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yslkook · 3 years

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IF I GOT YOU (7)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: one month later...and things start to come to a head. you feel more at peace than you've ever felt, but as usual, what remains peaceful is always interrupted.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, HELLA HELLA toxic friendship and dynamics, suggestive content (hooking up and other mentions)

word count: 4066

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts

Despite a month going by from the last time you spoke to Jungkook in the park and put all of your feelings out in the open, spring air, you feel lighter than ever. Maybe most of that has to do with the simple fact that you’ve finally cut out a toxic, deadweight from your life. Regardless of what ends up happening with you and Jungkook as friends or more than that, at least you are at peace and happy with being yourself.

Besides, it’s not like you don’t ever see him. You see him when you visit the tattoo parlor (but you haven’t allowed yourself to be alone with him and he hasn’t initiated), you’ve seen him at impromptu nights out, at Yoongi’s apartment. Neither of you allow yourself to be alone with each other, since you had both agreed to wait. Even your text message thread with him is dry, though.

You miss him, hoping that a notification of his name with the bunny emoji attached to it flashes across the screen. But it doesn’t.

For all of his bravado, he feels somewhat shy around you on the few occasions that he’s seen you. Jungkook will go out of his way to avoid you, hiding (as much as he can) behind Mina and Mei.

He misses you. Jungkook misses the feel of your lips molding against his, the way you felt in his arms, but most of all he misses your shy smile and your loud laugh. He misses the way your eyes shine when you speak about something you’re passionate about.

Mina had said you were both being stupid, taking time away from each other when you both are denying the inevitable. But it made sense in your mind and his. You want to know what kind of person you were without the burden of Sora’s judgment weighing heavily in every frame of your life. You take the time you need to take to recenter yourself and feel somewhat whole again.

It doesn’t take you long to adjust to life without a former best friend. You quickly begin to notice how different you feel, how differently you approach basic things that you hadn’t really put much thought to before.

It feels so refreshing to not feel like you’re walking in some metaphorical shadow of someone who didn’t really care about you. Well, you think on some level, she did care. But along with the insignificant way she made you feel, it’s not enough to justify it. And you’re really grateful that you don’t need to anymore.

In fact, you’ve already deleted most pictures with her on your social medias. You haven’t quite been able to block her yet, but you think you’ll be ready to do that soon enough.

The ever elusive notion of time really does seem to heal nearly all forms of hurt.

“So,” Yoongi starts, sitting next to you on his new black leather couch and handing you a glass of red wine.

“Don’t start with me,” You say, poking his shoulder.

“I’m not starting anything with you,” Yoongi shrugs, but his eyes twinkle.

“Oh? That’s the voice you use when you have gossip or when you’re about to interrogate me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” Hobi chimes in, sitting on your other side. He leans back and drapes his legs over your lap, to which you instantly rest your hands over his legs.

“How lucky for me,” You mumble, taking a long swig of your wine. You’ll need it.

“How’s that witch doing,” Yoongi asks bluntly.

“I don’t know, I told you I cut her off and kicked her out of my house like a month ago,” You reply, “Did you forget already?”

“No, I just like hearing that you finally came to your fucking senses,” Yoongi says, “She was awful, but I’ll commend you for sticking it out for this long. Cheers, the witch is finally gone-”

“I believe the phrase is, ‘ding dong, the witch is dead’, but this will suffice,” Hobi says and yelps when you swat his shoulder.

“Don’t be rude,” You say, “But… thank you for helping me see the light. Even if it took a while. And I’m sorry it affected our friendship, too.”

“Ah, well, we’re all here now,” Hobi says, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah. So cheers,” Yoongi says again, raising his glass to you both, “Cheers to you for choosing yourself. And to new beginnings.”

“You’ll make me cry,” You say honestly, offering your friends a watery smile.

“As if we’ve never seen you cry before,” Hobi scoffs. And it’s true- they are two of your oldest friends, and even if you’ve come to the realization that maybe you hadn’t been the greatest friend to them… That bond is hard to sever, and you’re grateful that they’ve always had your back.

“Drink up,” You say with a smile, “Cheers to new beginnings.”

Yoongi has always been a little sly, unassuming but always with several tricks up his sleeve. When he so desires to cause a little mischief and stir the pot a little. And Hobi is all too happy to engage.

Which is how you end up several glasses of red wine and rose deep (yes, you mixed, rookie mistake but who cares. You’re in the presence of some of your greatest friends, after all).

And then Yoongi goes in for the kill.

“How’s our Jungkookie,” He asks, without missing a beat. You choke on your wine and wince when it somehow gets lodged in your nose.

“I don’t know. Think he’s good,” You finally respond, your words sounding slurred, “Ask Hobi. They work together, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, thanks for the information. I had no idea.”

