#i feel crazy i should just make ocs at this point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 7 months

Text

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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canthelpit0 · 4 months

Text

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

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sentientcave · 5 months

Text

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #Price please keep your dogs on leashes they are terrorizing women #The boys missed the real retirement party because they got emergency deployed and they've been trying to reschedule all year long #Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it #The homies in discord agree: These guys are unsettling

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tastesousweet · 2 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (xi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : a birthday, a bracelet, and brash decisions

warnings : angst(ish), fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : if you need a refresher on this series here's a little recap here; otherwise i hope you all enjoyyyyy!!!!

THIS IS PART ELEVEN, U SHOULD KNOW TO READ THE OTHERS FIRST BY NOW...

your rekindling with matt has become far from friendly very quickly.

after your fruitful trip to santa monica you were quickly back to regularly texting (and eventually touching) each other.

it's hard to forget the sight of matt, hair tussled after removing his hood and eyes distracted by your appeal as he breathlessly asked you to kiss him only a few weeks ago in the dark movie theater.

your eyes widened as you turned to face him and smirk through your mouthful of popcorn slowly, "what?" you whispered.

"want you to kiss me. please." his body language was so obviously frustrated by the distance that damn arm rest had put between you two. and frustrated by his crave for your taste ever since the pier.

your tongue began to poke into the back of your mouth to fight a kernel out of your hard molars, "matt- there's like people everywhere..." you'd lift yourself forward to glance around at the many heads facing the screen in front of you.

matt reached for your hand, bringing you back to him, "hey," he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "they won't mind... s'not like i'm gonna start moanin' and shit."

your smile grew and before you sunk any deeper into the seat you were reaching to meet his lips for a swift chaste kiss. just as you pulled away matt was quick to take hold of your neck and whisper "the fuck was that? give me a proper kiss, c'mon sunny" against your pursed lips.

and you did; you kissed him hard because you too had been holding back a yearn for this ever since the pier. you kissed him to tell him everything he'd been making you feel. with these flirty ass friendship dates he'd been taking you on- only he'd still be quick to defend them as nothing serious or more than friends.

but how could he when he's the one interrupting your friendship time for a kiss with chemistry that could never be twisted into some platonic bullshit?

it seems you're a full, hot air balloon and he's just far too scared of the heights you'll take him. unsure of giving up his own control for the rewarding views you'd share with him.

your heads bobbed as your faces moved as one. your eyes remained pinched shut when he finally backed away and wiped the corner of your full lips softly. "mmm, thanks," he'd breathe and peek his tongue out over his lips.

"thanks," you'd mock and giggle as you push his face away from you, taking a sip of your cherry red slushy to coat his addictive taste with a sugary sweetness on your tongue.

since that moment shared in the dark, there were plenty of secret kisses and heated fuckings whenever you'd both get the time alone. there was no trivial conversation to establish what exactly you both would be reengaging as; no points made about exclusivity, no confession of adoration, no signs of steadiness.

but you think matt makes up for this with the way he's been treating you. his shell gone a little soft and his demeanor all the more trusting.

you both avoid the erin thing. except for when you innocently sneak her name into your conversations just to see how his face may change or his lips may twitch, hiding a small smirk- but your intentions are never questioned by matt. and you can't tell if that's his way of communicating that erin is no longer on his radar or him allowing you settle in your ignorance. both options would drive you crazy if you're honest.

it took some self reflecting and ranting voice memos recorded alone in your car for you to forgive erin- you knew she did nothing truly unforgivable to you, but her comment calling you a bitch was the perfect catalyst for your resentment.

you wanted to use something as petty as that to cut her off- knowing you and matt were on speaking terms again and if you'd gotten with him officially, in some convoluted and fucked up way, you would escape any violation of a girl-code principle.

except you both are too good of friends to fall out due to something so silly (and you were completely delusional to think you could handle the thought of someone being mad at you that intensely). erin had texted you almost a week after the exchange, claiming to have missed you and wanting to meet for lunch.

luckily she didn't bring matt up, you'd probably spill your water all over your shirt and blow your cover completely. instead you both apologized and held a long conversation of catch up, interrupted by bites of tacos and scoops of salsa.

౨ৎ

you should have known andrea was dead serious when she’d told you that she’d make you a frozen strawberry margarita (her at-home specialty) as soon as the clock struck twelve on your birthday.

you both had a ball, drinking two margaritas in the span of an hour and dancing together in the kitchen while “in da club” by 50 cent plays repeatedly.

and you’d never have expected to be interrupted with a text from matt that you read while slurping the last of your drink:

MATT - 1:37 AM

Hey come downstairs rq I’m at ur place

Y/N - 1:37 AM

mmkay…….

“drea ill be right back… left something in my car,” your voice is distracted and your eyes are still on your phone as you drift towards your front door and slide into the closest pair of sandals lying by.

“okay? do you want me to come too?! it’s dark out.” she furrows her eyebrows and speaks through chews of strawberry.

MATT - 1:38 AM

So many dots ……. lol

MATT - 1:38 AM

Can you come here quicker 😘

a smile grows when the texts form on your screen, “um no i’ll be fine, it’ll be quick.” you open the door without further conversation, rushing down the first few flights of stairs before walking slowly down the final flight to catch your breath (not wanting matt to think you were in too much of a rush to see him).

your eyes find his figure quickly with the soft warm street lighting hitting him as he perches against the wall of your complex. when he sees you his face exposes a toothy grin as he tucks his phone away.

the closer you get the more giddy you feel. “hi matt,” you greet reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, connecting your bodies in a gentle hug. matt’s arms hold your waist and he breathes in your hair’s smell of sweet vanilla.

“mmm, hi sunny,” he pulls away first to cradle your face in his left palm, kissing your cheek then your lips. you move a hand to hold his wrist, smiling into the kiss and allowing matt to have a proper taste of the sugary margarita you were just sipping on.

you both pull away when the kiss gets too intense, matt breathes heavily as you wipe your mouth and smile up at him. “why’re you here?”

“well it’s your birthday… wanted to stop by and say hi and shit,” he licks over his teeth before returning a smile to you, he still keeps a hand on your waist running his fingers over your skin.

and his response makes your head spin. because, yes, of course matthew would think something like driving all the way to your house in the middle of the night just to “say hi” on your birthday is casual and would not fuck with a girl’s head. only he could so confidently trick himself (and you) into thinking like that.

he shrugs, looking at your mouth as he moves his thumb over your bottom lip for a second, “and i was already out, you know, your place was on my way home anyway.” there’s the cover up you were searching for. something, anything that he can pull out of his ass to remind you this is nothing romantic in the slightest.

you nod slightly as you adjust the small chain around his neck, his eyes still on you, “what were you possibly out doing this late?” you glance your eyes up to him then back to the necklace, “fucking around with whatever girl put you on to that little kissy-face emoji?”

matt laughs at your accusation, “damn, i’m a slut for using emojis now?!”

“you were a slut before the emojis,” you joke, “matt you’ve never used an emoji when texting me ever and it’s hard to believe you did that without some girl telling you it’s cute.”

matt reaches up to squish your cheeks together and gain your eye contact again, “hey you fuckin’ sunbum, you told me to start using emojis more. remember that? ‘cause they make everything funnier’” he uses air quotes when saying your words back to you.

he laughs when he sees the realization dawn on you, you push his hands away from your face. “okay, yeah that was me… and i stand by that!” you push him away to avoid laughing with him, “well, i guess i'll go back in my house now.” you dramatically sigh and back away.

“oh so you want me to give you your gift tomorrow?”

“gift? oh matt how you spoil me,” you gawk, adding a posh accent along the way.

“mhm, c’mere it’s in my car,” he begins to walk away and you follow. you lean against the car as he opens his door and looks for the present.

eventually matt’s head peeks out, “might be better if you just come in here too.”

“is your gift sex? we both know that’s all that would come from me getting in that car matt…”

matt's eyes get wide at your suggestion and he chuckles a bit as he shuts the door. he then moves to enclose you against his car and kiss you, giving you an out of breath confession throughout: “i like when you’re” kiss, “tipsy and just say” kiss, “like, the most direct shit.” kiss.

“i like it when you come to my house in the middle of the night just to kiss me.”

“mm yeah, i like it when we’re alone and you start talkin’ to me about the most random shit just because,” matt feels so comfortable with you at times like this. when it feels like you two are in your own bubble that cannot be popped.

“i bet you do,” you smile, enjoying his ability to make you giddy. “did you get your hair cut?” you draw your hands through his hair softly.

matt scrunched his face the slightest bit, “like, the tiniest trim. that’s crazy you noticed though.”

“it looks nice.”

“thank you.”

“can i have my gift now?”

matt’s immediately scrambling to grab the gift from his pocket. he presents it to you, placing the small box in your hand.

“oh god, what the fuck did you get me?” you pull the top off and see a bracelet lying on top of a layer of black foam.

“it’s an italian charm bracelet,” he watches you glance and feel over the silver bracelet, “fuckin’ sick, huh?”

“thank you,” you turn it over and your stomach falls sick at the sight of a frank ocean lyric engraved into the metal: i been thinking bout you.

matt continues to talk as you process, “yeah, and we can try to find more charms for some of the empty slots.”

you nod and ask him to put it on you. once it clasps he looks to you, “do you like it?”

“yeah, of course i do. thank you so much matt,” you try not to get emotional about it, instead distracting the both of you with a kiss that lasts for far too long matt pulls back with your hands still holding his face not too far from your own. “hi," you prompt him to say something rather than just look into your eyes.

he smiles, "hi. i gotta get home soon. it’s past my bed time and you know i live with two patrol dogs- probably barking in my phone right now.”

you laugh softly, “yeah, i know. i need to go to sleep too, andrea’s probably sending out missing persons reports. but i'll see you at my dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“yes ma’am.”

“perfect,” you hug him once more before you both unravel from each other. you watch as he gets into his car and when you walk away he starts signaling you to come back by flashing his bright headlights then waving you over.

he rolls his window down and you lean against it, “forgot to say ‘goodnight’ to the pretty birthday girl,” he whispers to you making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“goodnight matt,” you reciprocate, trying not to turn into mush with how his eyes are admiring your entire face so unapologetically.

“and one more kiss for the road?”

you agree with a nod and allow him to peck you one last time, "m'kay bye matt, be good!"

౨ৎ

you shut your front door slowly and turn around to see andrea giggling, sipping another margarita as she plays with your car keys.

“you made another marg without me?” you call out.

“i had all the time in the world up here might as well,” she continues to sip and spin your keys.

