#i haven’t hung out with a group of people where I got along with them all since the summer after graduating high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucidmagic · 2 years

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Alright, here’s the scrapped Alcina x Werewolf!Reader (F) story I originally planned to write (note: I wrote this before re8 was released so that’s why somethings don’t add up in canon, notably Heisenberg being a werewolf, because that’s what was rumored before the game dropped). Hopefully, I’ll be revising this after I finish Phyto’s Guide, since I have a more concrete grasp on the plot, lore, and characterization. No stealing please :)

Words: 8.3k (yeah I know, I got through a lot)

Trigger Warnings: Mentions/implications of domestic abuse, mentions/implications of toxic/abusive family, mentions of murder, torture, and blood, alcohol consumption, canon typical allusions to violence

Something about the village unsettled you.

Fog hung in the air like a miasma of dread and, coupled with a despondent looks in the eyes of the older villagers, this place could easy be described as gloomy. Cobble stones lined the streets in uneven patterns centuries old and the quaint homes were likely just so judging by the narrow alleys and organic layout of the town.

But modernity was sporadically visible at times. Parked cars occasionally came into view, their compact nature and rust holes detailing their age. Electrical lines hung as vines along the buildings and poles, often grouped up into one location that certainly wasn’t up to code. Radio channels pitched into the silence with crackling national or regional updates—maybe even a football game.

The village was dismal compared to the bigger cities you passed through. Traditional. Rural. Isolated.

(Perfect.)

The growl of your motorcycle between your thighs echoed along the aged bricks, perking up heads and gaining glares of the locals. So far, you haven’t seen a similar vehicle like yours and you briefly wonder if this is the first time any of them ever heard or laid eyes on one. You can’t say for certain that was the case with some of the younger generations, but the older people scrunched up their faces and mimicked spitting on the ground as if to ward off a demon.

(Your grip on the handles tightens as an older woman cursed at you and hissed out an insult. Her breath smelt of harsh alcohol and tobacco, a nauseating combination. You don’t miss how her heart quakes against the reverberation of your bike.)

Tells of beasts and monsters saturated any and all questions you asked about this village from the previous. Mysterious murders. Strange disappearances. The typical ghost stories of remote settlements that permeate still with folklore and tradition.

(Good, you thought when you heard. You’ll fit right in.)

Chilled air escaped your nose as you spotted your destination. The Ranger’s Respite. The only inn here that you could gather from a quick google search and the previous innkeeper from two towns back. It was barely three stories high with faded burnt orange paint and plaster with sloping shingled roof that needed repair years ago. It’ll have to do for now.

You navigated your bike to the side of the road and parked. The rumbling of the engine ceased as you turned the key and the sounds of the village filled the emptiness left in its wake. Corvids cawed in the distance. Wind whistled and chimes rang in its wake. People shuffled along the cobble sidewalk muttering about the brisk breeze. Children a block down not so subtly whispered around small hands and pointed in your direction.

Shaking your hair out from your helmet, you felt several pairs of eyes on you already. There was an older man in a chair who nibbled on a pipe, a middle-aged woman pinning cloths along a line, and a group of dark-haired children clustered together. You sighed and entered the inn, trying not to glare. You were the stranger in this place. It’s only natural for them to be curious and cautious.

The inn was what you expected. Wooden tables and chairs, sparse occupants in far corners, and a box television above the counters where a man eyed you from behind. Decades of cigar smoke and sweat pervaded the air. You just resisted screwing up your face.

“Are there any rooms available?” You asked, gaze landing on the bartender. He nodded and told the rate. His gaze was guarded, eyes dark with suspicion. Your Romanian was passible, definitely enough to sustain a conversation, but it was clear you were a foreigner by the accent. “I’ll take one for two weeks. For now.”

He raised a bushy brow but accepted the jingle of lei you produced from your leather jacket. “Planning on staying that long?”

“In the least.” You looked around the place. The back shelves of the bar were filled with more local brands than ones you recognized. A pair of men were playing cards in the corner, but you noticed their frequent glances in your direction. The waitress, around your age, was wiping down a table not too far from you. Something roasted in the back kitchen and the smell sent a pang of hunger to your stomach. You slide into a stool and looked to the chalk scrawled menu. “I’ll take your special, please.”

Mustering up a smile, you gave your best nonthreatening face to the waitress, who flushed when you met her eyes and scurried away into the back room where the roast was.

(Oh no, did you scare her? That definitely was not the intention. You just wanted food. It’s been half a day since your last meal.

Shit, did you offend her? You read somewhere that some cultures don’t smile for no reason and it can be perceived as strange to do to without prompting.)

You turn back to the bartender. He’s a middle-aged man, broad shouldered, with an unshaved face that wasn’t quite a beard yet. He picked up a glass, inspected it, and placed it down before you. “Do you have a preference, doamna?”

Shrugging, nothing on the back wall caught your attention. “Perhaps some ţuică?”

He seemed to appreciate that choice and nodded as he prepared your drink.

(It seems your harried and quick research into Romanian cuisine was paying off for something. At least, for the alcohol.)

“If you don’t mind me asking, doamna,” the bartender placed a filled glass before you. You took it and silently cheered to him before taking a sip. The taste was sharp but sweet—still hints of plum despite it being distilled. “We don’t normally get wanderers here, so it is . . . odd to see a foreigner. . . why is that?”

(It took all of your self-control not to shatter the glass in your hand. Dangerously close though. Your jaw clenched and your back tensed.)

“Travelling,” you replied, smooth and quick. “Looking for work if you have any.”

“Work?” He almost sounded surprised by that. Glancing at the drawer where he placed your dues earlier, you can guess he didn’t fully believe that. But it was true.

(Mostly.)

“Yes,” you smiled, easing the conversation back to your control. “Been travelling so long my funds are getting low. Need something sustain myself.”

The bartender hummed and at that moment the barmaid came out from the back room, savory smells and spices wafted out that commanded your stomach to growl. Mouth watering with anticipation, you turned to the woman, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She flustered again and moved to set out some utensils. “Will that be all?” Her voice was soft, meek almost.

You shook your head and cut a large piece of lamb and began eating. You nearly moaned and the rumbling from your stomach quenched.

“Tyne, do you or any of the girls know of any jobs available?” The bartender turned away to busy himself with something behind the bar.

The young woman—Tyne—paused to think but ultimately shook her head “No, papa. None that I can think of.”

You swallowed. Your mother taught you that much about manners, “I’ll be open to anything—honestly… Even more masculine jobs.” You added the last part as an afterthought. Rural Romania tended to be gender labor divided, yet that didn’t stop you before with previous bucolic towns. Often you outdid the other men in their labor, much to their chagrin.

The bartender pursed his lips at that. He hummed for a moment. “I think I can ask around the town. Working men often come in here after a long day. Maybe they could know something.”

You gave him a smile, genuine this time. Shoulders relaxed and optimistic, you continued to eat with earnest.

(Lay low for a few weeks here. Get some money to pad your pockets. Rinse and repeat. At this point you’re practically a master of selling your labor, keeping out of the way, and leaving without anyone being the wiser. Been that way for months.

When it will end is still a mystery though.)

“Where are you from?” The shy question came from Tyne. She was cute, you admit, turning to her. Dark hair, big round eyes. She was slim, perhaps bony by some standards.

(You noticed how she favored her left side despite her being right-handed and how her foundation was slightly too think on one side of her face. Trying not to stare, your nostrils flared at the antiseptic lingering on her, something you didn’t notice before, masked by the spices before you.

It’s long past your time to be righteous with your history but there are a few things in this world you consider diabolical—even by your standards. It’s a short list that you will never cross.)

“All over, mostly,” answering, you smiled at her. Tyne returned it, tentatively. “Never settled down enough to call a place home.” You changed the subject expertly with, “Did you grow up here?”

“Yes, my whole life. Papa too. Our family has been here since we opened the inn.” A certain pride emanated from her and it is almost a stark contrast to her earlier demeaner. “Papa is planning on retiring in the next few years and I’ll take up the inn from him.”

The barkeep laughed, “You’re saying that like I’m already there. You know I still have about—”

A sudden noise from outside cut him off. A loud curt breying and the staccato clomps of hoofs passed by. The blurry glass of the windows obscured the dark maned horses but it is clear they pulled a large carriage of some sort, bigger than anything you’ve seen. Clattering of hooves and huffing of beasts meandered along, eclipsing the last remnants of sun that leaked from the glass.

The inn went silent. Dead silent. The men in the corner seized up, cards halfway to the table in the middle of a round. The barkeep tensed behind the bar, going stock still. Tyne inhaled a breath and didn’t let it out. Her body shook as if a sudden breeze hit her.

(All of their hearts raced. Picking up speed like they just heard a gunshot. You can practically smell apprehension wafting from them.)

The shadows of the horses and carriage slowly inched across the plane of glass and for a brief moment the whole of the light was snuffed out. As if night abruptly descended upon them.

But, seconds passed and light began filtering back in like the end of a cloud going by the sun.

Everyone breathed in a collective breath. Then, released it as if they just let loose a good drag of a cigarette.

“Tyne,” the barkeeper voice broke the spell of silence—a plate shattering against the ground more like. “Why don’t show our customer to her room? Let her get acquainted. I bet it’s been a long day.” When Tyne didn’t move, he cleared his throat. “Tyne, show her to her room.” His voice was hard.

She jumped, startled, and turned to you, an uneasy look in her eyes.

(You’re first instinct was to demand to know what the fuck just happened. Yet, the way she is looking at you—like a wounded pup—makes you bite your tongue.

It’s your first day here. You can press for answers later on. Leaving stones left unturned never sat right and you doubt Tyne will be difficult to quell your curiosity.)

She gestures for you to follow as her father hands her an old iron key that looks too simple for a decent lock. Then again, you have hardly any worthwhile possessions on you other than a few thousand in lei, the clothes on your back, and your Ducati cruiser out front.

You trail after Tyne, casting one last glance to the blurred glass and the streaks of light filtering in. A feeling begins to rise in you that you haven’t felt in months, bold, aggressive, and hot. Anticipation.

This village is not what it seems.

XxxXxxX

Dorin—the barkeep—upholds his word to ask around about jobs with the various patrons of his establishment. And it is because of him you manage to find a menial job as a laborer for the local construction crew. You make sure to tip him well when you return from your first day, sweaty despite the nip in the air with aching shoulders. The men working with you were skeptical and snide to you joining the team, but once you threw several sacks of cement mix over your shoulder and tossed it easily on the truck from the depot, they soon quieted down.

(Well, quieted down when they though you weren’t listening. They were rather vocal about your figure—how they… liked it. The exact words made you snarl to yourself.)

Four days passed since arriving in the village. One day of asking around for under the counter jobs. Three days of labor thanks to Dorin. You get up, prepare for the day, eat lunch at the highest point of the sun, resumed working, and got back to the inn just before sundown. Wash rinse, repeat. It was a simple routine. Nothing particularly intense and you liked it like that. The work allows your mind to wander and plan out your next move.

(Continuing east could lead you to the bigger cities. More people. Less individuals to notice a stranger. But more people to possibly avoid. You know your parents are well connected particularly to the south, so that area is off limits.

Ugh. It’s more difficult to disappear than you realized. You underestimated their reach.

Then again, they underestimated your determination to stay true to yourself. So, you suppose the three of you are even.

The only regret you have is not seeing their faces when the realization hit. The picture itself would have been worth this whole trouble.)

Repetition also allowed you to eavesdrop on the local gossip and history without the locals knowing. You’ve learned some things.

The village is ancient. Settled before it was officially put on maps and ledgers in the Middle Ages. Some of the original pedigree continues in the various families. Dorin and Tyne’s family in particular have one of the oldest, continuously occupied buildings in the area. But it didn’t hold the title.

That would go to the leering castle perched on the mountain side. Steeples, gates, and moats. From what you can see from your perch on the edge of one of the roofs you’re helping thatch, it’s reminiscent of the early Renaissance period with turrets and battlements—all surrounded by thick plumes of fog and piercing towers.

It’s ominous to say the least, but you can appreciate the aesthetic.

Apparently, it changed hands many times since the Moldavian and Wallachian wars against outside influence yet eventually found owners in the hands of the Dimitrescu family. According to the workers and a quick google search on your burner, the noble house still holds major sway over the people of the village like it still partakes in the feudal system of previous centuries. You’ve learned the region as a whole was evidently like that with other houses of the Moreau, Beneviento, and Heisenberg still having extensive influence in local politics and culture.

(The way the men spoke of the family—consisting of four women, a mother and her three daughters—they spat out their names in whispers like a curse and signed a holy symbol after mentioning them.

Interesting.

There was also a man in the picture, a Heisenberg. What you could gather he and the mother were adopted siblings. So are the other Lords of the village. United under a mysterious person called Mother Miranda.

Many of the men hissed his name similarly to the women’s.

You tried once to ask why the workers hated them so, but they only glared and turned away.)

Unfortunately, you also learned of Tyne’s husband.

He came in one time when you were leaving for the morning, Tyne handing you a pre-made lunch so you didn’t have to waste time looking for food on your break.

He—Omor his name was—smelt of tobacco and cheap cologne. Tyne smiled at him when he entered the inn, however, it was evident that she didn’t expect him and the briefest flash of what you can describe as fear appeared in her gaze.

Tyne’s husband gave you a once over when he spotted you thanking her—his eyes glinted with possession, his fingers gripped his hat in his hands, and he gave you tight smile. He had pot marks on his cheeks from ache but he could be described as handsome if it weren’t for his thinning hair and constant furrow between his brow.

He introduced himself and stuck out his hand. The grip was tight like he was wringing a neck. It would have hurt if you were any other person. Canines nearly pierced your tongue attempting to stop your snarl. Instead, you returned his grip two-fold, making sure to catch his eye and letting him know it was you.

(It didn’t matter though. Tyne had her sleeves rolled down that afternoon when you returned, not up to her elbows like when you first saw her.)

You exhaled, setting your lunch down to not crush it between your fingers. Legs swinging freely off the side of the roof, you closed your eyes and gritted your teeth.

(You’re a hypocrite. You’ve killed without mercy. Enjoyed it a good portion of the time. But, there are certain things you can’t excuse.

A skewed sense of morals? Yes. But morals nonetheless.)