“Happy to be of service,” You say, leaning into Hobi's side, “Ikindofmisshim.”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that,” Yoongi says, a self-satisfied smirk blooming on his lips. He heard you, of course he did, but you don’t seem to pick up on it.

“I said I kind of miss him,” You reply, a dreamy look in your eyes, “Do you think he misses me, too?”

Hobi chokes back a laugh but you hear it and offer him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Nobody’s making fun of you, stupid,” Yoongi says poking your forehead, “And yeah. Your man doesn’t shut up about you. Always with those eyes around you.”

“He’s not my man,” You whine pathetically.

“Yeah, that’s a mystery to both of us,” Hobi says, “How long are you both gonna keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

“This weird awkward dance you both do around each other. Avoiding each other when we’re all together. It’s kinda funny, like we all know you both wanna fuck so bad-”

“Shut up! That’s- that’s not- shut up!”

Yoongi and Hoseok both burst into laughter, drunken giggles loud in the living room and you can’t help but laugh with them.

Clubs were never your most favorite place to unwind, but you make an exception for tonight. For Mina and Mei, you’ll make an exception. The three of you had gotten ready together in Mei’s home, in between sips of cocktails that she had poured out. Mina had done your makeup for you, giving you the sharpest eyeliner you’ve ever seen on your eyelids as well as a bold red lipstick.

It’s not a club night if there is no red lipstick involved, after all.

Your makeup usually looks good when you apply it yourself, but Mina has a genuine eye and skill for makeup artistry. You recall her telling you that she’d always dreamed of going to beauty school but hadn’t pursued it. You had told her that it’s never too late to fulfill a dream and she had only smiled at you.

“Hey,” You say, “Is Jimin coming tonight? How’d your date last week go?”

“It was really good,” Mina says, something sweet in her voice, “He made me dinner and dessert. And then I sucked his soul from his cock an hour later and he even made me squirt. And yeah, he’s coming tonight to the club. We’ll see what happens...”

“Wow,” You nod, listening with wide eyes, “That sounds amazing. I’m really happy things are going well for you both. Including the horny stuff.”

“The horny stuff?” Mei laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” You say, playfully shoving her shoulder, “It’s no joking matter that he made you squirt.”

“Yeah, I high fived him after,” Mina says slyly, “It was… a night. Can’t wait to have another night like that. But I’m gonna make him work for it tonight.”

“As you should,” You nod solemnly, “What about you Mei? Are we drinking until we blackout or are you playing hard to get with Seulgi?”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Comes Mei’s muffled response.

“Cheers to that,” You reply, “Are… Jimin’s roommates coming?”

“You think you’re slick, huh?” Mina snorts, “You wondering about Jungkook?”

“N-no, I haven’t seen Taehyung in a while either-”

“Tae’s coming, but Jungkook isn’t. Something about having a long week and wanting to chill at home.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say, cheeks ablaze as you avoid her eyes. Unable to hold the slight sting of disappointment from your voice.

Mina and Mei see right through it but they say nothing, only handing you a refill of your now empty glass.

Despite the relatively steady stream of drinks in your hand (an illusion, really, you’ve been nursing the same two drinks all night), you’re almost completely sober. In fact, you’re more tired than anything else. It seems that Jungkook had the right idea to stay home tonight. You’re rather benignly jealous of his decision.

You enjoy dancing and singing with your friends, feeling the thrum and excitement of music and your close companions bursting through your veins.But environments like this overwhelm you sometimes. All of the flashing lights, sometimes smoke and all of the people… Tonight seems to be one of those nights.

“Wanna dance?” Comes a rich, velvety voice behind you to the right. It’s Taehyung, and you’d rather dance with Taehyung than anyone else in this club. With the exception being Jungkook, but he’s not here right now.

“Okay,” You nod, taking his hand when he offers it to you. Your thoughts flit to Jungkook briefly.

Taehyung is good company, always keeping you with a smile on your face and filling you up with laughter. He keeps you close with easy, gentle movements as you both belt out the words to whatever song is playing on the speakers. But Taehyung has always been observant.

“You don’t really wanna be here, huh? I’d take it personally, if I didn’t know you,” Taehyung teases.

“No, it’s not that,” You murmur, “Just have never been a big club goer, that’s all. Jungkook had the right idea in staying home.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muses, “What are you two doing?”

He’s almost as blunt as Yoongi (who’s also in some corner of the club. Usually, he keeps you company at things like this, but conveniently, he’s nowhere to be found.).

“If I knew I was going to be interrogated in this club, I would’ve drank more,” You say dryly. Taehyung laughs at that and squeezes your shoulder.

“You both deserve to be happy. Just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tae,” You say, a grin spreading across your face, “I guess you’re not as sleazy as Mina says you are-”

“Me? Sleazy?” Taehyung gasps, pretending to be affronted. You roll your eyes and offer him your hand.

