way I could ever like, or love, your brother.”

Of course, the universe is not on your side today (has it ever been?), because it’s at that exact moment that the man you’d been on the lookout for the whole night strides onto the patio towards you little group.

“Oh shit, Y/n loves Jungkook? Then, I’m out of here,” Hoseok says with a teasing lilt in his voice and the insinuation of what he says makes your hearts beat faster.

“NO! I said I don’t like him. Or love him. C’mon Hoseok, I want to dance. It’s getting stale out here,” you say as you giggle and drag him by his hand into the house through the swarm of bodies.

You’re well able to notice your friends’ teasing comments following you into the house, but not the pair of doe eyes that were fixated on you from the inner entrance to the porch area as you pass them.

Currently, you were bouncing along with Hoseok in the room full of bodies, barely able to decipher anything other than the music booming through the space. Oh, and his hands are on your hips.

Fuck, you think to yourself. That boy has got you wrapped around his pretty little finger, literally, and he doesn’t even know it.

Or maybe he does? You don’t know. You don’t know anything right now. You’re so out of it.

The full weight of the drink Taehyung had given earlier had finally hit you 20 minutes ago, and ever since then, you’ve been daringly thrusting your hips and grinding against Hoseok in tune to the beat of the songs playing. You’re not sure if he’s drunk himself since you didn’t see him ingest anything since you met up with him on the porch, but the way he’s grinding back onto you, gripping your hips possessively and whispering sweet nothings into your ear suggest that he might be.

“Y/n…” he breathes out. “You look so cute tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted to. I thought about it, but didn’t say it.”

You let out a giggle and say “That’s okay. Thanks. You look really good tonight too.”

A minute passes of you two continuing to dance when he suddenly stops and motions you to do the same. “Can I- Can I ask you something?” he starts. The suddenness of his actions sobers you a little and you merely nod at him. “What is it?”

He seems hesitant to continue and it looks like it’s really eating him up. “What is it? You can ask me anything,” you encourage him.

“Okay, uhm, well, is there- fuck, okay,” he says before clearing his throat and looking at you pointedly.

“Is there anything going on between you and Jungkook?” he asks.

“What the hell, no!” you’re quick to refute.

His eyes widened at your response. “No? Are you sure? Are you 100% positive on that?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle at that.

This is so ridiculous.

“No, Hoseok, there’s nothing going on between me and that brat Jeon Jungkook. Okay? The others were just joking around. There’s nothing happening between us. Is that what you wanted to know?”

He visibly brightens up and says “Well yeah, because I wanted to know if what I’m about to do next would land me a punch on the face or not,” with a laugh. He comes closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist with a grin forming on his face.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your breath getting shallower. Your heart is pounding so fast you hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

And when he leans down and brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, you’re unable to think of anything else anymore. Fuck Jungkook. Fuck everything.

All you think about is him.

Hoseok.

He’s such a great kisser, lips so soft and careful yet bold. While your tongues are having a passionate battle for dominance, with you losing quickly, he brings his arms to wrap tightly around your body. “Y/n…” he moans in between and you swear you’ve never heard a sound more sweeter. You’re moaning too as you bring your hands up to run through his hair and down the back of his neck.

The pair of you part after what feels like both forever and finite. “Fuck, you’re something else,” he says breathlessly. You chuckle at that, out of breath yourself.

You take a moment to just stare at his face and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. He’s taking the time to look back at you too. You see his eyes dart around your face - to your eyes, nose, hair tucked behind your ear, your lips.

His face is lit up by the glare of the colourful lights decorating the ceiling and something else that is purely him.

Hoseok.

Sober-you would never find the balls to admit your feelings to him, but drunk-you could.

“Hoseok…”

“Yes?”

“I-I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How could I not?” he says with a chuckle before he closes the gaps between your lips again.

Just as you think you’re about to write a blurb on the bliss of Hoseok’s soft lips, a voice clears causing the two of you to break away. Jungkook appears by your side with a furrow on his face looking as uncomfortable as ever.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you ask, flustered and unable to mask your disappointment over his interruption. He isn’t quick to reply, opting to glance at the close proximity between Hoseok and you first. “I need you to come with me,” he replies gruffly. When you don’t move an inch he adds, “Now,”.

“Uhm, well, I’m kinda occupied at the moment so unless it’s important - HEY!” you exclaim as he grabs ahold of your hand and tries to drag you away from Hoseok. Hoseok steps in and tries to reason with Jungkook. “Hey man, you heard her, she can’t go and it’s not cool of you to drag her”

“It IS important!” Jungkook says. He’s got a strong grip on you, and even though you’re not afraid of him at that moment, for you know he’s gentler than he seems, you are annoyed by him.

You smack on his hand that’s encasing your arm and start yelling “Jungkook, you big OAF, I’m not going anywhere with YOU!” He ignores you and continues dragging you away from Hoseok. “You’re not even telling me what’s so goddamned IMPORTANT!”

There truly are consequences to chugging down a drink that Taehyung, of all people made for you.

You are drunk. And what is it that drunk people infamously do? Stupid things.

You are drunk and irrational and Jungkook is still dragging you away. You do the only thing that your brain can comprehend doing in that moment.

You bring your stiletto boots covered leg up and bring it down hard on Jungkook’s heavy black stompers. You know, the ones that he stood in-line for 3 hours to buy on its release day that cost a whopping $800. The ones that he carefully polishes every week so that they look shiny and new always.

Well, from where you’re standing - yep, standing, not walking..because Jungkook has stopped walking - his shoes do look as good as new.

Except for the ugly 3 inch scratch that runs down the side of the right one where your stiletto just met it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’ve gone too far.

Is it possible to hear complete and utter silence in a room full of sweaty and drunk college kids with Gasolina blaring in the background? Because you’re experiencing it right this moment. Oh no wait, it just changed to You Broke Me First by Tate McCrae. Nice. In any other given scenario, you’d laugh at the irony of it.

But you’re not laughing now. Neither is Jungkook. You’re holding your breath and Jungkook's wide set shoulders slowly turn around to look at you.

He peers down at his now ruined shoe before slowly dragging his eyes over your figure and meeting your eyes. His mouth, usually positioned as a lopsided grin, was now set straight and silent, his eyes hard with an illegible emotion.

It takes a couple of moments for you to snap back to your senses and you’re about to open your mouth to throw out apologies, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Chae’s sick in the toilet. Go check up on her and let her know I’m waiting for her outside,” he says lowly and releases his grip on your hand.

You’re wide-eyed as you open your mouth to respond, “Jungkook, I’m so-”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it so difficult for you to think about other people?” He cuts you off loudly. You’re rendered speechless, his words striking you unexpectedly. In all your encounters of Jungkook irritating you, leaving you to retort harshly, never once has he raised his voice or gotten angry with you. But now he was.

Totally and utterly angry.

You see it in the way he’s actively trying, but failing, to control his tone and breathing, and the step that he takes away from you. This is new ground for your dynamic, you have no idea what to say to him other than to apologise.

“You parade around feeling so entitled about everything, why don’t you make yourself useful for once and go help Chae?

“But Jungko-”

“Save it. We’ll call it even for your textbooks. Can you just go now?”

“Wait please, I’m sor-”

“JUST GO!”

He doesn’t wait for your next response and turns to head out the door, roughly pushing off the drunk and sweaty crowd that got in his way. All that’s left is for you to stare at his retreating back as you stomach the dread rising in you.

Congratulations, Miss Kim Y/n! You have officially pissed Jeon Jungkook off!

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

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