“mmm, yeah ‘m sorry i took so long,” you begin to look through your fridge for any snacks when it clicks for you.

“that’s okay,” she picks up her straw and sucks some of her drink from the bottom of the straw, “i’m sure it was hard to find what ever you left without your keys.”

your change in demenor gives away everything.

“so were you just never gonna tell me you’re with matt?”

you turn around and she stops spinning the keys around her finger abruptly. “drea…”

she laughs, “no, no it’s fine. i mean, i definitely thought we told each other everything but- how long have you two been together?”

you move closer to her spot on the couch, “we’re not together.”

her eyes about fall out of her skull, “what the fuck do you mean you’re not together?! that makes it worse! if what i saw said anything it was you two are the most together ‘not together’ people i’ve ever met.”

“what all did you see?” you throw your head into a pillow on the couch.

“well when i realized you left your keys i went downstairs to bring you them but then i’m down there and immediately see you two kissing and holding onto each other like he’d just been at war for years-”

you visibly cringe and andrea shakes her head, “no i think it’s cute. i was just shocked, thinking i was imagining shit. i had to just turn around and come back up here. i hope you’re proud you know it’s hard for me to hold my tongue, i was ready to fucking scream.”

you hold the pillow your face was resting on, “i’m so proud of you.”

“… so i need some context please.” she offers you a sip of her drink.

you take a large sip from the straw before responding, "we just y'know... fuck around. he's very sure that there's nothing serious between us so. yeah."

"i'm sorry what? he told you that? and you, the most lovable bitch i know, are okay with that shit?!"

you reach for her drink and sip some more as she speaks and nodding your head along, "yes, unfortunately. but i'm, like, fine. i know i can't change him and if i can only have him like this then i'll take what i can get." andrea looks a little lost and baffled by your words. as if you'd just spoke an entirely different language.

"dre i know i sound desperate and stupid as fuck but i think that's exactly what i am at this point..."

she silently moves closer to you, wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug, "y/n you're so smart, just blinded right now by an idiot man of a crush. i can't believe you hid all of this- you haven't even spoke kindly about this man since like april. rem and i thought his mega ego turned you off his ass."

you giggle through another sip and begin to shake your head slowly, "nope... his evilness reeled me in and got me bad."

andrea laughs, "clearly you horny bitch! wow, you've held out on me so much- i need to know details."

you nod and begin to pull yourslef from the couch, heading over to the kitchen, "i'm gonna need us to start blending more drinks to get through all this shit."

౨ৎ

"hey, yeah, we're here with the party?" matt inquires to the host, lifting the small giftbag as if he needed to provide proof.

"great, they should be right down the hall and out in the patio section."

"thanks," matt dryly replies, walking towards chris and tugging his shoulder. "'s this way."

chris follows matt with a nod and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jean shorts. his face brightens immediately when approaching the full table, "hey guys what's up?!" as everyone welcomes them to he stops by andrea's seat, wrapping an arm around her lovingly and asking her how she's been. he seals their interaction with a forehead kiss before moving on to the chair next to her and greeting you with a 'happy birthday' and soft shoulder squeeze.

"what took you guys so long?" remi asks.

"i would give details but already we had a whole debacle during the car ride and matt's still a little sensitive about it," chris snickers while he takes a seat next to matt, giving him a lighthearted clap on the back.

matt begins to sarcastically laugh to himself, "alright chill out bud."

"hey, it's probably best if you both just shut the fuck up and eat some of this pasta i got. here." nick suggests, moving his plate of scraps between them.

౨ৎ

your dinner was as perfect as it could be.

you enjoyed your food quite a bit and having your friends all together is always something you cherish. you were happy to have gotten to speak with everyone in attendance even if your gaze continued to make its way back to matt, who was usually looking at you as well.

after experiencing the full restaurant staff's loud birthday chant (which only you, andrea, and remi seemed to enjoy and sing along with), you all made your way back to your shared apartment to eventually end the night.

the apartment is loud. music screaming out of speakers and voices speaking over each other. and amongst all of the ruckus andrea sends you on a mission to gather guests orders (she's taken it upon herself to play bartender for the night).

"nickk," you string out the syllables in his name as you practically lie on top of him when squeezing yourself onto his beanbag.

"y/nn" he returns the tone of voice.

"what do you wanna drink?" you click your purple glitter pen with enthusiasm and flip onto a random page in an abandoned notebook you'd just found in your closet.

"hhmmm," he rubs over his chin and pinches his eyes, "let me get your specialty- as long as its sweet. you know i hate hate hate that bitter shit!"

"yes diva, i will get you something so sweet and soooo special, don't you even worry." you write down 'nicky - sweet special'

you approach everyone, making your list of drinks along the way, before eventually nearing matt. he's slouched on the couch, phone in hand while taking long drags from asha's pen.

you place each of your hands on his knees and lean close to ask him what he'd like to drink. he smiles at first and drops his phone on his stomach as he sits up to be at level with you. "i want whatever you've had tonight. how the fuck are you tipsy already?"

you laugh, "it's my birthday, i ask the questions."

"okay but pregaming dinner is crazy," his face crinkles a bit as he laughs.

you roll your lips into your mouth realizing just how close you are to his face and feeling the smallest inkling to crawl onto matt's lap and kiss him right here.

he feels it too. especially with you leaning over him and your tits threatening to spill out of that tight dress. he just lets out a breath and reaches for your notebook and pen next to him, writing his order down for you.

just as he goes to speak again there's a knock against your door.

"y/n can you get that! i hope it's not one of our neighbors..." andrea exclaims while turning down the music.

matt's shocked by how quickly your warm hands leave his legs and you're off to answer the front door. you peer through the peep-hole and laugh, "oh my god, it's lucas!" you unlock and open the door.

"happy fucking birthday!" he pulls you in for a side hug and squeezes the fullest part of your hip as you smile against his chest that smells faintly of weed and warm amber. "what's up girl, how was dinner?" he feathers a small kiss to the top of your head and grins as you begin to overly explain every part of your birthday.

matt thinks lucas showing up to your after party is weird and bizarre as fuck. he never realized you were close with him, because when and why do you have time to talk to some pothead goof like him? and why's he holding onto you so much? and why are you so fucking happy about it?

matt bites at his bottom lip harshly, as he stares. he can only let this go on for so long before he's making his way across the room to redirect you. he and lucas make eye contact first, lucas quips his head, "heyy matt!"

"hey, man." man shortly replies with a fake smile, then looks to you, "you gonna get those drinks for your guests?" he raises the notebook.

your eyes widen, "oh shit- i totally forgot." you pull yourself from lucas to grab the notebook, thanking matt before suggesting lucas follow you so that he can get a drink and put the bottle of tequila he brought in the freezer.

matt internally twitches his eyes, but externally tightens his lips and walks away from the abandoned spot.

౨ৎ

with everyone two shots and two drinks drunker, the karaoke machine is put to use; you and andrea are now sexy dancing in the living room as asha sings a rendition "london bridge" by fergie.

nick of course sings adlibs and absolutely hollers whenever one of you drop yourselves low enough. its a miracle you haven't received a noise complaint yet.

as for matt, he's decided to play into erin's interest due to his lack of entertainment from you. he's looking deeply in her eyes, playing with her fingers, glancing down at her lips. you see it all; only you're the type to bitterly down a shot while watching from afar or whisper a sly comment into andrea's ear in the middle of dancing (to which andrea motions her finger into her mouth as if to gag at matt's actions).

you've yet to confront him, instead letting him waste his time with her.

౨ৎ

two hours after everyone agreed to go to bed, you're woken up by a few taps on your shoulder and whispers of your name.

"please- 'm tired..." you whine into your pillow.

you feel a kiss to your shoulder that draws you to at least peek your eye open. and of course matt is there- shaggy hair and shirt left somewhere in your living room.

the soft glow of your yellowed night light hits him enough for you to recognize every part of him, "matt." is all you huff before turning over.

"yeah? hey, can i be in here with you? for a sec" his voice stays at a whisper as he softly begins to move you over, "come on sunny, why y'bein' stubborn?"

you sigh and lift your head up, keeping your eyes shut as you allow your words to come out louder than you mean, "why were you flirtin' with her?!"

"shhhh! you're loud as fuck. stop it." matt's made his way under your comforter and his audacity is pissing your drunk brain off.

you pettily kick at his side and push his chest until he lifts himself up, "ow! what the fuck y/n?"

"matt why are you in here? go to sleep."

"you want me to go?"

"yeah, if you want to be holding up on erin you can go lay with her on that couch, right?"

"that's not what happened but whatever." matt shakes his head slowly and wipes a hand over his face.

"no. it's not 'whatever' matt! you were selfish. it's my fucking birthday i expected at least a little more respect from you- but clearly i'm nothing but a bird bitch to you or something."

"you know that's not how i think of you."

"do i?"

he sits closer to you, "no matter what i'm your friend at the end of the day."

if only he knew that's exactly what you'd hate to hear from him right now, "okay."

"okay."

you hold your head for a few moments before lying down and tugging the comforter over your body once more, "i don't feel like talking about this shit right now, matt. can you just come here and kiss me please?"

he nods silently, moving as close as possible so you both can kiss each other to sleep.

lil insta blurb for this chapter! (you dont need to see this for plot info)

taglist -★

@deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybab @starrysturniolo @st7rnioioss @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @sturnsintrouble @sturnrc @wovenribbons @watercolorskyy @imsosillygoofylol @sturnrc @wh0resstuff @peachmels @udonknowmeh12 @solaceinwritings @h3arts4harry @imaslutforwhitemen @lovingregulusblack @sturnsintrouble @rxeae

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff

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mopopshop · 4 months

Text

On and Off the Court

based on this request <-

words: 3.7k

summary: You've just been accepted for a sports medicine internship at the University of Connecticut, joining your best friend Sue Bird. As you meet Diana, you're quickly warned about her romantic habits. Will this warning be enough to keep you away?

made an OC for this one, hope you guys enjoy and lmk how we’re feeling about the DT stuff and if I should keep making it 🙏🏾

as always my requests are open so send me anything you guys want to see, please enjoy!!💕

UConn Campus: 2002

Securing the internship at UConn had been a long shot, but you had never been one to back down from a challenge. The application process had been rigorous—endless forms, letters of recommendation, and a nerve-wracking interview. But when the call came through, informing you that you’d been selected as an athletic trainer intern for one of the most prestigious women’s basketball programs in the country, you knew it was all worth it.