“Wanna dance?”

Taehyung turns you around and holds your hips tightly in his hands, dancing with you to the beat of the music. It’s nice to be held like this, even if it’s a little dirty.

You don’t notice a pair of sly eyes watching you from across the club.

By the time you excuse yourself to catch a breath and grab some water from the bar, you realize that most of your friends are off doing their own thing. It gives you a second to people watch from the second floor of the curb and lean on the railings, taking in your surroundings. Despite stifling a yawn.

You relish in the cool feel of the icy water flooding your senses, waking you up a little more. You wonder if you can convince Yoongi to take you to get fries or tacos after the night ends. At the thought of tacos, you salivate a little.

But your taco fueled fantasies are broken when a few girls try to push past you to get to the bar. You mumble a soft apology, but it goes unheard. The unmistakable sound of a voice, a voice that you’ve only recently been able to put out of your mind, breaks through the barrier and it makes your heart drop.

It’s an angry call of your name. Your stomach churns, and suddenly you’ve never wanted to learn the art of teleportation more.

Sora, in all her bitter glory, stands in front of you with a full drink in her hands. Beside her are two of her friends, looking resigned and trying to plead with her that they should go.

“Missed me so much that you followed me here, huh?” Sora sneers.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response. Or you for that matter,” You say tiredly, trying to step past her.

“All your friends left you. Look at you all alone,” She says and you roll your eyes with a dry laugh.

“I’d rather be alone than have anything to do with you, Sora,” You reply easily, “I’m leaving now-”

But she sidesteps you again, gripping your forearm and looking at you with so much animosity that it makes your skin crawl. Had she always looked at you like that?

“I can’t believe you just dropped me like nothing. After I gave you everything,” Sora says, as if you had said nothing at all. She’s clearly a little drunk, telltale signs of her drunkenness clear on her face. Her words are slurred and she stumbles a little on her feet. You cringe. You don’t want to have this conversation with her whether she’s sober or drunk.

“You treated me like I was nothing,” You snap, “I don’t want to discuss this with you. Now let me go.”

“Or what? There’s nobody here ‘cept you and me, babe,” She says, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Her friends have disappeared and warning bells start to go off in your head. She’s right, all of your friends have dispersed. But you manage to fish your phone out of your purse while she rambles to you and send a text to the groupchat, simply stating “pls help, Sora is here”.

Dread seeps into your pores. You just want to be done with her presence.

“Sora, just let me go. Nothing you say will change anything,” You say heatedly, “Fucking let go of me!”

You try to yank your arm out of her grip but her nails are sharp against your skin.

“I loved you, you know that? I fucking gave you everything, you were my best friend,” Sora hisses, “I just wanted to you be happy. To see that I’d do anything for you.”

It takes a minute for the dust to settle but you suddenly begin to understand. “You hurt me! That’s not friendship or l-love, or anything remotely close to it. Nothing you say will change that. I don’t want you around anymore. Take a hint, Sora,” Your voice is cold and deadly, nothing like what Sora is accustomed to.

“Please, let me go,” You beg softly, “Why won’t you let me go?”

Tears spring into your eyes, both from the force she’s holding you with and from how much this is exhausting you.

“What does he have that’s worth all of this?” Sora hisses.

“It doesn’t matter what he has. I like him and I enjoy spending time with him, that’s all that should matter, and I’m not explaining Jungkook to you,” You say coldly, “You lost the right to know a long time ago. If you took your head out of your ass for two seconds, you’d know that this friendship was over months ago.”

By now, both of your voices have raised in volume and pitch, attracting the attention of bystanders. This makes no sense to you, your head is starting to hurt from the implications of her words. You just want to go home. By now, Yoongi has seen your text and is trying to get to the bar to rescue you from Sora.

“He won’t give you what you need,” Sora exclaims.

“Shut up! Just fucking stop talking about him,” You shout, “I’m so fucking sick of this, just leave me the fuck alone. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore, just drop it!”

You feel the need to defend him though, “He’s kind, he has a big heart a-and, you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just fucking drop it! Leave me alone!”

“You are so fucking blind! You’ve always been such an oblivious fucking bitch,” She screams at you and your blood goes cold. You’ve seen her angry, but not like this not when her eyes are blown over with rage.

Yoongi’s heart is beating in his ears as he tries to find you- this club is fucking huge, where the hell could you be? He’s already sent a text to Jungkook, telling him that you might be in trouble at the club and that nobody could find you.

“Where is he then? If he’s so kind, he must be here right?”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve always had a stick up your ass about him specifically- I mean you’ve always have a stick up your ass, but with him it’s like something crawled up there and died-”

“You couldn’t even cuff him? You dropped me for him and you didn’t even cuff him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“What are you afraid of, babe?” She sneers cruelly, “Afraid he’ll find something he doesn’t like? Or are you afraid you’ll find something that you don’t like?”