The worse part is it seems no one noticed. Not her father. Her patrons. Even some of the friendly locals she can be seen talking to on errands. Only you. Tyne was good at cleaning up afterwards and her typical demeaner aids in that regard. Meek, soft-spoken, forgettable. Why you of all people are so concerned is the real irony.

You sigh.

(Doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone in a few weeks. She and you will be nothing more than hazy memories in each other’s minds.)

Finishing up lunch, you stand, brush off your hands on your jeans, and turn to—

You freeze.

Leather. Old cologne. Aged wood. Musk.

You smell him before you see him. It’s unmistakable. That smell. You’ve known it your whole life. Accompanied by thinly veiled lies, disingenuous smiles hiding fangs, controlling hands, and razor-sharp claws. It wasn’t until you left that you realize how strong it truly was.

Deep. Heady. Thick in the air like a pall.

Your body moves without your permission. You scream in your head to stop but your legs disobey. You don’t need this. You’ve done so much to get away. It can’t end like this.

First thing you notice is that he’s midway up climbing into the driver’s seat of a massive carriage. Old cherry wood engraved with silverly filigree that’s chipping along the sides. Two dark horses brey before it, coils of mist rising from their nostrils.

One of his feet is on the step up but he stills, other leg positioned to push up from the ground.

There’s a moment where things go silent around you—a feat in itself with your hearing. Everything fades—in anticipation or fear you don’t want to know either way.

Then he turns and lifts his head up.

You should laugh at his outfit—a dusty leather hat with frayed edges, long black trench coat, oil-stained shirt and trousers, and round sunglasses perched on his nose. His hair used to be black, but it is more streaked with grey than its original color. His face is rugged and slashed with scars, unshaven in a messy full beard.

All you can see of his eyes are the black circles of his glasses however he’s unmistakably staring right back at you. His lips part and his brows arch up. Clearly he wasn’t expecting you either.

A moment.

Another.

Several seconds pass.

(It feels like an eternity since you’ve seen another of your kind. By the way he’s staring at you—it may be the same for him.)

You don’t know why you do it. Maybe it’s the shock of finding another werewolf this far outside of civilization, outside of typical pack territories. Or maybe it’s the unspoken comradery of the same monstrous nature.

You give him a recognizing nod.

It takes him a second. His thin lips quirk up and he raises one of his hands to the brim of his hat. In response, he nods back.

A greeting. An acknowledgment.

(A truce.)

He tilts his head the side, eyes glancing over to the carriage, attention gone. His mouth replies to something but the blood rushing through your ears deafens you. You vaguely know that a voice is heard but other than that you can’t make out what is said.

(You think it may be feminine, but you can’t be sure.)

The man gives you one last glance, smiles, and pulls himself up to the carriage.

You watch as the vehicle trots off into the thick forests surrounding the castle’s hill.

When the carriage can no longer be seen, you recognize the pain in your chest from holding your breath.

You exhale.

This village just got more interesting.

XxxXxxX

The man you recognize as kin begins to come around the village more often. At least, you notice him more often now that you know of his existence.

Every time, you give him a quiet nod. He gives one back.

That’s the extent of your interaction. It’s simple. Clean. Easy.

(Part of you wants to introduce yourself properly, perhaps get his name as well. Form some sort of rapport with a fellow werewolf. You are invading on his territory after all. It’s only appropriate.

Another part of you—the very much human side—is fucking terrified. You’re escaping from your kind. You do not need to befriend one. What if he knows who your family is. What if he knows what you did and why you are here. Selling the information is quick, he can simply make a phone call if he’s connected well enough.)

Until today.

It has been four more days since you first greeted the man, and his presence quickly became a feature in your routine. Get up. Get ready. Head off to the construction site. Eat lunch. Continue to work. Go back to the inn. And somewhere along the way he emerges—sometimes on foot, sometimes on the driver’s seat of the massive carriage. He nods or you nod first. The other replies out of respect.

It’s simple and singular.

But not today.

You just finished a day of slugging cement mix over your shoulder and nailing shingles to a roof. Your shoulders ache in a productive way, and the satisfying burn gives you a sense of pride.

Freshly washed, you descend the stairs to eat a well-deserved dinner to a quiet tavern—

Quiet.

It’s never quiet this time of night. There is usually a rowdy bunch of drunken work men or older card players rousing the night.

The silence is deafening.

You round the banister of the stairs and meet the eyes of the other werewolf in this town.

(Huh.

You thought he’d be taller up close.

That was the first thought in your mind. The second was if he ever takes off those stupid looking glasses.

The third was fuck.)

He gives you a small salute with a shot glass of dark liquor and then throws it back in a quick gulp. He licks his lips and smiles.

“Ah, a newcomer. Rare in these parts.” His voice is low and course with a strange accent to his words and you briefly wonder if he’s native to this region. His smile is surprisingly nice, his teeth are straight and white. You don’t know why that takes you back more so than him acknowledging you.

“Come!” He large coat swooshes behind him as he opens his arms invitingly to the stool next to him. “Have a drink. This place doesn’t get too many visitors. I’m curious.”

You curse at yourself for not sniffing him out sooner. Damn Tyne’s divine cooking thick in the air.

A quick glance at Dorin told you that he would be no help as he shifted from one foot to another avoiding the man’s gaze. His daughter was nowhere to be seen.

Inhaling and bracing yourself, you situated yourself next to the werewolf. Dorin looks to you, eyebrow raised.

“I’ll take what he’s having.”

As Dorin nods, the other werewolf barks out a laugh. “Ah, an outsider and a foreigner. Even rarer.” He motions for the barkeeper to tend to his drink. Pitching his voice low, continues with, “Tell me . . . what brings the like of you to our humble village.”

The like of you. He’s not referencing your locality.

You give a grateful nod to Dorin as he places a glass before you and fills it, giving you time to compose yourself. Being vulnerable and cornered after a long day of work settles in your stomach like a jar of bees. Twitchy, buzzing, unstable.

Throwing back the dark liquid—sharp and spicy, whiskey, good by the smoky after taste—you half turn to the man. “Passing through, need money to continue on.”

The man hums and slips on his shot that was refilled by Dorin. “And how long will that be?”

“About a week more—perhaps shorter if you need me to move on.” You eye him, gauging his reaction.

(If this is a pissing contest, then he has the home advantage. You’re the lone wolf encroaching. The least you need at the moment is to fight for unnecessary territory.)

He stares for a moment, gaze obscured by his dark glasses. A moment passes. And then his smile widens, brilliantly.

“That won’t be necessary.”

The shock must have been evident on your face as the man slaps you on the back—hard and abrupt. You let out a sudden gasp at the action.

(Breathe. Breathe. It was friendly. At least it wasn’t with claws and disdain.

. . . It was nice. If sudden.

May you can get used to this type of affection—

No. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You don’t know this man. He’s a stranger. You need to know his angle first.)

If the man noticed your reaction, he didn’t show it. “You got a name, stranger?”

A second passes before you relinquish your name. Your gaze is hard as he listens—watching for any reaction to your surname. Anything that indicates he knows who you are. Instead, his face is a neutral, amusement in his eyes, and he tilts his head.

He hums. “Heisenberg.”

“What?”

“My name, little pup.” He gives a knowing grin . . . It’s pleasant. Warm. You try to remember an easy smile like that from before but the memory is so hazy it could be deemed nonexistent. “My name is Karl Heisenberg.”

It is then that it clicks. The silence. The stares. The unease in the tavern.

He’s the Heisenberg everyone speaks so darkly of. How they whisper his and the Dimitrescu’s name like a curse.

Is it because he’s like you? Would they react similar if they found out you’re the same? Would Dorin scowl at you when you turn your back on him? Would Tyne tremble as you greet her?

(Is he as lonely as you are?)

You raise your glass to him, and a bewildered look crosses his face. But he still follows suite and clanks his glass to yours. A strong ring resounds around tables.

“To names.” You speak, a small smile crossing your face.

Heisenberg barks a laugh. “To Family!”

The two werewolves continued to chat away. Much to the tavern goer’s dismay.

XxxXxxX

Heisenberg and you start a tentative companionship since that evening. You’d continue your time laboring for the local builders, pocketing the money of the day, but with the added routine of Heisenberg joining you for a quick drink in the corner of the tavern, absconded from prying eyes and ears. Most of the time he was the one who did most of the talking, reminiscing about his stalwart sister, her chaotic daughters, quiet younger sister, ugly brother, and their demanding mother. Other times he would reveal tales of his youth and how he slaughtered a dozen or so hunters bent on slaying him. Or even telling you about his various horses, their personalities, and the apparent horse drama that is always brewing.

Tyne and Dorin give you suspicious looks every time you emerge from the corner when Heisenberg needs to get on with his duties. The father becomes more distant after the second night, glaring from the counter when the other werewolf sloshes some of his drink on the table. The daughter is still nice to you, thankfully, but she’s noticeably more reserved with her grins when Heisenberg chats with you.

The man is full of fire and smiles, and though he slaps you on the back at a good joke, you begin to expect it more and more, stopping yourself from flinching too often.

You haven’t smiled or laughed that much since you ran.

It’s nice.

(You could be friends, a part of you pleas. Start anew here. Build something close to a confidant.

Fool, you equally warn. You hardly know this man. He could be playing the long game—gaining trust before finally baring his fangs and going for the throat.)

“Think you would like them.” Heisenberg says one night. His face is flush from several fingers of whiskey. His glasses are askew, one pale grey eye glinting from behind.

“Oh?” You respond, nursing your drink.

He hums, pursing his lips. “Dani would warm up to you quickly—she’s the most sociable if a bit . . . much at times. Cass is a spitfire so she may play with you in the beginning . . . Bela takes after her mother so she’ll be hesitant but gain her trust and she’ll burn down the world for you.”

You snort. “Why does it sound like you’re trying to set me up?”

Heisenberg holds up his hands. “Listen I’m just saying. There’s an opening for the groundskeeper, since the last one was gutted.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “Oh? That doesn’t sound like a great job security. Sorry, I don’t want my blood to be the new stain for the hardwood floors if I miss a patch of grass.”

“Come on!” He pouts. “You’ll love it! Live in a castle on a mountain. Free to work on projects. Meals and board. Surrounded by beautiful women. Even if you count my over-sized sister.”

You almost lose your eyes rolling them so hard. “I’m regretting coming out to you now.”

He huffs and takes a drink. “I’m just saying. It’s a good position. Think on it. I can’t be there to repair the old place—I have my factory to look after. You got a good mind and a set of strong hands. Alcina will appreciate the help. She’s too dainty for the harder labor stuff.”

The alcohol burns your throat as you take a sip instead of answering.

(It does sound good. Enough work to keep you busy. Protected. Isolated. What more could you want?)

Sighing, you turn to him. “Listen, the offer’s great, but I need to move on. It’s not safe to stay in one place for too long. I’ll only get you and your family hurt.”

“Hey,” Heisenberg places a rough hand on your shoulder. It’s strong, stable, warm. You can almost imagine it to be brotherly or even fatherly if you let your mind slip in that direction. You resist shrugging that thought and his hand away. “Don’t underestimate the family. We’re tougher than you think—tougher than whatever you’re running from.”

You haven’t told him much about your past. Only the essentials—a werewolf on the run from your former pack. From your hesitance and tone, you can gather he picked up the direness in your gaze. Not evening knowing the details, he offered the position almost immediately. You always refuse when he brings it up.

“Well,” you say. “It’s not my or your castle, so I have to hear it from the Lady herself. Don’t want her killing me for knocking on her door.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t do that . . . she’d bleed you dry first then kill you.”

You snort into your glass. It’s alluring to say the least. Multiple times you’ve found yourself on the edge of agreeing but . . . it’s a risk to settle too soon. Last thing you want is collateral, especially to someone who has only shown you trust and thoughtfulness.

“Let me think on it. It’s a lot to change so suddenly.” You give him a smile.

He returns it. “No pressure. Only want what’s best for you.”

(What’s best for you. . .

Those words—simple words really, but words you haven’t heard before. Not from your mother. Father. Brother. They didn’t care so long as they got something out of it, even if it was the worst for you.

That’s why you had to take what’s best for you. Wrangle it away from another, claw at it, tear open a hole for only you. Damn them all, you thought. Damn them all to the darkest, deepest hell for making you choose. Between them and happiness. Between duty and being true. They forced your hand and have the audacity to be shocked when you bit back.)

You shallowed, a lump stuck somewhere in your throat.

(You choose happiness once before.)

“Thank you.”

“No problem, little pup.”

(Maybe you can choose it again.)

XxxXxxX

Tyne stares at you, mouth open, eyes wide, face pale. In one hand, she braces herself against the bathroom sink of the tavern, grip white. The other is covered in foundation, half applied on her left cheek where a blooming bruise is forming.

Omor’s handiwork.

She just stares back in the mirror, caught. You can see her hands shake.

You can only stare back.

The door wasn’t closed all the way so you thought it was open for use. But instead, you’ve caught her in the act of cleaning up her husband’s mess.

A moment passes.

Another.

She doesn’t move under your scrutiny.

After another second, you straighten. Stepping in, you shut the door fully and move the hinge to lock it in place. Tyne lowers her hand covered in foundation as if ashamed. Her head follows.

“Don’t tell, papa. He’ll kill him, in broad daylight if he found out. I can’t lose both of them because of me. I can’t.” She doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on something more interesting in the sink.

“Omor . . . he has too much power in the village. His family is one of the wealthiest, one of the first to settle here. Papa was so happy when the wedding happened—So was Mama. I was sort of pushed into it because—it was security so I wouldn’t. . .” She’s rambling. Rambling on and on, as if she can somehow convince you it was someone else’s fault, her fault even. It sickens you.

A step, another step. You cross the bathroom in a couple of strides so you’re next to Tyne in under a second.

She doesn’t notice the tears dropping to the sink below. Or the sobs heaving her chest. But you do.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done this here. It’s just there was no time before opening this morning and—”

“Tyne.”

Voice gentle, but sudden and it breaks off her spiraling words. She looks up then. Not in the mirror but she turns to you fully. It’s slow as if you’re a snake and she’s trying to creep by without disturbing you.

You reach around her in the tiny bathroom, careful to choreograph your every movement so she doesn’t recoil. Slow but deliberate, you grasp the pallet and the cream from the counter. You bring it to your front. Tyne continues to just stare, tears drying on her cheeks.