Sue was right there with you too, she’d already been attending UConn two years prior to your application but she was the one who encouraged you apply in the first place. She knew your love for sports medicine and what’s greater than having your best friend study that at your school?

You first met Sue Bird during a summer basketball camp, you’d dabbled in the physical sport before deciding on sports med. She was the cooler older girl who’d taken you under her wing and from then on you were inseparable and the rest is history.

Sue had been the one to drive you on campus for your first day, she helped you move into your dorm and now she was showing you around the UConn practice facility.

As you walk beside her, she points out players, giving you a quick rundown of who’s who. And then she mentions, almost casually, "And that’s Diana. Lemme introduce you real quick."

Your eyes follow her gesture to see Diana, tan freckled skin and a slick back curled bun, who's shooting three-pointers with an ease that defies logic. There's an intensity to her that draws you in immediately.

"Aye, D! Meet the new intern," Sue calls out. Diana pauses, her gaze shifting towards you. She walks over, her confidence apparent in every step.

"Hey, I’m Diana," she says, extending her hand. You shake it, feeling a jolt of something you can't quite identify.

"Yeah! I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Nora" you manage to say, your voice steady despite your racing heart.

She gives you a once over, nodding and biting her lip lightly “Nora, that’s a pretty name”

You flush and go to respond but Sue quickly cuts you off, clearing her throat.

“Alright! Um we’re gonna… I’m gonna show her around the rest of the place.” she makes an awkward thumb gesture, pointing down a hallway and quickly ushers you away, not even giving Diana a chance to respond.

“Do you think D’s hot?” She blurts out once you get to one of the med rooms.

“Huh?!”

She groans, rubbing a hand over her face “ D’s… she’s like- well she’s..”

“Spit it out Sue” you shove her lightly

“She like- she sleeps around! I don’t know, I just got vibes that she thinks you’re cute and as your self appointed big sister and very best friend I don’t need her breaking your heart”

“You got all that from a three-second conversation??”

“Well no- but also yes, look.. all I’m saying is I know my teammates and I absolutely know you, as much as I love D don’t fall for her lesbian flirty tactic thingys”

“Lesbian.. flirty… tactic… thingys…”

“Yes!”

“Sue you sound crazy but sure”

—————————

Your next few weeks at UConn are chill as you settle into your role, finding a rhythm in the fast-paced environment. You spend your days taping ankles, stretching out sore muscles, and learning from your mentors.

Even after what Sue said about Diana you can’t help but be attracted to her and honestly you feel that Diana reciprocates your feelings. These past few weeks you and Diana have only gotten closer, first it started with talking during practice, then getting food together after practice, and eventually hanging out at each other’s dorms.

One evening, Sue invites you to your first college party, eager to show you the social side of university life. You’re excited but also nervous, partly because you don’t know what to expect and partly because you can’t stop thinking about Diana. Despite Sue’s warnings, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something real between you and Diana, something more than just casual flirting.

The party is at a popular off-campus house, and as soon as you walk in, you’re hit by the loud music and the sight of students milling about, drinks in hand. Sue is quickly pulled into a conversation with some friends, leaving you to navigate the crowded room on your own.

You grab a drink and wander around, trying to blend in and relax. Just when you’re starting to enjoy yourself, you spot Diana across the room. Your heart skips a beat as you watch her laughing and talking animatedly with another girl, her arm casually draped over the girl’s shoulders.

You tell yourself not to overreact. After all, it’s a party, and Diana is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. You start heading in her direction, hoping to get her attention but as you walk, Diana leans in and kisses the girl, a deep, lingering kiss that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

Your stomach drops, and you feel a cold wave of disappointment wash over you. Sue’s words echo in your mind, reminding you of Diana’s reputation. You turn away, trying to focus on anything but the scene unfolding before you, but it’s no use. The image is burned into your mind.

Feeling a mix of hurt and foolishness, you decide to leave. You make your way to the door, hoping to escape unnoticed. Just as you step outside into the cool night air, you hear Sue calling your name.

“Nora! Hey, what’s wrong?” She asks, her voice laces with concern.

“Nothing, nothing! Um.. just feeling kinda nauseous, I’m gonna head back but you have fun ‘mkay?” you reach up, giving her a hug “Thanks for bringing me, I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow” you spit out before rushing to your car.

—————————

After the party, you do everything in your power to avoid Diana, shrugging away from her flirtatious touches, opting to eat lunch with Sue instead, and finding any excuse to keep her from coming back to your dorm.

One night after practice, you find yourself in the training room alone, organizing supplies. The door swings open, Diana walks in, and your heart sinks, you still have feelings for her despite everything and being alone with her doesn’t make you feel any better.

“ ‘Sup, Nora,” she greets, her voice dripping with playful charm as if she’s completely oblivious to the change in your dynamic over the past few days.

You force a smile, trying to keep up appearances despite the turmoil inside. "Hey, D"

She saunters over, her movements fluid and confident. "Just thought I'd swing by and see how you're doing. You've been kind of distant lately."

You swallow hard, struggling to find the right words. "Yeah, just busy with work and stuff."

Diana raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Is that all it is? Because it feels like there's something else going on."

You avert your gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm fine, Diana. Really."

But she doesn't seem convinced, and you can feel her studying you intently. "Nora, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I'm here for you."

Her words stir something inside you, a flicker of longing mixed with frustration. How can she act so caring and yet be the cause of so much pain?

"I don't think that's such a good idea," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Diana takes a step closer, her presence overwhelming. "Why not?"

You finally look up, and your breath catches at the intensity in her eyes. She’s so close now, you can see every detail of her face, every freckle, and the way her lips curl into a slight, confident smile. The air between you is charged with tension, and you can’t help but feel drawn to her.

“I…”

You’re standing so close now, mere centimeters apart. You can feel her breath on your skin, and it’s intoxicating. Your body leans in almost of its own accord, the pull towards her undeniable. You can see the same desire reflected in her eyes, and for a moment, you think you might actually kiss her.

But then images of Diana and that girl at the party flicker into your mind. You take a shaky step back, breaking the magnetic pull between you. “I.. I don’t know, I’ve gotta get back” you laugh awkwardly, trying to play it off and rush towards the door “Um I’ll catch you at practice tomorrow!” and with that you go, leaving Diana standing in the training room alone and confused.

—————————

The next day at practice, the atmosphere between you and Diana is noticeably tense. You arrive early, as usual, to help set up and assist with stretches. You’ve managed to avoid telling Sue about this whole Diana debacle, trying to keep from her lectures.

As the team files in, you focus intently on your tasks, hoping to avoid any awkward interactions. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic presence of Diana as she walks into the gym, her eyes immediately seeking you out.

You try to act natural, going through your routine with the players. When it’s Diana’s turn, you lead her to the training room as she takes her place on the mat, and you approach with professional detachment, though your heart is pounding.

“Morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of something more.

“Morning,” you reply, keeping your focus on the task at hand. “Let’s get started.”

As you begin to help her stretch, the proximity brings back the memory of the previous evening. Your hands brush against her skin, sending electric sparks up your arms. Diana doesn’t make it easy, her body language and occasional lingering looks making it clear she hasn’t forgotten either.

“You know,” she says quietly, “I’ve been thinking about last night.”

You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure. “ D, we shouldn’t talk about this here”

She chuckles softly, a sound that makes your stomach flutter. “Maybe not. But we can’t ignore it forever.”

You don’t respond, focusing instead on finishing the stretch. But when you look up, her face is inches from yours, her eyes dark with intent.

“Nora,” she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. “I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, her proximity overwhelming. “Diana, we can’t—”

But before you can finish, she leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s like a spark igniting, setting your senses on fire. For a moment, you forget everything—the warnings, the doubts, the pain. There’s only Diana, and the undeniable pull between you.

But just as quickly as it began, the moment is shattered as coach’s voice booms across the gym, down the hall, and into the training room, breaking the spell.

“Alright, everyone, get your asses up let’s get started!”

Diana pulls away, her expression unreadable. You’re left standing there as she runs back to the main practice area, heart racing, trying to make sense of what just happened.

As practice continues, you struggle to focus, the memory of Diana’s lips on yours distracting you at every turn. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions, pulling you in all directions at once.

After practice, you find yourself alone in the training room once again, sorting through equipment as you try to process everything that’s happened. You’re still reeling from the kiss, unsure of what it means or where things will go from here.

Just then, the door swings open, and Diana walks in, her expression determined.

“Nora,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. “We need to talk.”

You suck in a sharp breath “D I have to go I’m-“

“No, Nora you keep running and we need to talk”

“Diana…”

“Just five minutes, please”

Diana's voice is pleading, and you can see the sincerity in her eyes. Despite your reluctance, you can't deny her request. You nod silently, gesturing for her to take a seat as you settle into a chair opposite her.

For a moment, there's silence between you, the tension palpable in the air. Diana fidgets with her hands, her gaze fixed on the floor as if searching for the right words.

Finally, she looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

“I’m just confused about what’s going on between us? I mean, your first few weeks here we were inseparable and then you do a 180° on me and pretend like I don’t exist? And then- then we almost kiss and then we do kiss I’m just.. I’m confused on who you feel here.”

“You’re confused? Imagine how I fucking feel D, you flirt with me and call me pretty and take me out to eat and sleepover at my dorm and—all this other shit but turn around and kiss another girl? And on top of that you tell me you can’t stop thinking about me, It’s frustrating like just be honest” you rant, letting all your feelings from the past few months voice themselves.

Diana sits there sort of silent and you continue “Even fucking Sue warned me that’d this what happen! And I didn’t listen when I know I should’ve, it would’ve saved me all this confusion” you huff.

“Nora I…”

Diana's voice trails off, and she runs a hand through her hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. She takes a deep breath and starts again, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

“Nora, I didn’t realize how much I was messing with your head. I’ve never felt like this before, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was scared,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Scared of what?” you ask, your tone softer now but still edged with frustration.

“Of this,” Diana gestures between the two of you, “Of us, of how strong my feelings are for you. It’s easier to flirt and mess around than to face how real this is. That kiss at the party… it was a mistake. I was trying to convince myself that what we have wasn’t real, that it was all just in my head. But I can’t keep lying to myself, and I can’t keep hurting you.”

Her confession leaves you speechless for a moment, the sincerity in her words cutting through the fog of your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to process everything she’s said.

Diana reaches out, taking your hand in hers. Her touch is gentle, but there's a desperate urgency in her grip. "Nora, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to just please forgive me”

You take a deep breath, glancing down at your intertwined fingers and feeling the weight of her words. Part of you wants to hold onto the hurt, to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But another part of you recognizes the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine remorse in her voice.