Frustration and hurt boils in your belly, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. You shut your eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away. With all of the calmness you can muster, you throw her hand off of you and rub your forearm gingerly.

Before you can say anything, her eyes narrow to slits. You don’t even have time to react before you feel a sudden wetness drench the front of your top. Remnants of her drink are splashed on your torso and you gasp, rage flaring through your veins once more. How dare she throw her drink at you? Before you can do anything though, a pair of arms circle your waist and you’re pulled into a strong chest.

You recognize the scent of his cologne immediately and the feel of his leather jacket. “Jungkook,” You mumble, looking up at him. He immediately gives you his jacket and pushes it through your arms wordlessly.

“Hi,” He murmurs, taking in your wide, nervous eyes and the trembling of your hands. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before standing in front of you and you take his hand in yours. Jungkook squeezes reassuringly.

He offers Sora a long, hard look and a shake of his head. She almost balks at his intense gaze. Almost.

“C’mon baby,” Jungkook finally says, “Let’s get out of here.”

“My knight in shining arm-” You shiver once you’re both outside the club, away from the eyes of strangers. You cut your train of thought off when he pulls you close to him, cupping your cheeks with both hands. Worry dots his eyes and he presses his forehead to yours shakily.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Is everything-”

He exhales, a shudder felt against your skin. He seems to be at odds with himself, an internal battle dancing in his dark eyes. But Jungkook makes up his mind and cradles your face again, the gentle pads of his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I missed you,” Jungkook croaks, “Shit, I miss you so fucking much. Can I kiss you, baby? Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod instantly, breathing out a soft ‘yes’. Whatever this recent development means for both of you, it makes sense. You want this and you want him.

And then he kisses you as if it was meant to be, as if he’s been thinking about your lips every minute of every day- soft, balmy lips against your chapped, red lips. Jungkook swallows your gasp, somehow brushing against the parts of your heart that missed him. His kiss is sweet and desperate as his tongue traces over your teeth before dipping further into your mouth. Your knees weaken slightly, but he holds you steady with one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your cheek.

You’re overwhelmed by him and from the events of the night. Whatever wetness had gathered in your eyes clings to your lashes before dropping down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Jungkook says softly. He gathers you in his arms, hugging you tightly. You sink into his hold on you, inhaling deeply. The faint thrum of his heart calms you slightly.

“I missed you,” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, “Fuck, I missed you a lot.”

He kisses your forehead with a small smile, the hint of his dimples making you smile, too. Jungkook looks at you as if you’re transparent, trying to study the reason for your wet lashes and the tear stains down your face. A feeling of understanding passes between you both, calming your racing heart and your nerves.

“Jungkook,” You murmur, “Take me home.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” You reply, not really wanting to be in your home just yet, “It’s only fair, since you spent the night at my place last time, right?”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Jungkook chuckles. He kisses you one more time before adjusting his motorcycle helmet over your head. When you wrap your arms around him, you press a kiss to the back of his neck and behind his ear.

He shivers.

Jungkook can tell you’re in your head a little bit, a little quiet and shaky. Even as you head into his bathroom to change into the clothes he’d given you, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. When you returned from the bathroom with a bare face, you’re lost in thought, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing harshly.

He’d pulled you into his arms, applied his clear balm on your lips, and chided you for treating your lips like that.

You only smiled weakly at him and meekly asked him to hold you under his covers. He doesn’t deny you.

He’d caught the tail end of Sora’s tirade at the club, and he’d begun to understand. He thinks you had begun to understand, too.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers into your hair, “Do you want to talk, baby?”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admit softly, pressing your hand over his.

“I can talk for both of us,” Jungkook says, kissing your temple, “Can I do that?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.

“I heard some of what Sora said,” Jungkook says and you tense up but he wordlessly tells you to relax, “I think in some weird, twisted, fucked up way. She loved you and her way of showing you how was keeping you to herself. It’s shitty, but it made sense to her. But you don’t owe her anything, baby. Not a damn thing.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I feel really gross and I don’t know why.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Jungkook says, rubbing your arm, “You didn’t know. That’s not love, not really. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” You say, turning to look at him with a small smile, “I trust you.”

You turn fully in his arms, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, as well as his gentle fingers over your back. It’s so easy with him, and you don’t need to think too much. Just how you like it.

Tags: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing ix.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 844

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

Jungkook recognises that it’s, to a fault, extremely unhealthy for him to pretend like his problems don’t exist and bury them under a blanket of social interactions that were meaningless to him and excessively working out at the gym so he could get his mind off things.