You unscrew the cap to the cream and squeeze some on your fingers. Cautiously, you bring your hand up, telegraphing ever move, each muscle. Letting her know she can trust you.

(You see her throat work to gulp and the perspiration builds on her top lip. Tyne’s heart races as you step half a stride to her.)

As gently as you can muster, you spread the cream across her cheek, over the growing discoloration, over the trails of tears left behind. She sucks in a breath and stills.

It’s at this distance you can see a splattering of freckles across her nose with some across her forehead. Her eyes are a deep brown, like her father’s. One of her incisors is slightly crooked. She’s still pretty, but you can see the wear of months of work and abuse in the way her heart continues to pick up every time you fingers spread the cream across her cheek. There are bags under her big eyes and slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyelids despite being the same age as you.

Her sudden flinch makes you stop.

(Of course, you hurt her. That’s the only thing you’re good at.)

“Sorry,” You quickly say. “I have laborer’s hands.”

“It’s okay,” Tyne breathes. “It’s still sore.”

(It takes all of your self-control not you sprint out of there, follow Omor’s cheap cologne, and rip out his throat, and watch him gurgle on his blood. It’s the least he deserves.)

“Do you want him gone?”

Tyne stills. “W-what?”

“I said,” voice firm, you place the cream tube back and keep your gaze on hers. “Do you want your husband gone?”

She just stares at you, mind catching up to what you said.

“I can’t—Papa won’t ever—”

“You have more than your father who cares.”

It is then Tyne realizes the extent of your question. Her eyes go wide and her mouth tries to form words but can only move.

“I—I—”

“You don’t have to answer now.” You take a step back and it seems she exhales as you do. “But you do need an answer. Because it will affect what I do from now on.”

Speechless, she stands there. Eyes and body unmoving. Face covered as best as you could do given the rage flowing through your veins.

It is at that you turn, stepping to the door, unlock it, and turn the knob.

“Yes.”

Tyne’s voice makes you stop. You catch her eyes over your shoulder and it is perhaps the first time you don’t see fear in them. Resolute. Unwavering. No sign of the earlier woman.

With one last second, you nod, open the door, and leave.

XxxXxxX

Three days pass since the bathroom incident. Three days of broiling rage in your heart and bloodlust filling your mind—the only thing you can really concentrate on. Your labor doesn’t faulter but the men around you notice the intensity of your gaze and they keep their comments to themselves.

You added an extra two weeks to your tenure at the inn much to Dorin’s surprise, but he gladly took the money and the extended friendship to his daughter. Tyne continued to talk to you, almost like nothing had drastically changed between the both of you and she didn’t give the okay to kill her husband. Still, there was a heaviness now to your interactions, like any moment the other shoe would drop and she would rescind her approval.

But it never came.

So, you bide your time in the village. Working hard during the day, drinking with Heisenberg during the evening, and contemplating how you’re going to rip out Omor’s throat.

(Personally, you’re leaning to your bare hands so you don’t miss the way the light from his eyes dim.)

If the other werewolf noticed the change in your demeanor, he chose not to mention it, instead focusing on the topic of his new mechanical project which you listened to with half an ear.

“But I learned that if you create cage around the power plug with a polymer-steel blend—”

“Here is your ţuică,” Tyne interrupted, setting down your drink as your previous dwindled down to only a sip. “Is there anything else you need?” She gave Heisenberg a small smile. Slowly, she’s been warming up to him, even if it was miniscule, no longing flinching when his gaze landed on her.

“If you get another finger of whiskey that would be delightful, darling.” Heisenberg gave his best white grin and winked. Tyne had a good enough sense to only roll her eyes and give a slight shake of her head. His words were already slurring and he still needed to ride back to his factory.

“How about good stew and water, Lord Heisenberg?”

He pouted like a child not given his fourth cookie of the night but nodded all the same. No one can deny Tyne’s skill in the kitchen even if it was at the expense of alcohol.

You couldn’t help but snort, taking a sip from the new glass before you. Tyne caught your gaze and turned in your direction.

“Have any plans for the weekend?” She asked.

You hummed, “Not particularly. Probably just going to ask for overtime or get my muscles a break from slinging cement.” There was glint in her eyes. Intent, focused. “Do you have any plans?”

“Oh no,” she started, waving a dismissive hand. Her acting was good to others but her flickering look gave her away to you. “Just staying in the house. Omor is going hunting with a few childhood friends of his. One of them has a cabin a dozen or so kilometers in the forest. Just going to be a quiet few days.”

You hummed. “Well, I hope he has fun.” It was a monotone comment, almost reflexive.

A few more pleasantries were passed before another inn-goer waved for Tyne. She gave a farewell and left.

Sitting back in the booth, you took a long simmering sip of your drink and saw Heisenberg shift besides you. He could smell blood on the wind.

“Fine time to go hunting in these parts.” He began, lowering his voice. “The deer are fleshly born and the foxes are out to mate. Good game.”

You keep silence but eyed him over the glass. His lips twitched.

“But wolves are also aplenty and looking forward to eating too. Could be dangerous.”

“Are attacks common?” His gaze locked onto yours and a second passed.

Heisenberg gave a wide, blindly smile. It resembled more like a snarl. “They say monsters roam that part of the forest. Many men have gone missing.”

“How . . . unfortunate.”

(He knows when a hunt is on. The way his eyes glint and his almost wolfish smile widens. He’s eager. You faintly wonder how long since he’s had a proper pack to hunt with.)

Heisenberg leans ever so closer forward never breaking eye contact. “So, little pup. What are your plans for this weekend?”

XxxXxxX

One of the worst things about being a werewolf is the continuous need to remember where your spare set of clothes is. Yes, you and Heisenberg can return to the village like a band of nudist hippies but considering the utter lack of attraction on both ends and the shear embarrassment the two of you can avoid, well, it practically a no brainer.

You made sure to memorize the path to the two duffel bags a few kilometers east of the cabin Tyne told you about. Packed with weather appropriate clothes, snacks, water, and other supplies you’re certain that they will come in handy after the hunt.

(At first, Heisenberg thought it was overkill, yet you reminded him of how your kind typically is famished after a transformation if you don’t eat in your human form. You doubt the days after nursing a tumultuous stomach after devouring an unsuspecting deer will be worth it regardless. Especially since you’re going through this because of Omor.

It’s strange to think but eating a whole deer raw in your full-wolf form doesn’t translate over well and your people learned that human food directly after helps with digestion.)

The air held a chill and the wind coated your skin with a layer of rime. Trees, several feet across, stood proud and strong, had slender, spidery fingers reaching across the canopy. Detritus littered the ground in soft hills blanketed in a thin coating of sleet. It’s not quite winter, not yet. The seasons are on the edge of toppling over like an ill-balanced scale. Your lungs grew brittle as you sucked in a breath.

A thin sliver of the moon is only visible, on the cusp of a crescent. Stars occasionally peaked through the dark clouds of the black sky but most they were shrouded as if they were already mourning what was to come.

It was the perfect night of a hunt and you can’t wait for blood.

Since your escape from your pack, a proper transformation wasn’t in the cards as you stuck close to civilization to hide behind countless faces. Sure, there were half-shifts, where you bared your fangs and claws to unsuspecting nuisances to scare them away. But a full-shift . . . oh how your body is singing for it.

First comes the heat. Almost unbearable, to the point of pain. As if you suddenly came down with a fever in a matter of seconds. Your breath becomes ragged, shallow as you struggle for air as space around grows steadily hotter and hotter. Tendrils of steam curls around your figure, your smoldering body and the chill colliding. Your skin burns and burns and burns until there’s a sharp rip.

Next comes the pain. Your flesh breaks. Your muscles tear. Your skeleton shatters as it realigns to meet you desired form. Cracks, pops, and snaps fill the forest music. And soon your gasps and groans mingle with it, no longer possible to keep in. Somewhere in the distance you hear Heisenberg yelp accompanied by a loud sickening break—you can guess it was his facial bones jutting out.

Then the screaming. Not literally. At least not with you and Heisenberg. Some of your past packmates would scream as they transform. But this isn’t it. The scream is the only way you can describe the overflow of sensory stimuli entering your brain—the sights, the sounds, the smells. Everything is so loud when you fully change—a cacophony, a crescendo, utter chaos floods your body. It’s all too much.

And finally, the stillness. The heat, the pain, the screaming just stops. In a matter of seconds, it all ends. Your new form steps from where you stood, paws sinking into the forest floor, claws carving into the dirt. You are finally free.

A low grumble behind you makes you turn and you see Heisenberg emerge from the tree line. Half hunched but standing close to twice his normal size, his black fur is speckled with grey. His muzzle and face nearly white from this lighting. His body is long, more similar to a humanoid yet with a distinctive otherness that you can’t place. Strong digitigrade legs and humanoid arms capable of either walking or crawling, there are several scars crisscrossing his limbs from his years. Triangular ears pointed upward, long tail relaxed, he licks his jaws exposing long canines still perfectly white like in his human form. Piercing dark grey eyes take you in as well.

(His gaze travels down to your arms, legs, and torse, charting the deep gashes along your fur. Claw marks. Bite marks. Even bullet or blade wounds. For a moment his ears pin back as his eyes land on your muzzle where the scar typically across your face is deepened in this form, and a particularly nasty one on your shoulder in the distinctive dental arcade of your kind. Your pack wasn’t kind the way he is.)

Without a word you both take off in the direction of the cabin on all fours. Twigs and fallen branches barely have time to snap as you sprint, faster than a racing stallion. The breeze coursing through your fur is as if a deity is carting their fingers along the planes of your body.

You’ve never felt freer in that moment. The sliver of the moon over head, the forest singing in the wind, and Heisenberg right beside you, matching your pace.

But you have a mission to do.

Soon the two of you came upon a flickering light in the distance—yellows and oranges painting the trees. The sweet smoke of a campfire filled your senses—and alcohol, whiskey and bourbon, maybe some vodka. Laughter also bounced off the trucks of the trees, deep and slurred.

It was them. You slowed and Heisenberg followed your leave. Your plan was simple. Flank the men. Separate out Omor away from the rest and Heisenberg distract the others—maiming, but not killing and no turning. He seemed pleased with the plan, anticipating their screams and wails was enough for the other werewolf. Omor was yours and yours alone.

(When Heisenberg asked why him, you simply said one didn’t have to be a monster to be monstrous. He seemed to understand, eyes going hard when the pieces clicked in his mind. Heisenberg replied with, “I hope Tyne makes us the best fucking lamb after this.”)

You keep low to the ground, stalking to the edge of the clearing. Not a sound escaped from under your paw steps.

There were four men all sitting around a campfire. Bottles of liquor and discarded guns laid scattered around them. A few yards away a small one-story log cabin stood dark against the backdrop of the woods. . .

[End]

XxxXxxX

Yeah, so that’s about it that I had written before I began to simp for Donna hard and the game came out. Of course, no Alcina and Reader interaction from what I’ve written because I didn’t get that far.

Obviously, canon lore and this don’t align like it should and the Reader’s personality has been shifted slightly (more one-shot like) as well as Heisenberg’s characterization and non-werewolf-dom (though they’re still companions in other aspects, much to Alcina’s chagrin in the actual story).

Tyne’s story line is still the same, but her personality has shifted as well (less timid, more calculated now) because I plan on her becoming involved with one of the Dimitrescu Daughters once her husband is out of the picture and her get the love and care she deserves. Her and the Reader actually do become friends.

This will also be connected to my Donna x Reader story, same universe. Idk when this will actually be written, I have so much to do.

I hope you all liked it, despite it being unfinished.

Stay safe and healthy y’all!

#lucidmagic #ludicmagic writes #my fic #my fanfiction #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #re8 #phytoverse #re8 alcina dimitrescu #phyto's guide #resident evil village

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transboysokka · 3 months

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Please explain this crush situation, it sounds like good drama!

lmao I don’t think?? I’ve posted about it before but it’s not THAT interesting I promise

also SO sorry but Due To The Autusm I don’t know how NOT to make this a Long Story

let’s see…

so the thing about communities of expats/immigrants/foreigners is that there are ALWAYS people coming and going but for a while here I had a really tight group of friends I met through work and we did EVERYTHING together. We’ll call them J, N, and B. All around my age. J was a guy from Canada, N an American guy, and B a South African girl.

N, bless his soul, has always been the most OBVIOUSLY gay guy but has wayyyyy too much internalized homophobia to deal with it so compensated by being wayyyy too into women, you know? But also he had a collection of 300 perfumes and reviewed them on YouTube lol so

ANYway he was in one really weird relationship with some girl we never even got to meet for a while and then he met Z, who started hanging out with all of us. She was always so great and they were so cute together.

So eventually J (the coolest guy, we always watched hockey together) moved back to Canada and N and Z left to go work for the summer on a ranch in the US. The tentative plan was for N to stay there because he’d always been very vocal about hating Taiwan but Z was gonna kind of play it by ear. I figured they were gonna get married, they’d already been together a couple years and had a very strong relationship

Anyway idk what happened but the minute N stepped back on American soil, his inner asshole started to show. He just became this horrible annoying person I didn’t really want anything to do with, so I haven’t talked to him much since.

I kept in touch with Z who was having a terrible time with him. He all of a sudden broke up with her in a REALLY shitty way and she moved back here. Then he moved to like Bolivia or something idk.

So then Z, B, and I were still here. B is always busy or super depressed (no judgment) so I hardly ever see her, so Z and I started hanging out alone.

It was a LITTLE awkward at first bc I only ever hung out with her through N?? But actually we got along so great and hang out as much as we can now

That’s cool, that’s fine, but I started feeling this attraction to her and this chemistry between us that suggested it… could? be mutual?? Like there were definitely signals, especially the time we went through the haunted house together wow

We had a couple discussions that were like “okay so I guess we’re both technically pretty pansexual” so it would hypothetically work ((I DO strongly id as gay but my attitude is anything’s possible u know?))

A while after that I invited her to an open mic I was performing at and sang girl crush about her asfjljdzhk

Then we had a discussion where she was basically like “I don’t date friends” which is super fair but also we still weren’t talking about us specifically

Anyway that was several months ago and my feelings have def toned down since then (also her work schedule sucks so we don’t see each other that often) and like. idk I’ve done this once before about having a crush on someone I got in super well with and then missing my chance (that person ended up dating our other friend and they’ve been together like 5 years now rip) but this also isn’t something I’m super active or serious about right now????