"D," you start, your voice trembling slightly, "I need to know that you won't hurt me like this again. If we're going to move forward, I need to trust you."

She nods fervently, her eyes shining with determination. "I promise, I swear on fucking everything, I promise."

A small smile tugs at your lips, the vulnerability in her words melting some of the walls you've built up. "Okay, but this has to be different. No more games, no more mixed signals. I need you to be honest with me."

"I will," she promises, her voice steady. "I want to make this work, Nora. Let me start with asking you on a proper date m. No more hiding, no more confusion. Just you and me."

You feel a flicker of hope in your chest, a warmth spreading through you at her words. "A proper date, huh?"

Diana grins, her usual confident demeanor peeking through. "Yeah, a proper date.“

You stand there silently, watching her sweat a little at your lack of response.

“So? You gonna ask me?”

“Wha- I thought I just did?” genuine confusion paints her face.

“I’m waiting…..” you sing song, smiling

She rolls her eyes at your sarcasm, scoffing then takes both of your hands in hers “Nora Evans, will you please do me the honor of sharing a meal with me, outside of the facility, in a romantic setting, preferably under $40”

You chuckle nodding before glancing down at her lips. She leans in, her eyes sparkling with relief and excitement, and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. When she pulls back, you can see the sincerity in her gaze, the promise of something real and honest.

—————————

Over the next few days, you and Diana take the first steps into your new relationship. It's a gradual process, filled with small, meaningful gestures—a shared laugh, a lingering touch, a whispered promise. The awkward tension that once filled the training room is replaced by a quiet, mutual understanding.

One afternoon, you both decide it's time to tell Sue. You've been dreading this moment, knowing how protective Sue can be. But it feels right, and you want your best friend to be a part of this.

You catch Sue in the dining hall, finishing up a study session. She looks up as you and Diana approach, a curious smile on her face.

"Hey, you two," she greets, her eyes flicking between you with an all-too-knowing look. "What's up?"

You glance at Diana, who nods encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, you start, "Sue, there's something we need to tell you."

Sue raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh? This sounds serious."

You exchange a nervous look with Diana, then take a step forward. "Well, Diana and I... we're kind of seeing each other now."

For a moment, Sue just blinks at you, her expression unreadable before she groans, smacking her hand on the table “Dammit, I owe Tamika $20 bucks”

You and Diana burst into laughter “What? You were betting on us?”

“She knew the second I told you not to date DT you were gonna do it anyways, shit” she sighs “I guess I’m happy for you though” she says jokingly.

“Oh whatever, Sue” you laugh

She looks up at Diana “If you hurt my best friend, just know I’ve got something in store for your ass”

Diana raises her hands in mock surrender, a playful glint in her eyes. "Got it, Bird. No need to send out a hit squad."

Sue narrows her eyes, leaning in for dramatic effect. "I'm serious. I've got connections."

You can't help but burst into more laughter at the exaggerated threat. Sue joins in, pulling both you and Diana into a tight, affectionate hug.

"Honestly, I'm happy for you guys," Sue says sincerely, giving you a squeeze. "Just be good to each other, alright?"

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. "We will, Sue. Promise."

———

lmk how you feel about this everyone! i kinda struggled writing it but in the end i like how it turned out

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #uconn wbb #diana taurasi #pheonix mercury #diana taurasi blurb

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bookuce · 4 months

Text

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv Morgan, Austin, is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE.*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 1,827

PART TWO

PART THREE

“Say, I have a question for you,” Austin says, giving Alina a bright smile. She smiles back at him, a sign of friendliness.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“How does one manage to be as beautiful as you? I mean, you are stunning, whew!” He exclaims. Alina giggles softly at the compliment. She places her arm on the back of the couch, propping herself up on it.

“That’s really sweet to say, Austin, thank you.” She grins.

“No, thank you for blessing me with your presence. I can end the night now knowing I got to talk to you.” She rolls her eyes at his words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do and why he suddenly took interest in her, but who was she to be rude? They’ve talked a few times in passing, but it was never for long. “We should get you on UpUpDownDown.” He says. She immediately begins to shake her head.

“I don’t really play video games. I’ve never been good at them.” She answers honestly. To let her come on the show would be a waste of time. She also wasn’t comfortable embarrassing herself like that in front of several people. She has watched a few episodes and knew it was a fun show, but her participating? Not happening.

“I doubt you’re as bad as you say you are.” He assures her.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” She promises. “I am terrible at games.”

Jon still had an amused grin on his face while he watched the two talk. This man is stupid, he thought. Either Austin was crazy, or he didn’t care. Shit, probably both. “That man is going to kill his ass,” Jon mutters to Trinity.

“That’s on him.” She says, not looking up from her phone. “He warned him.” Jon looks up, catching the moment Josh pauses in his tracks at seeing Austin and Alina talking.

The eldest twin taps his wife’s thigh. “Look, look, look…” He points in Josh’s direction. This was going to be good.

Josh was happily on his way with Alina’s drink until he saw Austin had done the opposite of what he told him. They were sitting close, too close for his liking, and they seemed deep in conversation. Alina would smile at him, and Austin would smile back.

Nothing he says could be worth smiling over like that, he thought. Josh glances down at the drinks in his hand. Just go over there and give her her drink. He’ll move. Don’t cause a scene. It’s nothing, he tells himself.

If jealousy could kill, Josh would be dead ten times over. He craved the attention that everyone else got from Alina. The way she smiles at them, the way she talks to them. He wanted her to do the same to him. Instead, she’s awkward and quiet at times. That was frustrating to him. She never really hints at what goes on in her head. It made him question whether or not he should even feel how he felt. Then he’d see her trying with guys and failing, and it would make him feel some way. He just wanted to make her happy.

Josh sniffles, quickly regaining composure. He resumes his stride over to the group. When he approaches, he holds Alina’s drink out between the chatting pair. He was purposely blocking Austin’s view of her face. Alina turns to look up at him. “Ay, I got your drink.” He says, his eyes fixated on the guy next to her. Alina slowly takes the drink from him.

“Thank you, Josh…” She says.

“No problem.” He says quickly, now slowly swaying from left to right, a sign of impatience.

Alina continued to stare at him, but he would never meet her gaze. No, he was watching Austin, who was smirking at him. “You gonna sit down, Uce?” Jon asks, leaning forward. The elder twin was ready to jump up to stop his brother from doing anything stupid.

“Nah, I’m good.” He says, not breaking his glare. “You good, Uce?” He asks Austin. That was him telling Austin to move. Here he goes, Alina thought. She finally looks away from him, her lips touching the brim of her cup. She slowly tilts the cup back, drinking the cup full with no breaks. It’s going to be a long night. Austin scoffs slightly, his smile still intact.

“You got it.” He says finally, putting his hands up in defeat. He moves back into his previous spot. Josh moves to sit down in his seat.

“Was that necessary?” Alina asks.

He reaches down, grabbing her legs and pulling them between his own. “Yep.” Alina probably shouldn’t have giggled, but the two mixed drinks she shotgunned and tequila shots were beginning to creep up on her. He shouldn’t grab her like that.

“And who are you supposed to be?” She asks. Josh doesn’t answer her. Instead, he takes a swig of the beer in his hand. She places two fingers on his left cheek, forcing him to look at her. She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response. One never came. “That’s what I thought.” She drops her hand from his face. They would exchange stares until Josh would glance down at her lips. Lina would suck in a deep breath before inevitably looking away. He shouldn’t look at her like that. “Well, I want another drink.” She mutters to herself. “Who wants drinks?” She asks.

“I do,” Austin chimes in.

Alina moves to stand but is pulled back down to Josh. She plops into his lap, a gasp leaving her lips as she does so. He really shouldn’t grab her like that. “Nah, get someone else to do it.” He says. Alina’s brows furrow at him before she reaches down to remove his hand from her thigh.

“Please, go to hell.” She says, prying his hand off of her.

“Or I can go with you to the bar. How about that?” When she stands, so does he. She doesn’t argue with him, but she does roll her eyes. Alina turned her attention to the group again, only to find them staring at the pair. They weren’t sure what they were seeing. Was it fighting, flirting, or some sick combination of both? “Drinks?” She asks, gesturing to everyone.

“Get me another beer, Uce,” Jon says.

“Vodka Cran for me.” Orders Trinity.

“Two more shots of tequila.” Gionna requests.

“I’ll have a beer too.” Austin adds.

Alina steps around the couch, marching over to the bar. Josh follows behind her, leaving the group once more. Everyone exchanged glances at each other after the exchange. “They get like this every time they drink together,” Jon says, shaking his head. “How long before they fight and get us kicked out?” He asks, looking at Trinity.

“Depends. How many fruity drinks have Alina had?” She asks. It was always the fruity drinks that got poor Alina.

“Just one so far.” Gionna answers.

“It’s that bad?” Austin asks.

“Yes, fool!” Jon exclaims. “That’s why I said leave her alone! Them folks are crazy!” Alina and Josh, with alcohol in their systems, are a match made in Hell. Josh had been drinking since before Alina got to the club. The beer in his hand was his seventh. He had about three more in him before he was at the point of no return. Alina was on her third mixed drink, two of which were fruity. The tequila shots would bring her up to five drinks in total. She swears she has a high tolerance for alcohol, much like Josh does, but doesn’t. Neither of them do.

Separately, they were fine, but together? It’s a whole other story.

Josh follows behind Alina, his pace slower than hers. To him, it seemed she was trying to put space between them. She would tell him he was correct if he had to assume out loud. She shouldn't be turned on by the way he was acting tonight, but here she was, practically foaming at the mouth. Alina makes it to the bar, eyes fixated on the alcohol on the wall before her. The bartender would immediately come to her, ready to take her order. “One tequila sunrise, three beers, and a Vodka Cran.” Alina orders. She turns to Josh, who’s watching her. “I’m forgetting something.”

“Gigi’s shots.” He answers.

“Oh, right! And two tequila shots!” She says, turning to the bartender. The bartender walks away, leaving the couple alone. Josh placed his beer on the bar top and leaned in towards Alina.

“You look good.” He tells her.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay.”

“Here you go.” He huffs, shaking his head at her.

“What do you want me to say? Thank you?”

“Uh, yes? That’s the normal thing to say to compliments, Alina.”

She wasn’t much of a compliments person. It makes her feel like someone wants something from her when she hears them. The people pleaser in her would forever deliver even when she didn’t want to. “Thank you, Joshua.” She says finally.

“You’re trying to be funny.”