Granted, it was always how Jungkook dealt with things and he was a creature of habit. He was stubborn and irrational at most times, and usually pretending like his problems didn’t exist did him relatively well. Because like most things in life, problems passed and if people were his problem then he’d just not talk to them. Simple, really. Jungkook had it figured out right to the o.

Well, until he realised that a huge chunk of his problems, though irrationally, was working out right beside him.

“You almost done?” Namjoon grunts, finishing his last rep as he drops the weight to the ground as it sounds through the empty gym.

Only because Namjoon and Jungkook were the only people that were crazy enough to work out at eleven o'clock on a school night. But realistically speaking, Jungkook only asked the football group out of formalities and did not expect his own captain to have responded.

Maybe because you’re too busy hanging out with _____, came Jungkook’s bitter thought. But surprise, Namjoon was very much sweaty and engaged in the workout session that has Jungkook’s head spinning.

“Yeah.” Jungkook huffs, dropping his own weight before he dabs the hem of his tank top to his forehead to catch the bead of sweat before it drops.

Namjoon walks over to pick up his own bottle and toss Jungkook his own before he chugs the liquid in one go.

Jungkook has half the mind to be a petty motherfucker and rejects it but he was way too parched to deny the tempting object. Besides, he could pretend like Namjoon wasn’t the bulk of his many problems. Even if he knew Namjoon was unsuspecting of everything, it was easier to blame him for the fact that you weren’t keen on hanging out with him than himself.

“The circuit today was intense.” Namjoon points out, shooting a raised eyebrow expression in Jungkook’s direction. “You nearly killed me, man.” He finishes with a teasing tone.

Jungkook huffs dryly, “Maybe that’s a sign for you to work out more.”

He’s being bitter, he knows that. Because Namjoon was huge and hit the gym as frequently as Jungkook did.

Namjoon, however, is oblivious to this. “Maybe.” And Jungkook hates that he accepts it so easily.

Jungkook’s mind is all over the place and never mind that he’s burnt enough calories to last him his workout quota for the next two weeks, but he has the urge to pry. To ask Namjoon things that he no longer had the privilege to ask you anymore.

But before he can say anything, Namjoon beats him to the first word.

“You and ____ are close right?”

Jungkook pauses, fist tightening around the bottle before he clears his throat. “Um. Kind of.” Because he wasn’t sure anymore, so he settled for that instead you conveyed otherwise to Namjoon. But he knew that you wouldn’t, you weren’t petty like that. “Why do you ask?”

And Jungkook doesn’t like the way that Namjoon looks nervous. Call it his sixth sense, but he just doesn’t like the insinuation behind the way Namjoon fiddles with his fingers.

“Well, you, Jimin and Tae are, right?” Namjoon asks. “And Yena, but I already had this conversation with her anyways.”

“What conversation?” Jungkook immediately asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think it’s pretty obvious to most people that I’m into her.” Namjoon snorts, but Jungkook can’t find it in himself to laugh.

“Right.”

“Things have been going well and so far all the hangouts we’ve had were friendly,” Namjoon says with a small smile.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with the information he was receiving or why he was even receiving it in the first place. Sure, Namjoon and he were close because they were under the same football team and chemistry between players was definitely a prerequisite when it came to bagging wins.

“That’s nice to hear.” Jungkook grunts.

Namjoon nods absent-mindedly as he plops onto one of the workout benches, swinging a towel over his shoulder. “I told her that I wouldn’t rush into things with her but I really do like her. And I want to ask her out. Officially, that is.”

Jungkook quite literally freezes all his limbs when the words tumble out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“And because you’re important to her, I just wanted to know if you were okay with that? I mean—she has to be okay with it but you’re someone she cares about so your opinion does matter to a certain extent. Either way, I’m going to do it but I thought it was just courteous of me to let you know.”

And damn you for being courteous, Jungkook curses to himself mentally.

“What?” Jungkook croaks because that’s all he can manage.

He’s heard it from Jeonghan, Yugyeom and Jaehyun when it came to locker-room talk but he’s brushed it off because what did they know, right? Even if Yena was heard whispering to Jimin conspiringly, he’d pretended he hadn’t heard a single word just so he could delude himself into thinking that it wasn’t real.

But for Namjoon to directly confirm it to his face, Jungkook feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“I don’t know, man.” Namjoon sighs, “She’s really something else, you know? I’ve been kind of admiring from afar for a really long time because someone wouldn’t introduce her to me”—he shoots a playful glare to a stone-faced Jungkook who can’t even respond—“and getting to know her personally just really solidified the fact that I really like her.”

Jungkook is a level-headed man, most of the time at least, but there were things that threw him off. Overly salty food, flash mobs, microwaves; but most of the time he was able to recover.

Most. Not all.

“No.”

Namjoon freezes, and so does Jungkook. But for two very different reasons.