#quesTian #tian talks

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loserchildhotpants · 1 year

Text

several times in my life - several, as in more than three times - i’ve had it happen that i’ll bend over backwards for a friend, or multiple friends at once, and i go above and beyond the call of duty as far as friendship goes and then when my utility runs out, or i need something in return (in the form of emotional support, i enforce a boundary or something), i am excommunicated.

that i go above and beyond without being asked is something i pride myself on and that sits well w my spirit, but i also know that it’s a reflection of some seriously deep abandonment issues. im self aware enough to know that i often do this to myself, and that, to a degree, i teach others how to treat me.

one of these instances, i was in high school, and i’d been sent away from my lunch table and my group of friends bc i hadn’t performed socially the way one of them wanted me to (one of them had introduced a bf to the group and we all hung out w him and when asked my opinion of him i was like ‘he seems nice :)’ and that was really all i had to say abt him bc he was a typical teenaged boy and honestly wasn’t even that nice i was just Being Polite and this was apparently so devastating to my friend that all the other friends rallied around her and decided to punish me for being so unkind bc ‘don’t [i] know how much [my] opinion means to her’ ??? so. i am exiled).

during my exile, i went to the art wing for lunch bc i literally had no one to eat or sit w and i may as well. we had sketchbooks we used for the entire school year, it’s where all our art assignments went (i was in an advanced art class and yes we had homework), and it was nearing the end of the school year, so mine was mostly full. i had one homework assignment i was gonna work on over that lunch period - i remember bc it was pointillism and it was coming along really nicely. i went to grab my sketchbook from my designated shelf, and found it was duct-taped shut and had slurs written in sharpie across the cover.

i panicked, tried to get it open without fucking use of fire or something that might compromise the ~8 months of work i had in there, and when i got it open, i found more of the same. all my works had been ruined w insults and slurs, and some of the drawings were just scribbled over boldly w sharpie to make them unusable.

i don’t have PROOF those girls did that to me, but the insults used and the handwriting was... telling.

so for the last 15 years, i haven’t let anyone touch my fucking sketchbooks or look at my artwork without explicit permission and without my constant oversight, and i’ve kept in mind that even people i would be ride or die for may not necessarily consider that trait valuable, and more than willing to cast me aside, they may be willing to hurt me if it makes them feel better.

i feel like i smell it in the air.

i had that sense of foreboding, the same kind i had before i pried my sketchbook open. and listen, maybe that’s the trauma and anxiety disorders talking! sure! but y’know, it’s not the only time that sort of shit has happened to me, 3 or more times, to me, speaks to a pattern. so maybe it’s anxiety, or maybe im seeing a pattern and i Know when something is abt to happen bc it’s happened multiple times before.

i do this thing where i’m like ‘i’ll work really, really hard, i’ll be available MOST of the time, i will extend my emotional bandwidth for you, i’ll help you when times are hard - when your marriage is falling apart, when you’re homeless, when your parent has died - i am ready and willing to do everything in my power to help you however much i can and surely this will make me a Good Friend, and if i am Good Friend, the person i am being a Good Friend to will be a Good Friend back to me.’

that’s not necessarily true, i guess. and nothing friendship-ending has happened (yet) but it’s like i feel it in the air. could it be trauma and anxiety informing that feeling? absolutely. ... but also, no one can discount that im batting 1000 as far as friendships failed, dead and gone now, especially the people i’ve broken my back for.

idk what the point of this is i just had to write out my thoughts i guess

#personal #melanie lives #long post #no one needs to or even should read this i guess idk #i needed to vent so im using tumblr as my void to shout into

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utterlyinevitable · 1 year

Text

(Further) Trials & Tribulations (5/?)

↳ series masterlist

A secret shared

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Bryce Lahela Rating: Mature Warnings: some kissin’ and touchin’ and consent Tropes: Bryce- Hurt/Comfort, Friends with Benefits

Summary: Are they dating? Are they fucking? Are they best friends? Are they something in between that? Well... they’re having a pizza date in the meantime.

________________

They started spending all their precious free time together casually and intimately. It was easy to be together. Bryce lived alone and there wasn’t any need to dodge her four roommates when they spent nights together. Becca truly found her comfort in someone else.

Though, they hadn’t slept together. Truly haven’t been that intimate with one another since well before last spring. It had been five weeks since He left, and three since Bryce kissed her in the park. Since he asked,

“You wanna…” trailing off with his hands on her hips swaying back and forth to the music that felt a whole other world away.

And she responded with a simple, “I’d like that.”

And it didn’t matter that they weren’t having sex. Bryce wasn’t going to force the issue, they’d go as slow as Becca wanted. He was just happy to be the one she wanted to spend time with.

And since that day in the park, Bryce Lahela promised to make an effort.

And so when he sidled up to her in the locker room one morning, a cheeky smile gracing his features, asking, “Do you want to do something later?”

Becca couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah. What’d you have in mind?”

Bryce had her choose between option A and option B. She chose B.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no? If you didn’t want this why’d you put it in the running?”

Really he should have saw that one coming.

“Wishful thinking,” Bryce shrugged with a signature smile. “It’s fine. We got this.”

“What exactly are we doing?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little face.” He squished her cheeks and swiftly pecked her on the nose. “See you at my place.”

To say Bryce was clueless in the kitchen would be an understatement. He grew up with support staff to take care of his every need. When he moved away there was always takeout or a food hall. He never had a need to learn to cook - that is until he began thinking of a future family. Now he’s simply out of his element.

Bryce planned for him and Becca to have a cozy night-in cooking dinner and watching movies. On the counter he set a spread - bowl ready for popcorn, two jars of tomato sauce, a plastic bag of dough he bought from the pizza place around the corner, along with various toppings.

Bryce opened the door to Becca in jeans and a v-neck tee instead of her trusty scrubs. He was surprised - whenever they hung out as a group she usually stayed in her scrubs. Her casual outfit meant she made an attempt. That this might just be something more than friends hanging out. He hoped.

“I brought vodka!” she wielded the bottle up over her shoulder as she stepped into the apartment she knows so well.

“Trying to get me wasted and have your way with me, Becks?” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re attempting pizza!”

“Attempting?”

“I have never - in my entire life - cooked pizza from scratch. But I got all the fixings!”

“This is going to be a disaster.”

“Have a little faith, Becks.”

“I’ll have a drink first.”

Becca began unscrewing the top but Bryce stole the bottle. Chuckling he made two of them decent drinks.

“So where do we start?” he asked once they’ve relaxed into his tiny kitchen, two sips down on their mixers.

Becca pointed to the wrapped ball on the counter, the edge of her glass tumbler resting against her bottom lip. “Roll out the dough.”

“I knew I chose the right accomplice.”

“It’s not very hard! Your hands may be made for slicing people open but my hands were made to feed me.”

They fell into a cute domestic routine. Bryce letting Becca mold the dough better than he could while he loads their two pies with toppings. More giggles flew around the kitchen space than shredded cheese fell to the floor.

While the pizzas cooked they sat on the couch and flicked through movies.

“Do we want comedy, action, romance?” he asked.

“That one looks good.”

She chose Deadpool - a little bit of everything. He didn’t think it was possible to like her even more than that moment there. Becca constantly surprised him.

They grabbed the now baked pizza and cuddled on the sofa. Once they were full up, Bryce freed her hair from the tight bun and was stroking her hair - letting the waves cascade over his fingers and massaging her scalp with his skilled fingers.

“Mmm,” she relished in the feeling, her shoulders slumping and body resting back towards him.

“You like that?”

“It’s so sooothing.”

He kissed her forehead and moved their positions to give her a shoulder massage.

“You know, if your license ever gets revoked you have a very promising career as a masseuse. Could make house calls and evv-rrything.”

They both bit their tongues from saying a ‘happy ending’ joke for fear of ruining the moment.

“Thanks, but I don’t use these hands on just anyone.”

Ah, the intention was palpable.

Becca pulled her top off to give him better access to her sore muscles, working the knots out of her shoulders with ease. He worked his magic. Then dared to place a chaste kiss on her shoulder. Then down to the blade. Then the other one, all while his hands worked on her lower back. Her breaths hitched at his warm touch. Leaning back into him she reveled in his safe embrace.

Bryce moved his hands to her arms, tracing patterns mindlessly. His lips moved to her neck. Becca squirmed as he got closer to the sweet spot behind her ear, completely undiscovered by Bryce. Her neck craned ever so slightly to guide him to the spot that drives her wild with need. Her back completely pressed into his clothed chest. His left hand trailing dangerously close to her breast and the right dancing along her crossed thigh.

It was the sweetest feeling of anticipation.

Bryce delicately playing with her, handling his closest friend with care. As he went to kiss her cheek she felt his muscles lean and turned her head just enough to capture his lips.

A small delighted moan escaped him.

“Mmm.”

He wasn’t expecting it and the hardened determination of her feather light lips let him know it wasn’t an accident.

They turned to face each other never breaking the kiss, except to take Bryce’s top off.

Kissing Bryce Lahela was like finding clarity. It was a ray of light breaking through a storm. He tasted like sweet hope. It was hard to think of anything else other than his soft lips. The perfect arch of his cupid’s bow. In her whole existence she couldn’t find something to compare to the way she felt with Bryce. She was safe. She was taken care of. What else was needed?

With her back pressed against the couch he began unbuttoning her jeans. Heated kisses exchanged and distracting her, Becca’s sensibilities dulled down to simple desire. His skilled fingers made their way to her nub.

“Bryce” she gasped loudly.

“Becks,” he mocked, pleased with the reaction and continuing his sweet ministrations.

It had been weeks since her area had seen any attention and wow did it feel good - too good. Something inside Becca raised a red flag.

“Bryce,” she halted his hand with her own.

“Sorry if I -”

“It’s okay. I’m just…” She didn’t fully understand why she stopped.

He removed his hands fully from their previous tasks to wrap around her mid section, enveloping her in a hug. Her head still resting on his shoulder and his nose in her hair.

“We’ll go as slow as you like.”

______________

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Bryce:

@weaving-in-words

#choices open heart #open heart #bryce lahela #bryce x mc

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2econddesire · 1 year

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It’s been weeks, I haven’t heard from anyone. School has stated back and I am passed in the halls like I don’t even exist at all. I know we only hung out briefly but it still bothers me. So far my fresh start hasn’t been fresh at all. I thought I left this all behind me, the old me. The girl with the messed up family who was outcasted. The girl who was always alone and quiet and the only conversation being the millions of thoughts in my head. A lot happened back home with my family, they think I’m weird and different somehow. I don’t disagree I mean I only ever got along or had similarities with my aunt. So that’s why when my family kicked me out she was gracious enough to give me the funds to get back on my feet and start over somewhere new.

This was supposed to be my somewhere new. I guess it’s not though. Everyday I wake up, walk into town for my coffee, chat with Matt for a few as we walk to school together. He’s the only one that will speak to me. Come to find out he is a part of their friend group and whenever they spot us together they speak to Matt and it feels like I’m only briefly acknowledged because I am with him and they aren’t totally rude. Other than that they give me curious looks from across the hall or town or wherever we happen to be at the same time.

I’m in the library right now reading this random book I found in my locker, it was already in there on our first day back. I figured someone must have left it from last year meaning they clearly didn’t care for it much. It was huge and old and full of old words that sounded like gibberish, a different language almost but I somehow understood them. As I’m sitting there reading the book is suddenly snatched from my grasp.

“Where the hell did you get this? Your in town from all of 5 minutes and you’re stealing from people.” I looked up to be met with a very angry Bonnie.

“What are you talking about I didn’t steal it. I found it in MY locker.” I snatched the book back.

“Hey hey what’s going on?” Stefan approached us. I felt uneasy.

“This is my grams and she stole it like a psycho.” This girl was relentless.

“I didn’t steal anything it was in my locker when I first opened it on the first day. God, just when I thought I could actually start over and make friends and live a good life for once, the universe proves me wrong yet again.” I stormed out completely fed up. I had straight for the exit leaving into the parking lot. I shoved the book back in my back planning on heading for my house. As I was doing so I heard something hit the ground, I turned to look and it was the moonstone that fell from my bag. I keep it with my in hopes it would bring me some good luck but I’m starting to think the stupid thing is cursed with the luck I have. I stand up turning around after grabbing it and I’m stopped dead in my tracks. Standing in front of me is Stefan with his stupid perfect hair. I don’t understand how he got here so fast I didn’t even hear him exit the school behind me.

“Hey you okay? Wait where did you get that?” He asked

“I’m fine and I found it why?”

“You have a habit of finding things that don’t belong to you.”

“Oh what are you here to tell me that this is hers too?” I sassed.

“ No, but I am gonna need you to give it to me.” He said with all the seriousness in the world.

“Not happening, finders keepers.” I pushed past him but he grabbed my wrist hard stopping me. He looked directly in my eyes as his pupils dilated. What the hell?

“Give me the moonstone and the grimoire. And forget this happened.” What in the actual hell is wrong with this guy and what does he think he is trying to do.

I laughed snatching my hand from his grasp and walked away. “Not happening. And to think I thought I was the weird one.” I scoffed and continued on my way home.

#tvd #mystic falls #pov story #tvd fandom #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries #tvd imagine #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #stefan salvatore #matt donovan

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bike42 · 4 months

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Tuesday January 9, 2024

We slept well in our new room. I didn’t even need earplugs! I awoke as the sun was coming up, and went outside. I enjoyed the solace and the view for a bit, but went back inside for meditation and yoga. It was already warm out and the rough flagstone of our little patio would have made it tough with my thin travel yoga mat.

We went down to breakfast about 8am. Apparently we just missed a scuffle where a monkey came and stole cornbread from the table with the California ladies - leaving mom quite shaken and Bradd in a bad mood! To be honest, I was sorry I’d missed it!

After breakfast, we took a boat down to the end of the trail - Playa San Josecite. When our boat dropped us off, we saw just one couple on the other end of the large beautiful beach. We took a spot in the shade with a large driftwood log. I took my towel and laid out in the sun for about 10 minutes, which is as long as I could stand it! Jeff and I swam and the water was fantastic, but warm enough that it wasn’t refreshing. It is always fun to us to get tossed around in the waves!