“I said thank you!” She says, laughing. Josh places his hand on the barstool behind Alina, blocking her in. After a bit of silence, she turns to him. “You look good too.” She says, leaning into him. The bartender put out her tequila sunrise, and she immediately grabbed it.

Josh glances down at his appearance. “Do I?” She nods. “I put this on for you.” He jokes. Alina would take a sip of her drink, humming softly at it. “Is it good?” Josh asks, leaning into her again.

“Yeah, taste it.” She brings her glass to his lips, all while still holding his gaze. Her stare always made him weak in the knees. All she had to do was look at him, and Josh was under her command. He’d part his lips slightly, allowing the rim of the glass to touch his lips. She’d tilt it back, letting the orange liquid touch his tongue. The taste of Orange Juice came and went quickly. All that was left behind was the strong taste of tequila. Josh pulls his head back. “Yeah?” She asks, lowering her drink.

“Nah,” He says quickly, shaking his head. “That drink is strong as hell.” They both start to laugh. God, they were drunk. Alina leans into his arms, burying her face in his chest. His hand would move from the chair and touch her back. That touch was the catalyst for what was to come. His fingertips would trace her spine, sending shivers along her body. She’d arch towards him, lifting her head to look at him. They were very close, their noses almost touching.

“You shouldn’t touch me like that.” She whispers.

“My bad.” He whispers back. His hand would curl against the small of her back, now closing and opening in a scratching manner. She shakily breathes, her head tilting down to break his gaze. “Lina.” He calls to her.

Ah, fuck it, Alina thought as she pulled his face to hers in a bruising kiss.

NEXT PART

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

A/N: So y'all blew the first and second parts of this up...that's cool lol.

Thank you to everyone who is reading this so far! I really do appreciate all the kindness and support I am receiving! It means a lot to me!

Stay tuned for part four!

🏷️list: @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @trashbin-nie @meannaim @siriuslycee

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #main event jey uso

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dr-spectre · 25 days

Text

I watched this YouTube shorts video which has over 100k likes on it where it basically went "oh the Splatoon fandom is weirdddddd!!! It has weird porn in it guys!!! Isn't that crazy?!?! It's so toxic guys!!! They found ways to weaponise racism guys!! They are so vile about splatfests guys!!!! They are gooning to splatoon characters!!! They are kids!!"

I hate to break it to you dude but.... that's literally every fanbase in existence.

Every single fandom on planet earth has weird porn in it. Splatoon is no different. Is it fucking weird to goon over the player Inklings and Octolings as they are confirmed to be under 18? YES! VERY VERY WEIRD AND THAT BEHAVIOUR NEEDS TO GET CALLED OUT!!!!!! But a large majority of fans who engage in NSFW content are looking at the Idols and other adult characters, not the literal teenagers. Plus adult Inkling and Octoling ocs do exist, i should know BECAUSE I MADE MY OWN!!!!!

Also do not judge people's fetishes unless it's actively harming someone or it's illegal. That's wrong on so many levels. Stop making people feel guilty about what they are into man. If someone wants to make an NSFW art piece with Marie's feet then I'm not gonna judge them publicly for it. That's straight up rude and the guy in the video was basically doing that by showing some stolen fetishy art and adding an "eww" audio clip on it... Fuck off dude. Leave them alone.

He also got the release year of Splatoon wrong by saying 2013 instead of 2015.... Not the worst mistake but still... Kinda paints a picture on how much he truly cares about this franchise you know?

One of his points can be boiled down to "they are using splatfests as a way to weaponize racism." What the FUCK are you talking about? The last time i remember a Splatfest being toxic was in Splatoon 1 with CALLIE VS MARIE! THAT WAS REALLLLLLLL BAD! Other than that it's been friendly jokes and little jabs at the enemy teams. He fucking used this terrible video as a way to demonstrate his point too....

Every Splatoon fan on the planet doesn't like that video, It just comes off to me as so disingenuous.

Also fun fact! SPLATOON 1 TO 3 HAD UNDERLYING THEMES ABOUT RACISM WITH THE INKLINGS AND OCTOLINGS!!!!!! Splatoon 1 was about the introduction of that idea and it was very black and white with hints of grayness found in the sunken scrolls. Splatoon 2 was about making it more gray as Callie joined the Octarians and THE ENTIRETY OF OCTO EXPANSION!!!!!!!!!!! Splatoon 3 was the conclusion to that theme with DJ Octavio helping out the NSBS and Octolings co-existing with Inklings peacefully. But did he bring that up? NOPE!!!!!!!

Trying to paint the Splatoon fandom as some "toxic trojan horse" is just... fucking wrong. There are plenty of fandoms out there that are 100x worse than Splatoon's. The Splatoon community is extremely diverse and sure there are issues that need to fixed and yes there is racism. The Splatoon community is leagues above any other shooter game community by far. Play a bunch of quick play matches of Overwatch or TF2 to see what I'm saying. You're gonna be seeing the n word more times than a Quintin Tarantino movie.

Also he talked about peak character design in the Splatoon games, and the one character he mentioned was.... Big Man... The only male Idol and not anyone else. That just seems a bit.... suspicious to me...

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mono-moonchilds · 1 year

Text

NOT THE ONLY ONE | JJK

⤑ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

⤑ genre: smut and angst

⤑ rating: explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 3.3K

⤑ summary: whoever said that the truth would set you free was a liar. the truth was cold and it hurt. and sometimes it still left you stuck in the same cycle.

⤑ warnings: college fic, jk is an asshole, manipulative behavior, infidelity, gaslighting, sad!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oc wants to be loved, toxic relationship

⤑ part one

The morning after was always the worst.

A harsh feeling of shame washing over every step you took as you made your way through the campus. Realistically no one knew. There was no way they could. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to tell anyone and you definitely weren’t either. But despite knowing that it still didn’t help. It felt like everyone was staring at you- quietly judging you for the decisions you made.

Could you blame them though?

You knew exactly how everything was going to end the moment you saw Jungkook at your door. The worst part was that you’d do it again. Despite the shame and the sadness, you’d do it all over again just for those few fleeting moments of happiness.

It was pathetic.

Always craving more of Jungkook even after he showed you his true colors time after time. Always trying to convince yourself of the maybes. That maybe he would be true this time, maybe he’d stay, maybe he would simply see that you were worth it. That you were worth his time, his energy, his commitment.

It was something about never being the first choice that really fucked with someone’s well-being. Fucked with the way you carried yourself- the way you looked at yourself. Sometimes when you looked at old photos you couldn’t even recognize the person you saw. The bright smile you once sported was so foreign and far to you now.

“Y/n!” You turned to see Hoseok jogging your way. The sweet smile he always sported etched across his face just like usual. “I’ve been calling your name for a while now.”

“Ah- sorry. Didn’t even hear you.”

“I’m about to go meet Yoongi for lunch you wanna come?”

“I got a class that starts in like fifteen minutes,”

“Gross,” Hoseok gagged in disgust. “Come on just ditch this once. I got shit to tell you about last night.”

“I can’t. It’s one of Professor Williams’ classes. You know how she is.”

Right on cue, just like it always did when Hoseok heard that name, the smile on his face dropped only to be quickly replaced with genuine annoyance and anger. “Fucking hate that bitch,” He grumbled with a scowl.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “For some reason, something tells me the feeling is most likely mutual.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “I got weed,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a baggy. “Top tier gossip and weed. You’re crazy if you turn this down.”

“As tempted as I am, I still gotta say no. Top tier gossip and weed or my literal grade in a class that I pay to attend.” You held up your hands as if you were physically weighing both options. “I think we both know the obvious choice here.”

Hoseok booed, quite literally booed, throwing down both thumbs in the process. “Fine. Even though we both know you could tell that woman you murdered someone and she would still let you make up anything you missed. What’s the point of being the teacher's pet if you don’t use it for your advantage?”

“Save me some and tell me everything when I get home later?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok shrugged. “I may not be in a talky mood later.”

It was silent for only a moment before the two of you both burst into laughter. Hoseok not being in the mood to talk? That was like a fish suddenly deciding it could live without water. It was never going to happen.

As you watched Hoseok leave, the tiny slither of okay-ness that you’d briefly felt left with him. Maybe you should just ditch class this once. Realistically what harm could it do? You were already ahead in your work and like Hoseok said Professor Williams wasn’t going to do anything to you if you missed a class. God knows you could use the distraction. The second Hoseok left; your brain immediately went back to Jungkook.

What was he doing? What was he thinking? Did he feel bad for leaving you like that? Did he feel bad for the way he treated you?

You already knew the answer to these questions, but you still couldn’t help but think of the maybes. Those damn maybes and the endless possibilities they could hold were going to be your downfall.

“H-,” You were about to call out to Hoseok telling him to wait up when something stopped you in your tracks.

More accurately- someone stopped you in your tracks.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve sworn that you were having a heart attack. The pain in your chest is almost enough to knock you to your knees. You blink once, twice, and then a third trying to convince yourself that you were going crazy. That you’d finally lost it and were just seeing things.

But no matter how much you blinked or rubbed, the sight just wouldn’t go away. It was real. The girl clinging to Jungkook’s arm was very real. You wanted to believe that it was something new- that she was just another fling like you but there was something that was off. The way the two of them held each other had a sense of familiarity. The way their hands and eyes lingered. This wasn’t a fling and it definitely wasn’t anything new.

It was cultivated.

It was seasoned.

It was everything you wanted.

“I love you,” The girl leaned up pressing a long kiss to Jungkook’s lips. Even the way he smiled- it was something that you’d never seen before. The small smile on his face as he stared down at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“Love you too baby.”

Your heart shattered.

When the two turn to go their separate ways Jungkook notices you. His mouth fell open a little as he looked between you and his girlfriend. She was none the wiser. A happy little bounce in her step as she entered the nearest building. Jungkook said nothing and neither did you. In fact, you did the exact opposite. You turned and ran, hightailing it out of there as fast as you could. There was this hope that Jungkook would yell after you, that he would chase you down and say something.

He never did.

Her name was Imani.

She was an education major. She had an older sister, a German Sheppard, and two loving parents. She liked taking pictures of sunsets. Always posted her adventures with her friends. Had more community service under her belt than a delinquent teen that was being forced by the state. She’d been on two study-abroad trips. One in Japan and the other in Brazil. And as recently as last semester she’d transferred into the University after leaving one that’d been closer home.