“I’m sorry, did you just say no?” Namjoon asks dumbfounded.

Jungkook can’t stop his mouth. “Yeah.” He swallows. Stop talking. “No.”

Namjoon furrows his brows, “Yeah to you saying no or, yeah to literally the context of this conversation?”

Jungkook has never resented Namjoon more than right now, even when he’d made the team run extra laps as a warm-up.

“You can’t.” Jungkook deadpans. “You can’t ask her out.”

And for as long as Jungkook knew Namjoon, he knew that under the calm and collected exterior that he took most of the time because he was the captain of the football team, and diplomacy was necessary. He was petty, and to a certain extent, immature. But he did a far better job and conveying his displeasure compared to Jungkook.

“Okay, and who are you—her dad?” Namjoon scoffs.

Even if it was made explicitly clear by Namjoon that he was doing so out of respect for you, Jungkook still felt the need to defend himself.

“Her friend.” Jungkook snaps. “And you’re my captain. That’s just—weird.”

He knows his excuse is lame, and so does Namjoon.

“Really,” Namjoon says dryly. “That’s your excuse?”

“Not an excuse. Facts.” Jungkook retorts childishly.

Namjoon snorts before raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who is all but making eye contact with him.

“Does this have to do with why you weren’t keen on introducing her to me in the first place when I asked?”

Jungkook nearly drops his water bottle when he swings around, face scandalised in a way that shows that he’s been caught but attempting to deflect.

“What the fuck are you even saying.” He splutters.

Namjoon is as calm as ever, “You tell me, Jungkook. I don’t see a legitimate reason as to why I can’t ask her out.”

Jungkook scoffs, cheeks red. “I told you. It’s weird. What if you guys break up? How’s that going to be for Jimin, Tae and I?”

Namjoon blinks.

“I can be civil.” He shrugs. “The question is, can you?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes into slits as he observes Namjoon. He’s never gotten into any conflicting situations with Namjoon, purely because he never had a reason to. He never knew his captain could be so … retort-inducing, but here he was. Ready to snap back, for a very childish reason he wasn’t ready to unpack just yet.

“Look. How bout’ you think about it a little more?” Jungkook feigns disinterest when he fiddles with his gym bag as if he was looking for something. It was an escape to this conversation. “The two of you just started hanging out and she’s not the type that likes it rushed, anyways.”

“I’m not asking her to marry me, Jungkook.” Namjoon blinks.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I know. If you were I think I’d have a stroke.” He mutters. “Thing is, there’s probably a lot of things that you don’t know about her yet so you may as well just … wait.”

His excuses are getting a lot more pathetic by the second, and Namjoon clearly feels the same because he shoots a frown at Jungkook.

“That’s the point of asking her out … to get to know her.” Namjoon drawls slowly, stating the obvious.

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh and he wants this conversation to be over because he’s already let out more than what he’d like.

“She’s just not the type …” Jungkook lamely defends.

Namjoon purses his lips. “And that’s coming from you?”

Jungkook glares at Namjoon who doesn’t look like he’s going to back down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “It means—you’re not her so you have no right to be assuming shit about her. I don’t care if you’re her best friend or whatever the hell you are to her that makes you think you automatically know what she wants or doesn’t. The reason why I’m telling you all of this is purely out of respect for her, and her only. Frankly—I couldn’t give a rats ass about your opinion on this.”

Jungkook gapes at Namjoon because this is the first time he’s seen him anything less than cool and collected. But perhaps this was why he was always taken so seriously in every context he’s found himself in. Namjoon was diplomatic when he need be, and firm when necessary. This was one of those occasions and Jungkook hates that it’s him on the receiving end under the context of you being the topic of conversation.

“Well—”

“And, if you have something you want to say to her.” Namjoon sighs, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder and levelling a look so serious that it sends a shudder down Jungkook’s spine, “Be honest to her. She doesn’t deserve anything less than that.”

Right before Namjoon turns around to leave, Jungkook has to ask—

“How did you know?”

He doesn’t have to say what, because Namjoon clearly knows what he was talking about. The stiff chuckle he releases is enough to prove that.

“I’m not stupid, Jungkook.” He says. “First it was not introducing us to each other and now it’s the unwarranted possessiveness. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

Jungkook purses his lips, feeling his blood run cold because if Namjoon knew then …

“So what? You’re going to tell her?” He accuses.

Namjoon scoffs. “Jungkook, I like you. You’re a good friend of mine. I’m not going to fuck you over like that. That’s your own issue to deal with.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” Jungkook mutters dryly.

Namjoon sighs, turning his body to face Jungkook as he offers him a blank expression that he can’t quite read.