We got out and moved back a bit to another log which gave us better shade and a more panoramic view. Water taxis were coming quite steady now - some just dropping passengers and some with guides coming ashore with coolers.

We heard a loud squawking and a large red Macaw flew over and landed in a nearby tree. He was feeding on some nuts - carrying on and making a mess. It was fun to watch him maneuver, using his beak as an extra foot!

Soon our attention was diverted to two boats filled with American college aged mostly girls - more than 40 in total, with just three boys that hung together and didn’t seem to mix with the girls. Most were in tiny thong bikinis and they seemed to be paired off in cliques of 3-4. It was such a strange scene in this kind of remote paradise. We haven’t seen a hotel large enough to accommodate a group like that! To make the scene even funnier, an older European couple got off a taxi. The slightly overweight man took off his long shirt, revealing a tiny speedo-style suit. We walked and stood in the middle of the young ladies, stretched out on their beach towels, and posed while his wife took his picture!

We ate the lunch the kitchen had packed for us: sandwiches, fruit and brownies… feeding our leftovers to a stray dog. Then we packed up and began the five mile hike back to the resort. When we hiked the 3 miles in the other day, I wore my Chacos. Today I wore my hiking, shoes and found the going to be much easier. Jeff found sticks in the jungle, and that made the hiking easier. Lots of up and down, climbing over rocks, and occasional muddy spots.

The jungle was pretty thick, and we didn’t see any other hikers for our 1st mile. Ahead of me on the trail I thought I saw a cat, but it turned out to be a white-faced Capuchin monkey who quickly climbed the tree and looked down on us. We walked a bit further, and I heard rustling above us in the tree with lots of leaves coming down. I knew that was a sign that there was a monkey up there. Jeff walked ahead, but I stayed and watched. Eventually I could see a group of three Slider monkeys. These are what I considere to be the classic monkeys, little bodies, really long arms and tails and legs. They swing freely from tree to tree and it’s so beautiful to watch! They were so fast I couldn’t keep up with them as I tried to make a video, so I just enjoyed the moment.

We came to Rio Clara - a big enough river with no bridge. Close to the sea, we took our shoes off and waded through, marveling at the strong current and glad for make shift walking sticks! It was warm, and we drank the 2 liters of water we had along. Halfway there we started recognizing landmarks from our previous hike. We took a sit down break and split a melted protein bar I’d had in my pack.

We started seeing a lot more people, including two uniformed policemen walking towards us! We arrived back at the lodge about 3pm, 2.5 hours of hiking, 5 miles exactly.

We were having ice water and talking with Bradd when the white faced Monkeys arrived - three little devils, working together. I saw one slip behind the coffee pot and enter the kitchen. He grabbed several packets of sugar and went back up to the roof. Drake was barking and going crazy, the monkeys chewed on the sugar packets and threw them back down at Drake, it was kind of funny and kind of scary. The battle went on for about 15 minutes, the monkeys were up on the roof and then out in the trees, and then back on the roof, jumping up and down, making a really loud sound on the tin roof. The dog was out of his mind. I took a really great photo of Drake barking up at the monkeys, while two of them are peering over the edge of the roof. I suggested Bradd buy a super-soaker to chase off the monkeys!!

After that much excitement, we headed up to our room for much-needed showers and rest. At 5 PM we dressed and headed to the Jungle Bar for a couple games of cribbage, and had a Pisco Sour, the drink of the day.

They served my mahi-mahi for dinner, and it was fantastic. We sat with a couple from Switzerland, a new couple from Germany, and a mom and son from New York City. Mice dinner but we were exhausted and headed to bed early.

Another fantastic day in paradise.

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

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how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more.

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier. The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body. "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Can you write a little mix member x avengers cast?? Maybe?

Hello love! Thank you for the request, I apologize for taking so long to work on it! I’ve written this as a headcanon, since I haven’t done any of those in a while. I hope you like it❤️

💌.

The Marvel Cast Finds Out You’re In Little Mix

Why is this lowkey a crack fic/headcanon😭💀

Alrighty so, I feel like they probably wouldn’t know you’re part of a band or who Little Mix is.

Since SADLY, the girls aren’t as big in the States as we’d like them to be:(

The people who definitely might know you are ✨The Brits✨ and Scarlett because she has a young daughter who probably listened to Wings or something—kids find everything on the internet these days.

Working with Marvel was your first acting gig; so none of them knew anything about you or if you’ve been in other films, etc.

Except for Tom Holland, who was lowkey fangirling at the fact he gets to work with one of the Little Mix members.

Side note: he’ll be deeply offended when he figures out the others don’t know about Little Mix or that you can sing.

The rest of the cast (RDJ, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Seb, Lizzie, etc.) had a hunch that you were some kind of writer.

You were always humming to yourself and writing in your notebook or typing down notes in your phone when something came to mind.

Though they didn’t pry at your business because—well, it wasn’t their business.

They could find out about your other job through many ways. Maybe you guys are doing promo and some interviewers mention the band and things about a new album, to which most of them were confused about.

“So (Y/n), I know this is your first time acting. How different was it from performing on stage and acting on camera?”

Everyone’s attention would be on you (this is a panel btw) Mackie’s looking at the back of your head in confusion, Robert fully turns in his seat to look at you, Lizzie is also curious, Evans is looking between you and the reporter—everyone is just confused.

“Performing on stage? Did you do Broadway (y/n/n)?” Evans asked. Tom (Holland) scoffed shaking his head, disgusted to be part of this group of uncultured swines.

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, I’m a singer. I’m part of a girlband.”

The whole cast gasped in shock. Mackie let out a loud “WHAT?!”. Robert leaned even closer to you trying to see if you were lying. Others whispered amongst themselves asking each other if they knew.

Tom (Holland) just sat back watching everyone’s reactions along with you. Amused at the amount of questions that were suddenly being thrown your way.

He’d also be quick to add, “NOT just ANY girlband, but the biggest girlband on the planet.”

For clarification, Tom’s a very proud Mixer.

Scarlett finally recognized you, knowing that she’s seen you somewhere before, but could never put her finger onto it. “Wait you’re from Little Mix!”

“THANK YOU! FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME TASTE!” Tom yelled, dramatically turning to Scarlett.

After the initial shock, everyone was very curious. They wanted to hear your music, wanted to know the other members, when your next tour was—they were very ecstatic.

When you guys finally reached London for the press tour, there was a lot of hype for Little Mix because you guys were going to finally reunite after months of being apart.

The girls were allowed to visit set, but since you guys were working on your new album, they were stuck in London. You were relocated to Atlanta, filming an Avengers movie and working on the album via FaceTime/Zoom.

You and the girls reunite the same night you land in London! As tired as you were, the five of you hung out in your hotel room.

You were all excited for the days to come. Not only were you doing promo for the movie but you and the girls were going to be performing again on night time talk shows and were having a Live Lounge session with BBC Radio 1.

The panel of the cast discovering you were part of a band went viral. Many of the fans couldn’t believe they didn’t know about your other job.

There were even edits going around social media of the cast looking clueless and or reacting to your ‘secret’.

Then there were ones like “Tom Holland being a Mixer for 10 minutes and 57 seconds straight”.

Your favorite one was where they zoomed in on everyone’s confused expression while that one Nicki Minaj song played in the background.

It was mentioned in almost every interview after it went viral.

“So none of you had a clue that (y/n) was also a singer? Like at all?”

“I didn’t even know homegirl could sing, matter of fact I never imagined her to be in a girlband.” — Anthony Mackie

“I had a hunch that she was a musician or artist, but no one ever listens to me.” — Chris Evans

“(Y/n)’s in a girlband? Since when?” — Paul Rudd

“After we found out, I listened to all six of their albums on the flight here.” — Elizabeth Olsen

“Of course I knew, my music taste is immaculate compared to the others.” — Tom Holland

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” — Anthony Mackie

“I really enjoy Black Magic, it reminds me of Wanda.” — Paul Bettany

The cast was so eager to hear you sing and watch you perform with the girls.

They finally got to do that when you invited them to the Live Lounge session. They also got to meet the girls.

You were very happy at that moment; seeing the two groups of people you love meeting each other and getting along meant a lot to you. It gave you a lil warm tingle in your heart.

Since there were no fans in the studio, it was only you and the girls, the band, and a bunch of the Avengers.

While the cameras rolled and you guys were performing, they were crowded together behind the scenes. Some of them were sitting on the carpeted floors or standing against the walls.

They were absolutely stunned when they heard you sing. You had a powerful voice that ranged from high to low, something they never expected of you.

When they heard you and the girls sing or harmonize with each other, it was like they were all in heaven.

“They sound like angels.”

“My ears are tingling, but like in a good way.”

“Seriously, how did we not know she can sing like this?”

“Hear me out—this is a perfect reason as to why we should have an Avengers musical.”

“Chris if we hear you bring up a damn musical one more time I swear.”

“Their voices go so well together, how do they even do that?”

Scarlett would secretly film videos to show her daughter. I have a feeling that Evans, Tom, RDJ, Sebby, and Mark would record some parts as well and would post it onto their Insta stories.

When fans found out they were at the Live Lounge they freaked out.

Ever since they found out you were in a band, they’ve been the biggest fans and supporters of the group.

They’re always promoting your albums on their social media accounts without you even asking.

Privately and publicly praising you guys for performances or achievements.

Your two main groups clashed and now everyone was friends. It was definitely the most weirdest collision— Little Mix and the cast of the Avengers. But it worked out perfectly.

Everyone got along with each other and the girls would always visit you on set.

They’re always playing the band’s song in the background on set.

Most of them won’t admit, but they definitely memorized the lyrics to almost every song.

*cough cough* Mackie and Hemsworth

I feel like Samuel L. Jackson would join in on the action too, one way or another. Somehow he got looped in.

ANOTHER THING OMG, they would definitely stand up for you and the girls whenever Piers Morgan or some asshole hates on you guys or pulls a jab on you all.

Best beileve Evans will be calling him out publicly on Twitter.

“Why are you so worried about a bunch of talented women who are doing their job and bringing happiness to others? They’ve done nothing to you, you’re always the one making jabs at them. Leave them alone you fucking British meatball.”

I feel like Robert helped you and the girls find a better management company after learning about the unfair treatment you all faced under Simon’s care.

In conclusion: The Marvel cast would be ecstatic to learn about you being a singer and they’d become your biggest fans. They truly adore you and the girls for your amazing talent :’)

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spine-buster · 2 years

Text

the hurt/comfort, pt. 2

A/N: Apologies for no real Rasmus/Lusine interactions in this chapter, but the interactions that do happen are important (as rough as they are) because y'all know I love my character building. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Saylor.

It was a weird name, Lusine thought, although she had a weird name too. It was spelled weird as well, although, again…pot calling the kettle black. She was at the game because her boyfriend, Kasperi Kapanen (she made that very clear) used to play for the Leafs, so she knew some of the women around – particularly Steph, who had introduced them in the first place. Saylor had invited her friends to the game with her, and there was a whole group of them – Loren, Sadie, Amanda, Jen, along with Saylor. Lusine could have sworn she recognized them from somewhere upon first sight, and when she heard Jen’s voice, she remembered – the coke party. These were Gina’s friends.

She made sure to stay far, far away from them.

Steph didn’t really pay much attention or talk so much with Lusine until Saylor and her friends left to go to their seats in the stands. Bee and Aberdeen were running late, it seemed, and while Lusine sort of clung to Steph because she was a familiar face, Steph seemed to want to do anything but make small talk with Lusine. They didn’t have a lot in common besides their blonde hair – Lusine knew that – but Lusine also knew how to hold polite conversation.

“So, what did you and Rasmus get up to during the All-Star Break?” Steph asked, finally.

“Uh…nothing?” Lusine answered. She didn’t know why she answered it the way she did, but the simple question made her nervous. It was almost like a certain thing that they had to get up to something. “I—I was in school the entire time. Lectures, tutorials, all that.”

“And you didn’t take a few days off with him? It would have been so easy.”

“N—No. It was a pretty busy week.”

“I used to do it all the time when I could get time with Mitch,” she said, waving her hand holding her drink around, her gigantic diamond ring shimmering in the light of the family room. Lusine knew why she was asking – she kept up on Instagram with the trip to Miami that Steph, Mitch, Justin, and Audrey Holl took together. Lusine hadn’t posted anything besides a picture of a stack of books she had to scour for an essay and a few stories of her and Rasmus walking Piper through the U of T campus. “So you guys just…did nothing?”

“Well, we hung out, obviously. We just didn’t go anywhere,” Lusine clarified.

“It would have been nice for you to take the time off so he could whisk you away somewhere,” Steph said. “I know I’d take advantage of that opportunity any chance I got, especially if it meant I could skip lecture.”

Lusine remembered back to what Aberdeen told her. Your partner isn’t supposed to take you away from yourself. Rasmus knew how much she liked school and learning in her lectures. For most people, school was a burden or something they were forced to do, a trap their parents forced them into so they would ‘get a good job’. For Lusine, school meant freedom. School meant a way out from her parents’ grasp. She loved school because he provided her with so many experiences. She didn’t want to give it up for a three-day trip to Miami where she’d undoubtedly get sunburned.

“What’d we miss?!”

Lusine and Steph whipped their heads to look behind them, and Lusine had never been so happy to hear Aberdeen’s voice. She was still bundled up in her coat, meaning she’d rushed up to the family room, and Lusine was grateful. She didn’t know how else Steph was going to make her feel bad in their conversation, but she didn’t want to know. “Hey Aberdeen,” Lusine got up from her seat to hug her hello. “You haven’t missed anything, don’t worry.”

“Good. I want to see Sidney Crosby!”

Many of the other wives and girlfriends began to roll in – Aryne, Courtney, Audrey, Ashley – and then Bee arrived unexpectedly with Aleida and baby Helena. Lusine was happy to see Aleida again, having not seen her since her concert, and another baby in the vicinity was always good news. Helena was just over eight months old, so she was in her prime chubby phase and looked completely adorable in her little baby jersey and tights. Steph seemed to disappear at that point, so Lusine stayed with her regulars.