She was kind of difficult to find. And for a moment you thought maybe you were seeing things. From Jungkook’s Instagram page, you would’ve never even assumed he had a girlfriend. Most of his pictures consumed him at the gym or of random food he’d eaten. There were no pictures of her or them together and Jungkook had his tags hidden. It wasn’t until you went through the comments of ten different pictures that you found her.

l0V3lY.M4N1: my baby is so handsome 😍

Jungk00k: 💖💖💖

Her page told a different story.

Jungkook was everywhere. He was in a post as recent as a week ago and one as old as five years ago.

Imani and Jungkook had been together since their junior year of high school.

They’d attended prom together, went to each other’s family functions, hell- they spent holidays together.

If you weren’t so close to the verge of tears you’d laugh. The whole thing is hilarious in a sick way. This entire time you’d been hoping- praying that Jungkook would see you as a person when in reality he already had his person. He’d had her for half a decade. She was pretty and vibrant. Kind of reminded you of those girls you’d see on Pinterest. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, cute clothes.

You were a mess. The fading pink curls on your head matted together. The sweat jacket and pants you had on hung sloppily against your body.

With a loud noise, Jungkook's name pops across your screen. You immediately send him to voicemail. He doesn’t give up though. No matter how many times you decline the call Jungkook keeps calling again and again and again. You could’ve easily blocked him but something about the persistence he was finally making made your heart flutter in a sad way. A sick smile creeping onto your mouth each time his name popped back up. After the tenth time, you couldn’t help but swipe your thumb across.

“Open the damn door.” Click. There was a heavy knock. Your hand was already on the doorknob before you could even let out the next breath.

When the opened the door, it was like muscle memory. A loud smack echoed through the hall.

“Damn,” A distant voice in the hall echoed out.

Jungkook’s head slowly turned back to face you. His eyes were low with anger. “That make you feel better?” He huffed out.

“No. Go the fuck home Jungkook.”

Of course, he didn’t listen. Just like the night before he pushed his way into the apartment shutting the door behind him.

“List-”

“You’re a real piece of shit you know that right?” You cut him off. “Just when I think you couldn’t get any worse you prove me wrong. You have a girlfriend!”

“It doesn’t mean anything,”

You blinked in disbelief. Did he really just say that? You couldn’t help but laugh. Jungkook stared at you like you’d grown two heads. His face twisted between a mix of discomfort and confusion.

“You’ve been together for five years.”

“How do you even know that?”

You held up your phone flicking on the screen. “It’s all right here,”

“What the fuck,” Jungkook attempted to reach for the phone, but you were too quick. Stepping back, you smoothly moved it away. “Are you fucking crazy!” You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s booming voice.

There was nothing but pure disgust on his face and even though it should’ve truly been the opposite way around you couldn’t help but feel shame.

“What is wrong with you?”

You couldn’t even answer. The phone you were holding so proudly in the air just a second ago now feeling as heavy as a bag of sand.

“I don’t even know why I came here,” Jungkook sighed letting out a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”

Let him leave.

Please just let him leave.

Your brain quietly begged you.

His hand was on the knob. Jungkook was almost gone. Just let him leave.

“Jungkook please,” You quietly called out. “Please don’t leave. I’m…. I’m- I’m sorry.”

For once when you looked at Jungkook he genuinely seemed to be in shock. Like even he was in disbelief of what he’d just heard. You couldn’t even believe it yourself. Out of all the things you should’ve said, had you really just apologized?

“Please-” He closed his eyes. “Don’t apologize…. why are you fucking apologizing? Shit-” Jungkook whispered running his hands over his face. “I…I can’t,”

“Jungkook please,”

“What do you want from me!” The dark hair boy whipped around. “Fuck…baby,” Jungkook swore again. “I didn’t mean to yell. Please don’t cry.”

You whispered a small okay, but the tears didn’t stop. Even as Jungkook moved forward his soft hands cupping your face as he gently tried to wipe the tears away, they didn’t stop. Just like last night when Jungkook touched you- you couldn’t help but lean further into him. Your body curled into him as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“What are you doing to me?” Jungkook mumbled. It was so quiet you weren’t even sure you were meant to hear it.

For the first time since the very first time, Jungkook was soft. His lips gently caressed yours as he guided you through the narrow hall and to your bedroom. As Jungkook laid you down you couldn’t help but cling to him. Your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body as if you let go he would just disappear. You knew he was going to leave at some point- he always did- but for right now you wanted him as close as possible.

Imani be damned. Jungkook was yours and you were his.

At least for this moment.

“Take this off,” He tugged at your jacket. Without a second thought, you leaned forward sliding the jacket over your head before letting it fall to the floor. “My pretty girl,” Jungkook whispered sliding your bra off next. A low whine escaped you as Jungkook’s fingers ghosted across your skin.

“What do you want?”

“Anything,”

A light chuckle left Jungkook’s nose. In all honesty, it made you feel gross. The way the knowing smirk registered on his face as he thought about your words. Even though you hadn’t technically said it Jungkook knew what you meant. He knew exactly what he was doing and that alone should’ve made you push him off you.

But you didn’t. Instead, you begged.

He just shushed you. “You don’t want me to rush right?” You quickly shook your head. “I know you don’t want me to.”

With that, Jungkook went back to what he was doing. Tracing his fingers along while you lay there taking whatever he gave you. Piece by piece, Jungkook took his time removing the remainder of your clothes.

“I haven’t even done anything and you're so fucking wet,” Jungkook reached down spreading your lips apart. “You’d take anything I gave you. Do anything I say. Wouldn’t you?” You gave a shameful nod. Jungkook just smiled smugly to himself.

You let out a breath of relief as Jungkook finally leaned down pressing long kisses against your body. The dark-haired boy not stopping until he was right in front of the place you needed him most.

The loud blaring of Jungkook’s phone ringing pulled the two of you from the moment. You couldn’t see who was calling but for some reason, you already knew.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook said sweetly into the phone confirming your suspicion. The lust-filled fog you’d briefly felt immediately lifted and now all that was left was disgust. What the hell were you doing?

“No no-” He laughed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. Yeah no-” Jungkook let out a deep breath. “I’m still not feeling to well.” A soft whimper escaped your lips as Jungkook took his thumb resting it on your clit as he rubbed against the small button in circular motions.

Pouting his lips out, Jungkook silently shushed you. “No babe don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow. M’just gonna lay down and go to sleep.” He pushed a finger in making you gasp.

“Yeah, I know.” Jungkook hummed. “I love you too,”

If Jungkook hadn’t hung up the phone so quickly the sound of you bursting into tears would’ve definitely exposed the five different lies he’d just told. Never once in all your years had you experienced two totally different emotions at once.

“Y/n- baby,” Jungkook cooed softly as he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sucked in a shaky breath, arms wrapping around your body. “What the fuck-” You heaved. It felt like you were about to throw up. “Oh my god… what am I do- you-you have a girlfriend.”

“But I’m here with you. Just let me do this.” Jungkook begged. He sounded so sincere. You could feel yourself falling back under. “Just one last time. You- you drive me crazy.”

It was so sad how that was all it took for Jungkook to have you back under his spell. A faint smile filled his lips as he pushed back so he could stand up and pull down his pants. The tip of his cock was dark red and leaking with anticipation.

You began to roll over onto your stomach but a hand resting on your hip stopped you. “I wanna see you,” Your heart swelled.

Despite the position change, Jungkook was still as rough as he usually was. His fingers dug harshly into your throat as he fucked you. As much as you didn’t want to think about it you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if this was how he treated Imani. The very nature in how he spoke to her was so different that you couldn’t imagine it to be true. Jungkook was probably so gentle with her, he took his time making her feel special with every touch while with you Jungkook just fucked you like some whore.

And that’s all you were. At least to him.

That still didn’t stop you from grasping at his arm as you asked for more.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Jungkook demanded. “Wanna see you. Need shit-” He let out a deep groan. “Need to see you.”

You nodded your head in compliance but with the way Jungkook pushed into you, it was too hard to keep your word. “ah- Kook…please- fuck,” The way he looked on top of you was so gorgeous. His hair hung in his face as his eyebrows twisted in determination.

“I know baby,” Jungkook gasped as he twisted your left nipple between the balls of his fingers. “You’re so good- doing so fucking good.” You let out a loud whine. “What is it, baby?”

“Muh-more. Please- more,”

“Words baby,”

You weren’t even sure what you meant. Whether you meant it literally, figuratively, or both. Probably both. All you wanted was Jungkook.

Instead of saying anything else you just pulled him closer until his body was lying flat against yours. When Jungkook pulled away you almost felt yourself about to cry, rejection flooding your body, but within seconds he hushed you pulling your legs onto his shoulders before he leaned down pressing himself against you again.

“No marks,” He muttered sternly. You hadn’t even realized you’d begun. Jungkook didn’t follow his own direction though. His lips sucking eagerly on your neck as he continued to fuck you open.

You couldn’t help the tears rolling down your face. You just wanted this all the time. Wanted Jungkook all the time.

“Please, please”

“My pretty baby gonna cum?” You bounced your head eagerly. “Me too- mmm… you feel so fucking good.” You gasped loudly clenching tightly around him. “That’s right baby- give it to me.”

You’re sure the neighbor can hear you as you scream out in pleasure from the band in your stomach snapping. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as nothing but the sound of static and color white filled your brain.

Jungkook came with a loud groan. His body stuttering against yours as his warm cum painted your walls creamy white. Even as Jungkook fell to the side rolling onto his back you didn’t let him go. Your arms wrapped around his stomach as if he would disappear if you let him go for just a second.

Because he would. Undoubtedly Jungkook was going to leave you and there was nothing you could do about it.

He was going to walk out of here and go back to Imani as if nothing between the two of you had ever existed. Just the thought of him running his hands along her deep brown skin is enough to make you want to puke.

And as much as you wanted to hate her you couldn’t. You were the one in the wrong. Maybe you didn’t know about her at first but now you did, and you’d still slept with Jungkook.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I hate you. I hate you so much.” You sobbed.

“I know,” Jungkook took a long pause. “I hate me too.”

When you woke up the next morning just like you expected your room was empty. The only trace of Jungkook even being here is the scattered marks along your jaw.

When you picked up your phone it’s still where you left it last night.

On Imani’s Instagram page.

You don’t know why you did what you did next.

You click the little blue button in the top left corner.