“I don’t know about you but I’m not the type to conflate my personal life with my friend's personal life. Sure, we like the same girl—” Jungkook winces, but Namjoon continues anyway. “—but life goes on. I’m a big boy and so are you, right?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek when Namjoon offers a slight smirk with a raised eyebrow.

“So you’re backing off?”

The slight hopeful tone that Jungkook has is naive, and he knows that. But a selfish part of him just wished that Namjoon would so he could figure out how to solve and fix things between the two of you without the interruption of his own football captain in the mix.

Namjoon snorts, “No way. What did you take me for—a pushover?”

Jungkook gapes, “Then what—?”

“I’m still going to ask her out. Your feelings are your own and it’s not my responsibility to look after them for you.” He shrugs, turning on his heel to leave the gym. His hands are on the knob when he turns around. “She’s single. Nothing’s stopping you or me from doing anything.”

And he leaves, not before he adds: “Don’t be late for training tomorrow. We have circuit training.”

It’s been a week since you’ve last spoken to Jungkook and two weeks since he’s apologised to you at your apartment. You still remember the ghost of his lips, the heat of his hands when he held you close.

You still had moments in between where you were distracted, but there was something oddly compelling about a person you were trying to forget for the time being that haunts your every thought. And you hated yourself for it, for still wondering if he was okay or how he was doing when you were the one that put distance between the two of you.

Maybe that’s why your hand reaches out to your phone, but it’s as if God had sent you a Guardian Angel when a hand grips your wrist.

“I thought we weren’t touching our phones?” Namjoon has a teasing tilt to his voice when he murmurs the words.

You flush, meekly retracting your hand as you send him a playful glare.

“What are you? The exam invigilator?” You scowl.

Namjoon snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows. You can’t help but flush harder, pouting at him when all he does is grin at you.

“I’m meant to be the person you’re paying attention to.” He returns, voice husky and you feel yourself grow flustered.

Obviously, because Namjoon was attractive and he told you on occasions that he’d intentionally raised the pitch of his voice because it was way too deep for people to understand.

“Grow up.” You mutter, but your tone is light when you roll your eyes at him.

You’ve grown much more comfortable with Namjoon in the recent times you’ve hung out with him, purely because there was something very welcoming about a person like him. He was understanding and calm, yet he was absolutely hilarious without even needing to try. There were moments where he’d make you laugh until you cry which resulted in the librarians shooting you glares from their desks.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He hums, definitely recognising the way you were a little out of the loop even throughout your study session.

The library is quiet during this hour because it wasn’t exam season and rarely were students willing to spend time on a school night at the library against their own will.

“Just … stuff.” You sigh.

And Namjoon frowns ever so slightly because you were always like this, tucked away in your own compartment as if you were afraid to reveal anything more.

“You can always talk to me, you know?” He whispers, eyes focusing on your face when he leans down.

You purse your lips and you nod. You knew you could, but your problems were far more complex than what you could describe in words. Besides, you knew that Namjoon had some … form of feelings to you—so how the hell were you supposed to explain the fact that you’ve allowed your best friend to touch you in a way that a lover is meant to?

“I know.” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you bring yourself to look up at him through your eyelashes. “It’s really complicated and I don’t want to unload onto you.”

Namjoon smiles at you so gently you feel even guiltier for feeling the way you do.

“And I’m a pretty simple guy. Say anything and I’ll take it at face value.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes at him and shove at his chest. Only then do you realise how close the two of you are. When did his face get so close to yours? Why were you only realising his breath on your cheek?

It’s late, and you’re tired from the copious amount of studying so maybe that’s why your eyes involuntarily dart to his lips that were much closer to you than you’d realised.

“Can I do something?” He murmurs, and you watch his lips move when he asks.

You find yourself blindly nodding, too caught up in the moment.

Namjoon reaches a gentle hand around your jaw, cradling it so softly as if he was afraid to hurt you. A touch you’re familiar yet new to, enough for you to remember and think of Jungkook even if it’s Namjoon in front of you.

The logical part of you tells you to push Namjoon away, to not subject him to this unfair treatment when you know your heart lays elsewhere. But you’re human and you’re selfish because you’ve never been doted on like this—never looked in a way that shows you that he wants you.

Namjoon tilts your head up so that he’s looking straight into your eyes and you’re positive your face is on fire. It feels … nice. But that’s it. You don’t feel exhilarated like you did when Jungkook held you, and you curse yourself for always comparing the two.

He leans in so slowly that you’re quite literally gripping the edge of your seat. You realise this, though.

Namjoon is strategic when he maps out the journey to your lips, both careful and calm when he brings you closer like he’s been preparing for this for a long time. What you remember, is Jungkook—a spontaneous lover who smirks against kisses and tugs you closer in a rush that makes your head spin.

The two are so different, and you’re inclined to want Namjoon too. But you’ve always been a sucker for adrenaline.