Before the game started, Lusine sat with Bee in the stands while Aleida changed Helena and Aberdeen went to refill her water bottle. She glanced back to see Steph with a wine glass in one hand, laughing about something Audrey had said. She didn’t realize it before, but both of them still had nice, natural tans – no doubt from the Miami sun. She glanced at Bee, noticing she was still pale. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked Bee suddenly.

“Of course.”

“Did you and Morgan do anything for the All-Star Break?”

“We usually go back to Vancouver,” Bee began. “This year was supposed to be the Olympic break and, well…Morgan had a good shot of making the team. But after everything that happened, and all the rescheduled games, we didn’t get as much time as we usually get, so instead of going to Vancouver, Morgan and I just rented a cottage in Blue Mountain for a few days.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I…well, I couldn’t do anything with Rasmus. I had lectures and stuff, and an assignment due, and I just couldn’t go to like, Miami or whatever.”

“Ras wanted to bring you to Miami?”

“No! I just—he knew we wouldn’t be able to do anything. He brought it up early but I told him my schedule and it wasn’t an issue with him whatsoever,” Lusine babbled like an idiot.

“…Well then what’s the issue?” Bee asked.

Lusine wondered if she should even bring it up. But Bee was the most responsible, mature, and level-headed person she knew, so Lusine knew she’d have good insight. “Well, I was talking to Steph earlier—”

“—oh Lord, here we go—”

“—and she was saying how it would have been nice for me to take time off for Rasmus so he could whisk me away somewhere. Like I should have just skipped my lectures to be with him during the time he had off. You know, like Miami or whatever—somewhere nice, not necessarily Miami.”

Lusine watched the split second that Bee rolled her eyes. “If you had school, and Rasmus knew you had school, and he was totally fine with not doing anything for the, what, five days we had off? Then you’re good,” Bee replied. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Did anyone ever tell you that the first home opener game Morgan invited me to, I brought homework?”

Lusine’s eyes went wide. “You did?”

Bee nodded. “Nothing came before school for me, especially when I was finishing my Masters. Lusine—I—you don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to, but I’ll say it anyway so I can say my peace. Don’t let anything get in the way of your education. I mean it. And don’t feel guilty about it. Your education is your education.”

Bee was right. Steph could try to make her feel bad all she wanted, but Lusine couldn’t let her. This was her education. And besides, it wasn’t like she and Rasmus didn’t get up to a lot of fun staying at home. Even just going outside to walk Piper was fun for them – it would usually turn into a gigglefest or makeout session, and that was good enough for her. Not everything had to be about Miami or Mexico or the Dominican Republic. “Thanks Bee,” Lusine nodded appreciatively.

“Anytime.”

***

Lusine was trapped.

Saylor caught her during intermission after the first period. Lusine knew Aberdeen, Bee, and Aleida were waiting for her back in their seats, but Lusine didn’t know how to back out. Saylor was nice enough, but there was a fakeness about her that Lusine couldn’t get away from. From her smile to the words she was saying, Lusine just had a gut feeling that none of it could be trusted. Not as she went on and on about her time in Toronto, not as she went on and on about the drama of living here and dating a Maple Leaf, not as she went on and on about some of the other women – women that she had sucked up to when she first arrived. Lusine saw it with her own eyes.

“D’you wanna come sit with my friends and I? I bet you’d have a ton more fun,” she smiled.

“Oh, I’m already sitting with Aberdeen and Bee, but thanks for the offer,” Lusine rejected as politely as she could, knowing she didn’t want to go anywhere near the other girls. They probably already told Saylor about what had happened in the party. Lusine didn’t want anything to do with them.

“I would be careful of Aberdeen,” Saylor cautioned suddenly, stepping closer as if they were about to have a discreet chat, friend-to-friend, though Lusine didn’t even know her. “She seems super-nice but she’s not scared to go behind your back and betray you just like that,” she snapped her fingers for dramatic effect.

Lusine was flabbergasted right off the bat at the way Saylor was describing Aberdeen. Aberdeen was not the way Saylor was describing her. “Uh…really? Aberdeen?” she asked, if anything just to entertain Saylor.

“Mhmm,” Saylor nodded her head dramatically. “She used to work for Brendan Shanahan, so she thinks she, like, owns the team. When she was working here, she made all the guys on the team throw her a birthday party on the road and buy her this huge expensive gift, and because she was buddy-buddy with the videographers, she even got them to film it and post it on all the team’s official channels so everyone could see,” Saylor babbled on. “She was so desperate for relevancy. She even pushed her way to be around my boyfriend every chance she got. I mean, she even pushed her way into the bubble. Can you believe it? I mean, it’s one thing to be assertive, and it’s another thing to be pushy, you know?”

Lusine furrowed her brows. She didn’t know what type of shit Saylor was trying to sell, but it wasn’t working on her. Aberdeen was anything but pushy. All the things Saylor was implying couldn’t be further from the truth. Aberdeen had told her about her time in the NHL Bubble with the team, and she went in because Brendan Shanahan and Kyle Dubas wanted her to, not because she pushed her way in. “What are you even talking about? Aberdeen’s not like that at all.”

It was Saylor’s brows that furrowed now. She looked Lusine up and down, absolutely disgusted. “You must be dumb enough for her to fool, then. No wonder she likes you so much. She’s already brainwashed you,” she said before turning around and disappearing into the stands.

Lusine was taken aback by the outright viciousness of Saylor’s words. She’d never been spoken to in such a way by anyone at any time in her life – not even a TA or professor, and she was sure she’d said some dumb shit in lectures and tutorials before. Saylor’s ability to turn on a dime was astonishing. Was it Lusine’s words? Her tone? Regardless, Lusine knew she couldn’t dwell on it. Saylor was apparently going to be Saylor, and Lusine had to be Lusine.

***

During the second intermission, it happened again.

Saylor found her again. But she didn’t look at Lusine with a completely disgusted face, like how she left – instead, she was more inquisitive. Lusine had no clue what she would want to know, but she knew she’d be as secretive as she could. Saylor didn’t deserve to know anything about her.

“I want to apologize for before,” Saylor began. For a split second, Lusine believed she was apologizing for her comment, but as she continued speaking, Lusine realized she wasn’t. “I didn’t know that you got into a sticky situation with Gina a few months ago.”

Saylor was a true gossip in every sense of the word, and Lusine didn’t like that. “Uh, yeah,” she nodded slightly, not wanting to talk about it. “I went to a party at her place and it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.”

“You know, it’s sooooo funny how small the world is!” Saylor smiled mischievously. “I’m surprised Rasmus got with you. Did he tell you he tried to hook up with Sadie before – I mean, she’s stunning, so who wouldn’t, right? – but she rejected him. And now he’s seeing…well, you. Which isn’t the same, but, well, not everyone can be as stunning as Sadie.”

Lusine tried to stand tall. She tried not to let Saylor intimidate her. But it was hard. It was hard because she was bringing Rasmus into it – someone she loved. “Yeah. Small world.”

Saylor smiled one more time before turning to walk. But then, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked back at Lusine. “You know they have Bio Oil for that thing on your forehead, right?”

Lusine froze. She was so rigid that her hand didn’t even dart up to her forehead like it usually did. “W—What?”

“That scar on your forehead. And the one on your cheek? I mean, do you even try to hide them? They’re brutal.”

Lusine was deathly still. She wasn’t even watching Saylor walk back to her seat – she was in such shock that she wasn’t really watching or concentrating on anything besides the comment that was just said. They’re brutal. They’re brutal. They’re brutal. It was all she could think about; all she could hear in her mind. Just those words over and over again. They’re brutal. They’re brutal. They’re brutal. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She ran to the washroom, and only when she was in the privacy of the room did she let out a loud, heavy sob, tears almost immediately streaming down her face as her chest heaved and she tried to catch her breath. Even when she tried to calm herself down, she couldn’t. She’d hear the words they’re brutal, they’re brutal, they’re brutal, and she’d break down all over again, crying even harder than before.

It wasn’t until the doorhandle jiggled slightly, with the door swinging open, did Lusine even remember where she was and where she was supposed to be. In walked Aleida – beautiful, stunning, perfect Aleida – balancing Helena on her hip and her diaper bag over her other shoulder. Aleida stopped dead in her tracks once she noticed Lusine sobbing. Her face went completely serious, just like it had during the dinner at SoHo House when Auston mentioned the situation with Gina. “Who did this to you?” she demanded.

“Why are hockey girls always so mean?” Lusine didn’t answer Aleida’s question, but posed her own instead. “It feels like all the girls in the city hate me because of who I’m seeing.”

“Who did this to you?” Aleida repeated.

Lusine took a couple of deep breaths before answering, if only because she didn’t want to be a bawling, blubbering mess in front of one of the most beautiful women in the world. “Saylor,” she revealed. “She—she caught me in b-b-between p-periods, and Gina told h-her about what h-happed, and as she left she said—sh-she said ‘You know they have Bio Oil for your scars? They’re brutal.’.”

Lusine watched as Aleida’s face went hard. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, opening the change table and setting Helena down on it expertly. “I promise, Lusine. I’ll take care of it.”

“Why do they hate me so much, Aleida?”

“They don’t hate you. They hate the idea of you,” Aleida clarified, focusing her attention between Lusine and changing Helena’s diaper. “They hate the idea that someone they don’t know is living the life they want. They’re trying to intimidate you—”

“—No, no,” Lusine interrupted, shaking her head. “This isn’t about that. This is just evil, pure evil.”

“Because they’re evil. They’re not good people but you’re a good person.”

Lusine stayed silent, shaking her head, tears still falling down her cheeks. “Why would she say something about my scars?”

Aleida could hear the heartbreak in Lusine’s voice, and her heart almost broke too. “People like Saylor and Gina are willing to say and do anything to get their ideal – whatever that may be,” she explained, throwing out the dirty diaper and prepping Helena for a new one. “They go low because they have no morals. You can’t let it affect you. They do it to get a rise out of you because you’re new and they think it’s easy.”

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so stupid that I fell for their trap and went to that party. None of this would have happened if I knew what I was fucking doing,” Lusine lamented.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. It could have happened to anybody,” Aleida assured her. She finished putting a new diaper on Helena and put her clothes back on before balancing her on her hip again. “And remember, I’ll take care of it.”

Lusine didn’t care about Aleida taking care of it. She never wanted to see Saylor or Gina or any of the other girls for the rest of her life, and Aleida ‘taking care of it’ wasn’t going to help that happen. She wanted normalcy, she wanted to stop crying, she wanted to not be such an emotional, naïve child. Most of all, she wanted Rasmus. “What am I supposed to do?”

“She cannot see you cry. If she sees you cry, she wins,” Aleida said. “Just stay in here to collect yourself, and come out when you’re ready.”

“I’m never going to be ready. That’s the point!” Lusine emphasized. “I’m never going to be ready for any of this! Why can’t somebody just tell me what to do so I don’t have to go through something like this?” she couldn’t stop sobbing – hadn’t stopped sobbing since Aleida walked in on her in the washroom. She kept playing the line over in her head; it was all she could hear – they’re brutal.

“You have to be the hero of your own story, Lusine,” Aleida said sternly, like the good mother she was – though it was something Lusine’s own mother never told her. “You’re the writer of your own story and if you don’t write it, others are going to. Johnny once told Bee that one of the risks of being quiet is that other people can fill your silence. You can’t let people fill your silence.”

“But how can I fill my silence when I don’t know what to say?!” Lusine wailed. “I’m still learning, Aleida! How can you know what to say when you’re still learning?”

“Whatever you say is better than saying nothing. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to come from you—”

“I’m not a grown up!” Lusine cried out, louder than anything she’d said thus far. The pain and fear in her voice struck Aleida like a ton of bricks. “You’re all older and grown up and you think I am but I’m not! I’m nineteen for heaven’s sake! I don’t know what I’m doing!”

For the first time ever, Aleida saw herself in someone else. With those simple words, Aleida saw herself at nineteen years old. So Aleida did the one thing she wished she’d gotten when she was nineteen.

She gave Lusine a hug.

Lusine bawled in her arms, her entire body shaking as Aleida held her tightly. She didn’t speak – at least not yet – because she knew the action was louder than any words she could say right now. And more than anything, she wanted Lusine to feel comforted. Aleida knew what exploitation was, and there was no way in hell she was going to let that happen to another young girl in this city. She was subjected to so much the second she turned eighteen, and it fucked with her in immeasurable ways – it fucked with her identity most of all. Lusine had much more naivety about her, that was for sure – she definitely wasn’t as ‘street-smart’ as Aleida was at eighteen or nineteen – so it made Aleida even more protective. Knowing that someone – let alone Gina or Saylor – preyed on Lusine because of that naivety didn’t settle well with her. Quite frankly, it made her blood boil.

Lusine knew there were mean people in the world, but she didn’t expect to interact with them in the same timeline that she met the love of her life. It was one thing to be jealous from afar – to Instagram stalk, or simply just watch as another person lived the life you wanted or did the things you wanted to do or interacted with people you wanted to be in the same room with. But that was completely different than being jealous up front and personal – being jealous to a point where the other person saw it; being jealous to a point where you inserted yourself into that other person’s life to destroy it or at least uproot it. That was malicious. That was cruel. That could only be done by a special type of psychopath.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Lusine said once she had calmed down enough to speak.

“Do what?”

“I don’t know if I can put up with it. I don’t want to be part of their game.”

“Then don’t be,” Aleida told her.

“It feels like all the progress I’ve made since SoHo House and wearing something that shows off one of my scars has just…gone,” Lusine continued.

“Don’t let them take that away from you,” Aleida stressed.

That was easier said than done. On a good day Lusine would be strong enough, but right now she wasn’t. “Maybe Toronto isn’t right for me. Maybe I’m not meant for…this. Maybe up until now I’ve been seeing everything through rose-coloured glasses and this was the hit of reality I needed to see that I don’t belong and never did.”

“You are meant for this city. And it’s meant for you.”

Lusine didn’t know if she believed Aleida, but one thing was for sure – Aleida was making her feel better, even if it was just a little bit. She still felt defeated, and upset, and hurt and angry and helpless, but at least she wasn’t crying alone. At least there was someone there with her…and a baby. A very quiet, well-behaved baby. “When did you know you were meant for this city and it was meant for you?”

Aleida shrugged. “I’ve lived her my whole life. I was never really meant for it – I made this city, and this city made me.”