⤑ A/N: I'm sorry guys I know a lot of you who liked the first story wanted a part two where jk was redeemed but tbh I just could not think of a storyline for that. even when this one-shot was originally jikook I had always imagined that if there was a pt 2 in the next fic jk would turn out to have had a significant other the whole time. also, I like angst sue me :p

#bts smut #bts x black reader #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #bts jungkook #jungkook x black reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #btshoneyhive

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avochele · 1 month

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The Idol - Ruby Red.

tags. idol!woozi x idol!oc, fluff, angst

headquarter.

chapter 1.

synopsis. In wich a girl has a way too personal connection to a ceiling fan and in wich people need to learn that not everything is what it appears to be.

“People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.”

warnings. toxic fans, obsession, anxiety, objectification(?), stalking, blood, obsessive crazy and toxic fans, oc is a simp for woozi (but honestly who isn't?), both are hopelessly in love and too dense to notice, I have no idea how recording a song or being an idol works so please excuse my messy excuse of a song production etc., obsessive fan incidents inspired by tvxq's sasaeng incidents (because no one in their right mind could come up with stuff like that) (more will be added if needed.)

note. Blame my impatience for the irregular updates. sorry.

Red. Everything is red. I don’t like red. Haven’t liked it for 6 years.

I’m sure I did like it at some point. I can’t remember. I should like red. Red is my business in a way. It’s my job. Red made me successful. Popular. Famous.

But I don’t think it makes me happy.

For the longest time I noticed something missing. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when. But I have been feeling like I’m in a void. A void of nothingness. Except for the red specks everywhere.

There should be more. I should be happy. But I am not.

The fan above my bed buzzes softly as it blows cool air onto my skin. They told me to get an AC. I didn’t. I like the sound of the fan. It calms me. It has been there since I moved in and it has not once failed me. I don’t see a point in getting rid of something that lacks in nothing but age. If it does its work - and that it certainly does - why replace it.

I shouldn’t be having such a personal connection to a ceiling fan.

I open my eyes. The red is gone. The blowing air causes my eyes to tear up momentarily, causing me involuntarily to look in another direction but up.

I see a white furball laying at the end of my bed. Next to me. Not quite out of reach. I could stretch my arm and feel her soft fur. But I don’t. I don’t feel like moving.

I like my job. I like what I do. I am one of the few people on this earth who were able to fulfil their dream. And I would never change this for anything. It’s just the red that bothers me.

I reach for my phone. The case. Red. Like everything else. It was the details that made me become the Idol I am today. The small parts that were red. That were sensual. That were exciting. That were loving.

People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.

The sheets under me rustle as I sit up. Marie’s tail moves over the white sheets. The white curtains - that look almost beige because of the setting sun - stop the light from travelling further into the room.

It’s 8pm. I should be heading out soon. I’m working late today. They gave me midday off. I was at the company yesterday until the middle of the night. I came back at around 3 am and today won’t be any different.

I like the late practice hours. The moments when only a few people are in the building. When it’s quiet. Almost so quiet that I miss the buzzing of my fan in my room.

They have an AC in the building. I like my fan.

I get up. My Bag with my stuff stands next to my door, seemingly waiting for me to pick it up. I’m driving to the company alone today. I’ll be meeting my manager there. She told me to be there in time. I’m already running late.

I tap my freshly manicured fingers on the steering wheel. Dark cherry red with golden accents. I like them. They're pretty, if it weren’t for the red. It isn't as bad as other reds. Not as striking as others. But red. Still. I’d love it. If it weren’t red.

The traffic light shines in a neon light inside my car. Painting everything an anxiety inducing colour.

It’s the colour I'm used to the most. The striking red that fills the stage as soon as I’m about to enter. It’s the colour I hate the most.

The red changes colour and the cars start moving again. Out of reflex I look into the rear-view mirror. Nothing suspicious yet. But they could be anywhere. The people that call themselves my fans but do nothing to make it seem like they are.

There were incidents. People had followed me. People found out where I live. People sent me packages. All kinds of packages. I don't like the packages. Not because of the striking red they are always wrapped in but because of the red inside.

I’d be alright as soon as I arrive in the parking garage under the Hybe Building. It’s only six minutes away now.

Another red light. I check the time on my phone. I am late. I had expected it and texted Taeja. She hadn’t responded but she read it. I know she did. She never really answers. She’s not a big texter.

I drive into the garage. The fluorescent light flickers for a moment before it shines on the few cars still there. I drive by Taeja’s car and park right next to the elevator. That way I don’t need to walk that much when I leave again.

A few metres away stands another car. I’ve seen it a lot. It’s always there when I come and it’s always there when I leave again. I don’t know who it belongs to.

The hallway is long and dark. I like these Hallways. No trace of colour. Just pure and grave grey or black. I enter the practice room Taeja said she’ll wait in.

The room is quiet. Taeja stands right next to the mirror that takes on almost one part of the whole wall. She types something on her phone.

The backup dancers are sitting all over the room on the floor. I have known some of them since the beginning. Many of them have changed agencies since my debut. Just a handful stayed.

I consider them my friends. Even though we never really met outside the company. I’m happy they stayed. At least that hasn’t changed.

Even though the way they view me might have changed. But that’s for my old me to worry about. Everyone changes. And so do I.

“I thought you’d be even later.” She says as she puts her phone on the small stand next to her. “Traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I say, putting my bag next to the door.

“Have you eaten anything?” She always asks that. I don’t blame her. “Yeah. I had TakeOut earlier.” I answer her.

She nods satisfied and claps her hands. “Then shall we start?”

The room is dark. The only light in the room comes from my computer and the sunset lamp in the corner. My friend got it for my birthday.

He’s been in my studio more times than I can count and he’s always been complaining about it not being cozy enough.

Next to the lamp hangs a printed picture that takes over a good fourth of the wall. It’s me on stage at Coachella. I like the picture. Even though the lightsticks make me look like I'm standing on a red ocean.

I’m not surprised they gave me the red one.

I tried making my studio not so red. I think that’s why Seungkwan gave me the sunset lamp. It’s not red. It’s more like a golden orange but still fits my vibe I suppose.

I like it. The plant under the picture lets its leaves hang a little. I don’t know what to do about it. I tried everything. Even talked to it. My best friend said that might help. It didn’t.

I’ve been sitting in front of my computer for a good forty minutes now. Staring at the small symbols.

I don’t know how this works. I should get Beomju to check it over.

I close the file.

I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. It’s coloured in orange light. The water bottle rustles slightly as I pick it up from my desk.

My phone says 2am. I lean forward and send the file to Beomju. The track is almost finished, just needs to be filed to perfection. This is for Beomju to worry about. He knows what the company likes. I don’t feel like putting up with that now. I text him that I’ve sent it to him. Close my phone and get up.

My dark red zip up sweater lays carelessly on my couch together with my bag. The rhinestones on it shine mindlessly in the orange light. I grab it and turn off the light.

The way back to the garage is quiet. I lean against the elevator wall and close my eyes for a moment. The slight rumble of the elevator keeps me from banging my head against the wall. I pull my black cap down a little.

The door opens and white fluorescent light flickers as I step out into the cold parking lot. The garage is almost empty now. Besides my own car there is only the one that's always there.

My steps are the only thing being heard in the empty garage. I open the passenger door and throw my bag onto the seat.

As I walk around it to get to the drivers side the elevator door pings open again. I look up not having expected another person to come down this late.

A guy around my height leaves the elevator. He’s wearing a cap that hides his dark, seemingly long hair, a black shirt that looks a little too big on him but at the same time too tight to conceal anything around his shoulder and chest area and black sweatpants.

He holds a grey sweatshirt in his hand together with his phone. The other one reaches to unlock his car. It’s the car in front.

My hand still lays on the door handle when he looks up. He looks at me and my heart jumps a little.

Red. Everything seems red all of a sudden. I don’t know what happend. But when he looked at me my chest turned warm. The heat creeping up my neck.

I stared. I stared goddamn much. And he noticed.

He smiles at me and bows slightly. Still with my hand on the door handle I lower my head a little. An attempt at a relaxed bow.

I’ve seen him before. Multiple times. Many times actually. Why does it feel so different now? Because I’m not on stage? Pumped with adrenaline? Because he’s not with Seungkwan? Or Minghao? Joshua? Or anyone I know?

What is happening?

I’m still staring. I turn to my car and open the door before scrambling to put my sweater on.

My face is still burning red. And I hope for everything that he doesn’t notice.

I bow one last time without looking at him and hurry to get into the driver's seat. I’m not sure if I trust myself enough to immediately leave. So I scramble to make it look like I’m busily doing something on my phone.

I connect the speakers to my phone. I type in the navigation. I type a message but am really just trying to get him to leave first.

His car lights blind me for a second and then he goes driving right by me. I see his backlight. And then he’s gone.

Everything's still red. A deep shade of red. I lean back and knot my hand through my hair.

Close my eyes. Open them again. Still red.

Damn you Woozi for making me see red.

TAGLIST. @readerwonnie @thepoopdokyeomtouched @berriebeetles @rvebyntvr

This work will be simutaneously posted on my Wattpad [click here.]

All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a story review.

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the-fandom-finder · 1 month

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It think my main problem with some Izzy fans is they straight up lie or have extreme cognitive dissonance for stuff. “Izzy is more popular than ed/stede” no you were just around people who like is he more than them? I promise you the average person fandom or not does not like him more than the main characters. Also, just because he’s popular in the fandom doesn’t mean he’s a better character. You how many fandom I’ve been where they sent her around the white male character more than any other character? So often it’s a dime a dozen. He talks about how crazy Ed is before we even meet the character and when we meet him, he’s just a little suicidal at very least at that point. honestly even if he did survive, it would not make sense for him to be the captain of the ship. It’s canon that he’s not good at running anything and only really good at violence. he’s an interesting character meant to represent toxic masculinity at least in season one and how breakable and fragile it is. Honestly, him and Zuko have a lot in common when it comes to fandoms. These characters are both flawed and I’ve done bad things, but for some reason, some fans wanna make them look perfect like they’ve done nothing wrong and excuse everything that comes with the cost of completely miss characterizing everyone else around them. Man called the British, which are basically the cop because he didn’t get what he wants and view himself as knowing Ed more than himself which is messed up, bro. and the story portrays this as bad like it should be. Also, why are all the tags that were created to criticize Izzy taking over by Izzy fans like you asked for a specific tag and then take it over and then get upset when people use it. I also have seen fans on Twitter called themselves Ofmd hater and then spend all their time talking about the show. It’s OK to move on. It is not the Izzy show and never was. I have to rewash the show to remember Izzy‘s and actually interesting character because his fans have changed him so much that I can’t stand him if I don’t watch the show. There is a reason why people were being rude against the phantom for some stupid reason reasons or only a small group of people they named them and that weird little list they had. Now I don’t think any of the Izzy fan should be attacked or doxxed because that’s just weird and wrong. That doesn’t mean you can’t criticize them and how weird they are about this white man. I think it’s time for some of you who just have so much hatred of everything else in the TV show. Make an OC That’s like 2 inches away from that character and leave you’ll be much happier. Another problem I have is how some people treat David he’s not a perfect man nor perfect writer, but to go out of your way to say you understand the story infinitely more than him is crazy. He is shown multiple times he loves the character. This is just how he wanted to take him in the story not out of malice,, not out of homophobia not of hatred for disabled people, but because that’s how his story was always going to end he just got to die slightly less full of hate and may be a little happy. Izzy and ed had no chance of ending up together. The story basically states that pretty early that it was one-sided and not entirely healthy on either side. Also celebrating the show knocking a third season and people losing their jobs even though you were probably going to see Izzy again in some form is crazy. I promise you your hate did nothing or brothers was just being a cheap ass and canceled other diverse shows so it definitely wasn’t because of you. Either way, I guess I win in the end. I still love the show and not full of anger at least about this. I got a lot of other problems lol. This post is probably way too long about something that doesn’t really matter too much but it feels good to get it out especially with finals coming around. If you read this entire thing and hate me well thanks for reading. I guess. Hope you have a nice day and I mean that genuinely life‘s kind of sucks right now for everyone lol.