Aleida saying she made Toronto? Only she would. “I would kill for your confidence.”

“A lot of people would.”

Lusine paused. “Did you ever feel like this when you were my age?”

Aleida nodded. “All the time.”

“What’d you do?”

“Exactly what you’re doing now. Except nobody found me in a washroom and gave me a hug.”

This was already hard, so Lusine could only imagine how hard that was. “I didn’t think this was normal.”

“Being nineteen and not having a clue what you’re doing? Lusine, that’s totally normal,” Aleida almost giggled. “Nobody expects you to know what the hell you’re doing at nineteen. Why do you think you have to?”

Lusine shrugged. “I just don’t want to be seen as juvenile or immature. I came from—I was very, very sheltered, and I don’t know a lot, but I don’t want people to know I don’t know a lot. I want to prove to myself that I can survive here – anywhere – without my parents hovering over me.”

Aleida figured the ‘hovering’ had something to do with the car accident she explained at dinner. She didn’t want to push it. “I’d say, for a nineteen year old, you’re doing a pretty decent job so far.”

Helena fussed suddenly, and Lusine sort of snapped back to reality – here was Aleida, a new mother, comforting her in the bathroom of an arena when she should be paying attention to her baby. Lusine was taking that away from her selfishly. “Listen, I’m gonna have to put Helena back in her car seat – do you want to come back out with me? I’m going to handle it, like I promised.”

Lusine immediately shook her head. There was no way she could show her face out there again. But she wouldn’t tell Aleida that. “I think I’ll wait until I’ve calmed down more,” she lied. “Maybe until my eyes and cheeks aren’t so red.”

“Okay, well…I’ll be back,” Aleida stared her down. “Deep breaths, Lusine. And remember – nobody knew what the hell they were doing at nineteen, either.”

***

“How’s my sweet baby girl doing?” Bee cooed at Helena as Aleida took her seat beside Bee in the row.

“Ladies, we have a situation,” Aleida announced, handing Helena over to Bee.

“A situation?” Aryne asked.

“I found Lusine crying in the washroom,” she said. “Apparently Saylor found out about the party with Gina and found her. She told Lusine there’s Bio Oil available for her scars and that they look brutal.”

Aryne, Aberdeen, and Bee’s jaws dropped at the revelation. “Are you serious?” Aryne was shocked.

“That motherfucking bitch,” Aberdeen seethed, looking towards the section she knew the other girls were sitting in. “I’m gonna fucking go over there and knock her teeth down her throat.”

“You’re a famous author now, Aberdeen. You can’t risk doing that.”

“Yes I can—I—Aleida, why are you taking out your phone?”

“I told Lusine I was going to take care of it, so I’m taking care of it.”

“What are you doing?” Bee asked, though it was no use.

“Hi, Chris? It’s Aleida Casillas-Andersen,” she spoke into the phone. The girls immediately recognized the name – Chris Henderson, the head of security at Scotiabank Arena. “Chris, I think we have a bit of a situation…Can you check the security cameras? I have it on good authority that some of the guests that we’re hosting of the Pittsburgh Penguins have brought drugs into the arena – specifically into the family lounge and washroom.”

The girls’ jaws hit the floor. They kept listening in on Aleida’s conversation. “Mhmm…mhmm…do you remember Saylor Greene? From when Kasperi Kapanen was on the team? She’s one…Yes, and she also has a friend named Gina.” Bee mouthed “Holy fucking shit” to the other girls as Aleida nodded her head. “Yup – the same Saylor Greene that would always cause trouble when she was here. Some people don’t change, right?...Mhmm…Mhmm…well it was a friend that saw it, and Chris – I really don’t think she deserves another opportunity. I mean this is the family lounge. Can you…oh, they can come with handcuffs? Perfect. Thank you so much Chris. I really appreciate it.”

Aberdeen was holding on to the armrests for dear life. “Aleida—”

“I handled it,” she said simply, putting her phone back in her purse.

The girls looked at each other. Bee was very clearly trying to hide her smile at what Aleida had just done – as was Aberdeen. “And you handled it perfectly,” Aryne piped in, hiding her own pleased smile.

Aleida still had it in her. It was just somewhere deep down.

The girls waited. It wasn’t long before two security officials came through the family lounge and down the steps into the stands, looking around at the crowd. Once they spotted Aleida, she discreetly pointed them to the correct section. They watched. They watched as the officials made people get up, entered the row, and made their way towards Saylor and company. A couple a few rows down who were taking a video of the game heard and noticed the commotion, and turned their camera to film what was happening. A loud shriek emerged from Saylor, followed by a wail from Gina, and lo and behold – they were handcuffed right then and there, screaming as they were dragged out and up the stairs away from the stands.

“Ma’am, there are security cameras. You are under arrest,” one of the officials said to Gina as she kept screaming passed where Aleida, Aryne, Aberdeen, and Bee were seated. They couldn’t believe it actually happened, but Aleida could. She always knew Gina and Saylor would get their comeuppance one day, and she was glad that it came from her.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Aryne was still shocked at what transpired in front of her. “I mean – incredible work Aleida – but wow.”

“I’m going to go check on Lusine. She’s still in the washroom,” Aleida announced, getting up. “You still got Helena?” she asked Bee.

“Always.”

Aleida made her way up the stairs and back into the family lounge. She knocked on the door to the washroom. “Hey Lusine – it’s Aleida. You doing okay in there?” she asked.

No answer.

She knocked again. “I dealt with them, Lusine. They won’t bother you ever again. You can come out now.”

No answer.

Aleida jiggled the doorknob and noticed it was unlocked. “Lusine?” she asked as she swung the door open.

The bathroom was empty.

***

Lusine barely remembered to grab her jacket before running out of Scotiabank Arena.

It must have been some sort of divine intervention, because the snowstorm had started outside. Yet another 15-20cm expected before morning, which meant it was really coming down. But all the snow falling didn’t stop her from walking the streets of downtown, tears streaming down her face.

Lusine didn’t know if she could do it. She didn’t know if she could put up with it. Which is why she ran away. She wanted zero part in their game. With only a few words, they’d already destroyed any progress she’d made. They fractured the part in her that believed there was more to her than just scars.

Maybe her parents were right.

105 notes · View notes

dancingamongstdust · 3 years

Text

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting Part 2

Hoodie

The area where you lived had a ton of back alleyways that acted as shortcuts in a pinch. They were generally safe but you often got an uncomfortable feeling when using them so you preferred to take the busier roads if you could.

Unfortunately, when you had gone to leave work that day, you had spotted the customer who had been harassing you the entire day. It wasn’t anything creepy but it was over-the-top persistent and you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. You slipped out the backdoor as a result. At least you’d get home sooner.

For the most part, you didn’t encounter anything too suspicious and the light from the streets illuminated where you were going.

The large bins outside the grocer’s home indicated that you were getting close. You sped up and rubbed your eyes blearily.

Ahead of you, a dog was barking from inside one of the buildings. It was a pretty noisy animal and you began peering around to see what the source of its agitation was. Ironically, you ended up bumping directly into him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, rubbing your shoulder.

The guy was tall, wearing dark clothing and standing right in the shadows. You could have probably noticed him if you were a little more awake.

He turned and your breath caught.

His face was obscured by a dark mask with red features stitched onto it. His hoodie which originally seemed dark was now illuminated into a soft yellow or orange, stained with a dark substance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice crackled out, clearly coming through a voice changer of some kind.

“I – I was just taking a shortcut home. I live near here so I thought… I really didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m super tired.”

“Tired or not, you shouldn’t have seen me,” the guy said. “Do you have a phone or a camera?”

Slowly, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I don’t have any cash in my wallet –“

“I don’t want your money!” he snapped. “I’m not some petty thief, believe me, I have better things to do with me time. Unlock this.”

You did so and he went through it with a gloved hand. He didn’t have a weapon but something in your gut warned you to just go along with it. Nobody covered up everything, including their voice, when they were up to something good. This guy may not be a thief… but the alternative didn’t feel too much better.

He shoved your phone back at you. “Get out of here and don’t breathe a word of this to anybody. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a good mood today.”

You swallowed nervously. “Thank you?”

“I’m serious,” he warned. “I can let you go just because you seem pathetic enough to not take this to the police but unless you want to catch a bullet in your back, you’ll keep quiet. My boss doesn’t like people getting involved with this nonsense.”

“A bullet?”

He didn’t answer and your heart thundered in your chest. Part of you wondered if he was going to kill you while you ran away but his attention seemed to have moved away from you. You hurried away, holding your breath the entire time. Every time you glanced over your shoulder, the guy remained unmoving.

When you reached your home, you locked the door tightly and slumped against it in exhaustion.

Homicidal Liu

The sunset was beautiful over the graveyard – the only beauty to an otherwise morbid place.

You stared at the purples and oranges dancing across the sky. The wreath pricked at your hands after a while and you stared down at it. Why did you still bother with bringing flowers? Hadn’t it been long enough? Still, you made your way down to the grave and placed them there, not even bothering to read the name on there.

Lately, your graveyard visits had becoming fewer and fewer. Time hadn’t been on your side recently and thus, your precious solitude had to suffer. You relished in the way that nobody really bothered you here.

An orange glow warned you when the streetlights came on. Perhaps you had been there for longer than you thought but this was to be your last visit.

Better to make it count.

Something caught in the wind made you raise your head. A piece of fabric was stuck in the nearby fence, identifiable as a scarf when you ventured closer.

You took it from the fence and looked around for its owner. Nobody was in view… maybe it had been blown off one of the graves? It did seem homemade.

Guessing, you began to place it on a grave when a voice startled you.

“I’m sorry to bother but I think you have my scarf?”

The man was standing far too close for you to have not seen him when you were glancing around but you blamed that on your night vision. He wore dark clothing and seemed awkward just to be speaking to you.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was just going to leave it on one of the graves because I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

He thanked you for it, wrapping it around the lower half of his face almost immediately. “That would be a waste,” he said. “Especially to leave it on this one. Thank you for grabbing it.”

A harsh wind blew through the graveyard, carrying with it the smell of an incoming storm. He grabbed his scarf just in time to prevent it from going flying away again.

“Seems like the weather is determined to steal it from you.”

“Far more powerful things have tried.”

You buried yourself further into your jacket and smiled. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new in town or just coming to visit a new grave?”

“I’m not visiting a grave,” he admitted. “I just thought that this would be the way back to my house… I grew up in this town but only recently moved back and I’m already lost. It’s a little embarrassing if I’m honest.”

“Well, I like to know everybody,” you said. “What’s your name?”

“Su – I mean, Liu,” he said. “Liu. Sorry, I nearly gave you my surname.”

You laughed. “Oh that’s no problem. It’s nice to meet you but I really like your name. Is it Chinese?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked around and began walking away. “I really have to go. Thank you for getting my scarf and all that.”

“I’ll see you around,” you said with a wave.

It was only later when you realised how suspicious that entire interaction was. You had never seen Liu before in your life and he was just hanging around in the graveyard? He hadn’t seemed too creepy at least. Maybe you would see more of him in the coming days.

Jane the Killer

It wasn’t that you were unobservant or inattentive toward girls but nobody had really caught your eye until Jane.

She was stunning in a way that few people could ever match with dark hair that tumbled past her hips and soulful eyes. Her walk was always confident, her smile always perfect, and her attention always desirable. Your main regret about life was that you didn’t speak to her sooner – especially when you thought back on what happened not too long after your first meeting.

You organised with your friends to somehow bump into her but instead, you wound up getting treated for a pretty painful bruised hip. Your second plan didn’t work out either and your third never even left the drawing board.

“Just go up to her and say hi. Tell her that she’s beautiful,” your friend encouraged. “She’ll say thanks and then you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“That’s so boring though,” you said. “It’s not like something out of a romance novel.”

Your friend groaned and stood up. “Well, I’m going home. We have like three months left of high school and I’m not going to spend that time obsessing over how to speak to a girl. She’s literally a regular person.”

They were right and you knew that. No matter how you tried to set up a sweeping romance, it probably wouldn’t work out.

So you tried.

And you tried.

Two weeks later, you were about to give up on mimicking a romance novel and it appeared that your friend was thinking the same thing. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you somewhere, muttering about changing the topic. You had a vague idea of where you were going but you didn’t fight too much.

“What if she’s still dating that Woods boy?” you asked. “The older one.”

“They broke up after literally a month of dating. I don’t blame her – those Woods boys are pretty enough but the older one has something seriously wrong with him. And the younger one is always talking to himself…”

“I really don’t care about the Woods’,” you commented.

“No, you care about Jane who is honestly quite weird as well,” they said. “But that is going to be your problem and not mine.”

They dragged you directly up to her group. It wasn’t large – despite Jane’s beauty, she wasn’t incredibly popular due to her associations. Your friend wasn’t the only one who was a little scared of the Woods boys and Jane had hung out with them for quite a while.

“Hey,” your friend said before even letting you go. “You have no idea who we are but my friend here has a massive crush on you. Could you please just say hi so they can get it out of their system?”

You were sure that it was unhealthy to be as red as you were. It felt like your heart was about to leap from your chest.

Jane laughed, a soft and gentle sound. “I’m not really interested in a relationship,” she hummed. “But thank you. That’s very flattering.”

Somehow, your heart sped up still and you awkwardly rubbed your arm. “No problem?”

“Why don’t you join us for a little bit?” Jane offered. “Just because I don’t want to date anybody doesn’t mean that we can’t become friends. You look like my kind of person.”

You stumbled over your words but somehow, your conversation managed to go extremely well. Jane was brilliant in every possible way and you quickly grew attached to seeing her every day. That was why you mourned so greatly when she died.

Jason the Toymaker

The sun was so warm against your skin. You could stay there forever, stretched out on the grass and basking in the sunlight.

“It’s done,” your friend’s voice broke through your daydreaming

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see exactly what they had been working on for the entire trip. After realising the first few times that you weren’t going to get a reaction, you had decided to wait for them to finish working before you tried to have a conversation.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” you said. “That’s amazing.”

The hyper-realistic man was sketched to perfection with a top hat, a fur coat, and a small mouse sitting on his left shoulder. It felt like his eyes could piece into your soul.

“Who is that?” you asked them.

They stared blankly at the image and shook their head. “I don’t know,” they said. “He’s been in my dreams for so long. I think it has something to do with my amnesia. Maybe I knew him once before.”

“He’s a little intimidating,” you said. “I could imagine him to be a ringleader in a circus that’s like a secret cult. Maybe he’s why you lost your memory.”

“Maybe…” they said, tapping the picture. They suddenly shoved it into your chest and stood up. “You keep that. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I need to go talk to my parents.”

You watched them race out of the park in confusion. The man in the picture stared up at you with haunting eyes.

Folding it in half so it didn’t freak you out, you stood and dusted off your clothing. Maybe it would be best if you headed home. It was getting late either way.

Later on, you’d call your friend and check up on them.

About 10 minutes away from your house, the feeling of being watched snuck up on you. It hung heavily around your shoulders like a cloak. You glanced around but saw nobody.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable leading whoever was following you back to your house. You made a point of walking amongst large crowds and headed for the police station.

They were watching you the whole way.

You sped up. A few people bumped into you and you apologised as best as you could. Your grip on the picture was getting tighter enough for you to tear it. The later it got, the fewer people were on the streets and so you were pretty much alone when you bumped into him.

It took you a few seconds to recognise the man from the drawing.

If you thought his drawn eyes were captivating, they had nothing on his real ones which glowed with an almost ethereal light.

“You’re him,” you breathed.

He stared at you, smile falling from his face in confusion. “Who?”

You shakily held out the drawing and he yanked it from your hands. “My friend drew that,” you explained. “They said that its of somebody from their past. They have amnesia you see.”

He was unmoving as he studied the picture. You began feeling a little uncomfortable and then his gaze snapped to you. “Is that so?” he asked.

You nodded and took a small step away from him. “Maybe you should go and talk to them? See –“ you swallowed nervously. “See if you can help them remember?”

“No need,” he said, dropping the paper on the ground. “Who are you?”

Your name came out as little more than a soft whisper. Something about the entire scenario made you uneasy. His appearance was too unnatural.

A gust of wind came by, picking up the drawing and whipping it away. You watched it go and when you looked back down, his eyes were locked on you.

“Such a pity,” he said. “You would have been the perfect doll.”

Wearily, you took a step backwards. His words made your stomach churn uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled. It was kind and warm but it only made you more nervous. His eyes looked like they had almost changed colour; shifted a shade darker than previously. “Thinking aloud my dear,” he said.

“About dolls?” you asked.

He tilted his head a little towards you. “I’m going to have to bid you goodbye. It seems I have other matters to attend to.” He brushed past you, stopping briefly when directly next to you. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He was gone before you could even spin around to face him.

Jeff the Killer

Pausing the song, you removed your earphones as quietly as possible and placed them down on your desk. According to the blinking numbers on your phone screen, it was nearing 2 AM. Far too late for anybody to make an excess of noise.

You listened closely. The music had been too loud for you to hear anything and you almost brushed the strange noise off as your sleep-deprived imagination. Until something squeaked like shoe soles on tiles.

In retrospect, you should have immediately called 911 but you didn’t want to sound a false alarm.

The light switch was thankfully directly outside your room. The hall illuminated most of the house when they were on and it steeled your nerves. Your roommate’s door was open, allowing you to confirm their sleeping state, curled up in their bed amongst the piles of mess. They had had to move to the spare room due to a faulty window earlier in the day and had clearly given up sorting items.

You glanced into the apartment’s other rooms before heading to the kitchen. There was nothing odd. The scuttling when you entered the kitchen just suggested that your neighbour’s rat infestation may be migrating.

Making a mental note to call the exterminator, you turned to switch off the kitchen light.

Something slammed into you, forcing your back to collide with a wall. A hand covered your mouth and the overwhelming scent of blood and decay invaded your nose. Something cold and sharp pressed against your neck.

“Shut up and stay still,” the man snarled at you. “I don’t think anybody will appreciate you getting blood in the kitchen.”

Your heart leapt into your throat and your body stilled. The man in front of you was terrifying. His skin pale and mutilated. Eyes far too wide for a normal person and dancing with an insanity that sent chills down your spine.

And his mouth… a bloody smile carved across his face, stretching halfway to his ears.

He studied your face carefully and his expression twisted. “You’re not the right one,” he snapped. The knife moved away from your neck, so he could point with it. “I had this all planned and yet when I came into that room, I found it empty. Why?”

Even if he hadn’t been holding your mouth shut, you doubted you would have been able to formulate an answer. The pounding heartbeat in your ears was nearly blocking out his voice.

He lightly tapped your cheek with his knife. “Not that it matters,” he said. “I’ll just have to adapt my original plan. You’re not the right target but I’m a huge fan of collateral damage.”

A small whimper escaped you and tears welled at your eyes. You didn’t want to die.

“Don’t blubber!” he ordered. “View it as a good thing. You’ll be all over the news. Another victim of Jeff the Killer. Hell, you might even be added to a Wikipedia page or something.”

You could recall that name from the news. Often followed by a lengthy list of deaths and the police chief begging for any information about the murderer.

Jeff stared at you for a long minute before he pressed the knife’s blade to your throat and moved his hand away from your mouth. “Scream and I will remove your vocal cords,” he threatened. “Who are you?”

It took several deep breaths and a flicker of impatience in his expression to give you the ability to talk again. You stammered out your full name as quickly as you possibly could.

He rolled his eyes and tilted the knife so it scratched your skin. A sticky and warm substance ran down your throat in small droplets. “Pathetic.”

“Sorry,” you whispered on instinct. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You ruined my earlier plans to take out my original target by interrupting me before I could find them. Why shouldn’t I settle for you instead?”

You didn’t have an answer.

He took the blade away from your throat. “If you call the police and report what happened here tonight, I will slice you into little pieces.”

It was almost twenty minutes after he left before you regained any movement in your body. You slumped into a heap on the kitchen floor and started sobbing.

Kagekao

Things had been going missing around your house.

Initially, you had thought it was just due to you forgetting where you’d plopped things because it was simple things. Drinks that vanished, keys turning up on the opposite side of the house, and random spills that you didn’t remember making.

But then it started getting weirder still.

You would make food and pack it away, knowing that you would eat it later, and find it gone. Picture frames disappeared, never to be seen again. Your rug half-unraveled during the night and you found it in a pile the next morning. A candle in your bathroom fell over and, somehow, the curtains on the other side of the house had caught alight.

It was suspicious, to say the very least. You began to think that you had some kind of intruder – once, the news reported that a woman found a homeless man living in her attic and eating her food when she wasn’t looking.

So you went out and bought cameras, setting them up throughout your house.

For two weeks, they caught nothing until one of them ended up breaking. You went to get it repaired and the company managed to recover what it had last seen. Which was nothing on your first glance.

But you were soon to realise, that was only because you had been looking at the floor.

While you were rewatching when you got home, you noticed something. The window was sitting wide open and the camera’s angle only allowed you to see half of it. Right toward the end of the feed, a gloved hand appeared on the side of the window and a slight shadow indicated something climbing through.

So you got reinforced windows and made sure that none were open unless you were in the room.

Things still continued happening.

You were beginning to get really annoyed by this. It was tempting to go to the police and let them just handle it but that was going to be a lot of effort that you really didn’t care for. You didn’t feel like you were in much danger. Nothing had happened in your bedroom.

Your next plan was to set up a trap of some kind. With a hidden camera set up, you made extra food and left it on the counter to see if something happened.

The next day, you watched as a plastic toy of some kind was thrown directly into the plate from somewhere off-camera, breaking it and leaving an absolute mess everywhere.

Still not considering it to be anything dangerous, you just cleaned up the mess and loudly cursed out anybody who was listening. You stalked the house after that, searching every nook and cranny with a bat in hand. The final place was the closet in your bedroom and you peered in, expecting nothing.

When you turned around though, you spotted something sitting in the corner of the room.

It was humanoid with arms twisted into awkward positions and a mask on its face. Half the mask was black and the other white, both sides bearing an unnaturally smiling expression. The creature cackled when you saw it and scuttled out of the door, stuck to the roof the entire time.

A second passed.

Then another.

You pinched your arm hard and waited to wake up. Surely there was no way… I mean, why would… humans didn’t generally crawl along the ceiling? Well, you were quite sure they never did that. You must have been imagining it.

A second laugh corrected you on that.

You swallowed thickly, walked over to your door as calmly as possible and locked it. Then you took out your phone and finally called the police.

Kate the Chaser

The day when Kate was sent away remained very clear in your mind. It was a moment that brought extremely change to your life, mixing up your friend group and sending you in a different direction.

The years has passed and you had never gotten over your best friend. They said that she had lost her mind and you knew it was true. All those games investigating the woods and ghost hunting must have put a toll on her mind. Sometimes, you blamed yourself for all the pranks and you knew that Lauren had similar doubts.

And now she was back.

Lauren and you hadn’t remained close, the entire situation feeling too real with one another. Your greeting was stilted but neither of you wanted to be the first to approach the house.

“Do you think that she remembers us?” Lauren asked.

“If she didn’t then her mom wouldn’t have invited us over,” you said.

You stood in complete silence, staring up at the house. Would you even recognise Kate? The last time that you had seen her was when you were both young children and her face remained at that age in your memories.

Eventually, you gained your confidence before Lauren and you walked over, knocking on the door before anxiety could find you.

Kate answered the door and you forgot why you had ever been nervous.

Time had slimmed her face and shortened her hair. Her eyes were still a gentle brown and the cockiness had faded from her smile, but it was recognisable from your nostalgia. It made you feel warm and known – an aura that you had missed without even realising it.

“Hi,” you greeted.

Kate pulled you into a tight hug and you returned it, clutching at her tightly as though she could slip through your fingers. It really had been too long and when you moved away, she held onto Lauren with the same enthusiasm.

“How have you been?” she asked. “You have to tell me everything.”

The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon having tea and just talking about the world at large. Kate didn’t have many stories from the hospital – she claimed it was because the place had been extremely boring and neither of you pushed to find out more about it. Honestly, it was more comfortable to act as though she had simply moved away.

Lauren had to leave first and you were going to go with her but Kate had looked so down that you remained just a little longer. That was when things got weird.

“I’ve missed music a lot,” Kate sighed.

“Did they not allow you to listen to music?”

She grimaced. “No, they did but often I couldn’t hear it over the static. Its mostly gone away now but it came back last night… it fills my brain and all that I can think of is a way to make the pain stop.”

The colour drained from your face as you stared at her. You didn’t know much about what happened to her but you had thought she would be okay now.

Realising it, Kate hurried to reassure you, “I really have recovered,” she said. “My hallucinations have faded and my medication keeps my emotions in check. You really don’t have to be scared of me.”

You stared down at your cup awkwardly. “I’m not scared of you,” you reassured her. “You’ve never done anything to me.”

She nodded. “It will be alright, you’ll see. I’m ready to get back to a normal life with my friends and not have to worry about that ghost stuff ever again.”

Laughing Jack

It was on your leg…

The glare you fixed the small child with could wilt plants. It didn’t care though and merely clutched at your clothing with a happy smile. “Come play with me?” it asked. “I can introduce you to all my friends!”

“How old is she again?” you grumbled at your friend.

Your friend laughed and ruffled their cousin’s hair. “I had an imaginary friend when I was 10. She’s only 6, she’s still at the stage where they’re a big deal.”

The child was oblivious to your conversation and reached out her arms. “Come on. The parents are being boring. I have candy that my friend gave me. We can share it.”

“I agreed to come along to your family get together to keep you company,” you said to your friend. “You know I don’t like children. Babysitting really isn’t my forte.”

All you received for your complaining was laughter.

By the time you had the 4th teddy bear had been introduced, you were done. Why did one kid have so many toys?

“Now which one of your friends gives you candy?” your friend asked. “Because if it’s from Princess, I don’t think it’s edible. What if she secretly puts glitter in it?”

Expected to play along, you sighed. “Unless it’s glitter from rainbows because then it’s got magic powers and allows you to fly.”

The child liked your thumb-sucked statement because she jumped up in excitement. “I don’t get it from Princess. Jack gives it to me! But if Princess can make me fly, I want to have that kind of candy instead!”

“Which one’s Jack again?” you asked, eyeing the line of toys.

“He’s not here right now,” the child said, biting her inner cheek. She turned in a circle. “Sometimes he hides in the cupboard though!” She ran over to her cupboard and pulled the doors open. “I don’t think – OW!”

She reeled backwards, clutching her cheek. Both you and your friend immediately jumped up and ran over to her. A tiny slice mark ran across the side of her face. It wasn’t anything serious, but she was sobbing as though it would kill her. You presumed a small edge on one of the boxes in the cupboard had been the cause.

“Do you want me to take you to mom, so she can kiss it better?” your friend asked. “Your new best friend can wait here and make sure all your toys are safe.”

The child nodded, and she got led out of the room. You rolled your eyes at the sensitivity and reached into the cupboard to push the box out of the way. A clawed hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed your wrist tightly.

Before you could even shout, it lifted you off the ground by your arm and a second hand had wrapped around your mouth.

The monster’s body appeared out of the closet.

It was a clown. Easily 7ft tall and comprised of monochrome colours with a sharp, pointed nose and long, greasy hair. Its black lips spread into a smile, revealing pointed teeth and a sickeningly sweet breath.

You writhed against its grip, trying to scream or do anything but it was insanely strong, and it just laughed at your efforts.

“How mean,” it purred, leaning in close to your face. “You ask who I am and then, when I appear to you, you insult my appearance. Awful etiquette. Your parents should be concerned about how rude you are to strangers.”

You strained your memory to think about what you had been doing before it grabbed you but the adrenaline was clouding your mind. What had you asked? You struggled more with the lack of memories.

The clown shook its head. “I haven’t revealed myself to somebody so old in a long time. You should be flattered but instead you choose to try and kick me. This is why I don’t do this. Children are far more polite.”

He released you suddenly and you landed hard on the ground. It winked and disappeared, right as your friend and her cousin returned.

“You met Jack!” the child shouted excitedly, pointing to the candy lying next to you.

You shoved it away from you as quickly as possible.

#creepypasta #scenarios #hoodie x reader #marble hornets #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #jane the killer #jason the toymaker #kagekao #x reader #jeff the killer x reader #laughing jack #kate the chaser

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