#our flag means death #izzy critical #thanks to comment I want to reiterate I do like Izzy but he is a grown man not a wet cat and made a lot of really bad mistakes

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pommpuriinn · 4 months

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 4

๋࣭⭑ pairing ๋࣭⭑- idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook

๋࣭⭑ synopsis ๋࣭⭑- a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.

๋࣭⭑ a/n ๋࣭⭑- jk enters the chat (∩˃o˂∩)

outfit | makeup | hair | nails

Today is hybe day which Estrella was pretty excited about, and it’s definitely not to see a boy that she’s been looking at all his videos since last night. No, never that. Megan did give her a little talk in the car about the dating life between idols which shocked Estrella with how extreme the fandom could get over their idol dating. Did it shock Estrella? Yes, but did it scare Estrella? No.

“So who’s taking me on this tour?” Estrella and her team got out of the car, and the fans that were waiting instantly started cheering. Estrella waves and smiles while Megan started explaining, “BTS’s Jungkook is your tour guide along with his translator.” Estrella nods at Megan while continuing her fanservice before making it through the entrance doors. The team was met with workers and security already signing them in and giving each one badges to enter further into the building. “Woah, their security goes crazy.” Daya says while looking at her visitor badge. “They even have face recognition to enter!” Sana was in awe, “we should get this back home.” Sana adds while passing through the mini gate.

Just around the corner Estrella spots Jungkook with his translator talking. Again Estrella was shocked with how handsome these idols are, and once her eyes land on his tattoo sleeve it was over for her. Of course she hid her attraction and kept it professional. “Hello~” Estrella gives them a little bow which they immediately reciprocated back. “Hello, I-I’m Jungkook.” He stutters. Estrella giggles at his natural cuteness plus how cute his voice is when speaking English. “Your English is so cute.” Estrella compliments. Jungkook quickly shakes his head ‘no’ while laughing feeling flustered. After the cute interaction the translator introduces herself as, Jiwon.

As they starts their tour, Estrella completely forgot that there will be a camera following them as they are filming this whole thing. “Oh, hi~” Estrella waves at the camera, making Jungkook chuckle. “She’s better with the camera than me.” Jungkook points out. “I am?” Estrella sends Jungkook a teasing smile. Jungkook gasps, “you know Korean?” The group laughs. “A little bit, I been studying.” Estrella flips one her braids back acting cocky. Jungkook already ready to risk it all for Estrella. I mean who can blame him she’s a beautiful talent woman.

Jiwon showed Estrella the cafeteria, the mini cafe, and all the lounge rooms. “Megan we need the mini cafe back home.” Estrella jokingly whines, causing small laughs from the staff. Megan shakes for head ‘no’ and tells her to focus making the staff laugh harder at the two’s relationship. “Do you want something?” Jungkook offers looking down at Estrella. “Really?” Estrella’s doe eyes unleashed. Jungkook’s heart beats faster. Jungkook hums and nods back at Estrella, he couldn’t trust his words afraid of stuttering. Jungkook takes everyone to cafe the building has and waits for Estrella to make her decision. “I want…matcha!” Estrella points at the matcha latte. Jungkook couldn’t help but snicker at her puppy like behavior. Before ordering Jungkook asks if any of the staff want anything including Estrella’s team. Which surprised them and asks if he was sure, and he confidently says ’yes so he ended up ordering Estrella, Daya, and Sana’s drinks.

Just as he was finish Estrella hugs his arm, “thank you~” Jungkook learns sooner than later that Estrella is a very touchy person, but he doesn’t mind at all. It’s refreshing actually since Korean people are more reserved than where she’s from. Even Jiwon was a bit shock at Estrella hugging Jungkook’s arm, but she quickly brushes it off. The group moves along with the tour, “so we are going to show you the practice rooms where our artists spend most of their time here. We actually might run into some of them.” Jiwon explains. As they move closer the music from room 1 was getting louder. “Let’s see who’s in this room.” Jiwon knocks before entering. Estrella sees five girls dancing, but quickly they stop and start bowing towards them. “Oh my god, it’s Estrella!” One of the members gasp covering her mouth.

“This is Le Sserafim one of our girl groups here.” Jiwon introduces Estrella. “Hi, I’m Estrella nice to meet you.” Estrella waves. “I’m Yunjin and I’m such a big fan.” Yunjin smiles brightly, trying to hold in her excitement. “You are? Thank you!” Estrella comes up to her to hug her which Yunjin starts freaking out. The Le Sserafim members laugh at Yunjin’s reaction. “This is the best day ever.” Yunjin fans her face. “Maybe you guys should show her your performance?” Jiwon suggests, the group immediately got into position. Estrella went back and stood next to Jungkook while sipping on her matcha latte. As they were performing ‘Antifragile’ Estrella whispers over to Jungkook, “you should show me your performance too.” Jungkook glances at Estrella who was watching Le Sserafim. “I’m recording for my solo album.” He answers, but he still wants to see her even after this so he had to shoot his shot. “Why don’t you come back over to my studio?” Jungkook is now fully looking at Estrella waiting for an answer, but also admiring her side profile. “Ok,” she shrugs. Estrella makes sure no one is watching them and fully paying attention to Le Sserafim. She gets closer to Jungkook, “but let’s be alone.”

‘Who knew the Korean language could sound much sweeter coming from Estrella’s mouth’ Jungkook thinks while getting dizzy off of Estrella’s flirting. Whoever was teaching her Korean Jungkook wanted to thank them personally because they are doing wonders. Estrella giggles at how Jungkook hasn’t responded, and how his ears have turned pink after her response. She knew she got him.

Estrella thank Le Sserafim for performing for her, they even took a few photos before the group leaving their practice room. “Actually if we move further down another group is practicing.” Jiwon led the group to another practice room. “This group is Jungkook’s junior group called Tomorrow x Together, and they are currently practicing for their tour that is coming up this week.” Hearing the familiar name Estrella knew exactly who’s on the other side of the door.

‘Yeonjun~’ Estrella sighs dreamily in her head. Jiwon again knocks before entering, and there was Yeonjun center dancing away with sweat dripping down. The second their eyes meet Yeonjun almost trips on his own feet. Estrella gives Yeonjun a shy small wave along with sending him a smile anyone would fall for. All the tiredness left his body and continued to give 100% for the rest of the song. Jungkook didn’t miss this interaction especially the switch from flirty to shy. ‘There’s someone else on her mind too’ Jungkook noted.

Soon after the group was done practicing they introduced themselves. The whole group grew shy around Estrella their staff even asked “what’s with the change of attitude?” Just a few minutes ago they were goofing around yelling, and now they’re hiding their ears while standing straight being quiet. “They’re cute~” Estrella wanted to tease them more, and the second she said that they broke character and started hiding their cheeks while looking away from her. The whole room erupts in laughter from the obviously shy boys.

After the room calms down Jiwon asked the members to introduce themselves which they gladly did. “Hello I’m Estrella.” Estrella waves at them also wanting to introduce herself. “Woah, they’re all so tall.” Estrella is amazed by their height compared to how tall she is. The members grew even more shy with her compliments instantly thanking her. “Estrella-ssi should stand next to you guys to see how far she can reach.” Jiwon suggests. “Oh, ok.” Estrella left Jungkook’s side he almost wanted to grab her hand to hold her back, but he knows he couldn’t. Which hurts even more.

In comparison Estrella is 5’5 so imagine her next to a 6’ foot man, and she has little heels on which don’t give her much. “Oh my god.” She covers her mouth, as she looks up at Soobin who was also surprise by their height difference. “Let’s compare hand sizes!” Yeonjun immediately cuts into their little moment. “Your hands are tiny~” he teases her, earning him a little push from Estrella.

Why was Jungkook feeling a bit insecure/jealous with 6’ foot men surrounding Estrella and touching her. He has to shake those thoughts out of his head remembering that he was going to have Estrella to himself during their studio session. He just has to be patient for now.

“Um, before you leave we wanted to ask you if you will like to come to our opening concert?” Kai cutely asks. “Really?!” Estrella looks at Megan almost like a little kid asking for permission. “Just send the info and we’ll see.” Megan nods. Estrella returns to her professional self and thanks txt for the invite along with saying her ‘byes’, as the groups moves on to different areas of the building again. Jungkook was happy to have Estrella’s attention back on him, he even started questioning himself about how fast he basically caught feelings for Estrella. Even though they just met each other.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

The tour finally came to an end and it was time to officially say ‘goodbye’. “I had lots of fun today along with meeting Jungkook,” she hugs his arm again making him start beaming. “And Jiwon who was a great translator and teacher.” Estrella hugs Jiwon fully. “I also want to thank Hybe for having me, thank you~” she waves at the camera before they shut it off. Estrella once again says thanks for everyone before facing Jungkook. “Here,” Estrella hands Jungkook a little napkin with black ink on it. “It’s my number. Text me.” She smirks and walks away to her team, leaving him flustered mess.

Even though Estrella was trying to be sneaky about it someone was watching from afar. “I guess I have competition.” Yeonjun snickers.

taglist»-♡→ @iveivory @jjkluver7 @lively-potter @angie-x3

#yeonjun x oc #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #txt yeonjun #jungkook x oc #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook

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