But you push those thoughts away and try to focus on the way Namjoon is treating you so tenderly.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers against your lips and you feel your response before you say it.

“Yeah.” You breathe, fingers digging into your seat.

And Namjoon looks stunning up close, suave and handsome like you always knew him to be when he closes the distance.

He presses into your lips so softly that you barely feel it at first, not until he’s tilting his head to bring you closer and his other hand cups the other side of your face.

Your face is hot because he’s the second person you’ve ever kissed and it feels … it feels. You like it. That’s what you think.

You don’t dare go further than return his kiss, and Namjoon is far too gentlemanly to prod at your lips.

Your hand instinctively reaches out to wrap them around his neck, but a voice interrupts your movements.

“______?”

Immediately, you pull away—remembering where you were and how easy it was for you to be spotted locking lips with Namjoon.

You flush, turning to the source of the voice to mumble a sheepish apology until you realise who it is—and your face pales.

Not only because is it Jungkook, who’s staring at you and Namjoon with a hardened gaze. But because of the company he has.

“Cute,” Jennie smirks, arms looped around Jungkook’s and you feel your throat clam shut.

Namjoon notices the drop in your expression that you try to hide, and he reaches out to squeeze your hand in an attempt to offer consolation. He doesn’t need to guess why.

“What are you—?”

“We were about to leave, right?” Namjoon murmurs so softly that you barely catch him. Not until you realise that Jennie has her eyebrow cocked, awaiting your response.

You blink before you turn to Namjoon who’s still looking at you so gently.

He didn’t deserve this.

“I’ll go.” You say curtly, softly taking your hand back from where he’s squeezing it as you offer an apologetic look to him. All while Jungkook is still staring at you.

“Wait, ____—” Jungkook reaches out to grab at your elbow, and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been scathed.

You knew you didn’t have a right to feel this way, not when you made it explicitly clear that you needed time away from him. But you also thought you made it clear how you felt about him and he was around her … again. It’s like a bucket of cold water that’s been washed upon you and you feel like utter shit when you see Jennie smile up at you, completely oblivious to the conflict you were having in your heart.

“I’ll walk you back.” Namjoon stands up, even as you attempt to protest. But Namjoon levels you with a firm expression that has you snapping your mouth shut and sighing to yourself, begrudgingly allowing him to stand by your side; almost towering over you and even Jungkook when he shoots him a withering glare.

“I’ll do it.” Jungkook snaps back, shaking Jennie’s arm off of him.

Before Namjoon can respond, you’re doing it for him.

“There’s no need, Jungkook.” You say softly, avoiding his eyes.

You don’t have to look at him to see the fall in his face.

“I just wanted to talk—”

“There’s nothing we can’t talk about with them here, right?” You smile stiffly at him.

Jungkook pauses, hands too as they reach for your shoulder.

“It’s not what it—”

You’re cutting him off again, tired of hearing the same thing fall from his lips, “you don’t need to say anything.”

But your heart wants to stay even if your mind knows it’s a bad idea. You’re lucky Namjoon was there because he’s tugging you aside with his arms.

“Let’s go, okay?” He whispers into your ear, soft enough so only you can hear.

You nod your head, turning to leave when you feel your heart break for the same reason again. You hate that your first instinct is the hotness behind your eyelids.

“So you’re with him?” Jungkook huffs, and you can tell he’s exasperated.

You’re about to retort, but Namjoon shakes his head—turns around to mouth something to Jungkook you can’t be bothered to see before he’s leading you out the library, leaving Jungkook and Jennie there.

Right before you step out, you hear Jennie say:

“We should do a double date.”

Namjoon hears this too and wraps an arm around your shoulder as he squeezes. He’s nice enough that he doesn’t ask why you were sniffling on the walk back to your home.

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kookingtae · 3 years

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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luminnara · 3 years

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Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened.

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy.

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time.

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner.

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by.

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted.

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled.

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder.

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away.

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier.

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace.

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy.

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much.

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late.

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night.

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t.

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief.

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient.

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath.

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions.

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down.

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet, falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding.

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David.

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow.

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily.

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants.

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning.

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr.

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body.

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera.

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked.

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling.

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers.

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why.

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it.

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following.

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers.

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze.

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes.

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl.

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that.

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving.

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair.

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl.

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it.

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean.

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it.

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh.

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous.

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her.

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked.

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge?

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises.

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk.

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass.

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side.

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch.

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them.

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that.

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around.

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from?

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden.

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight.

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her.

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike.

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips.

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle.

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.”

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be.

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike.

“David’s sire,” Marko answered.

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned.

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed.

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back.

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him.

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt.

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own.

#goddamn shit sucking vampires #the lost boys #lost boys x reader #lost boys x oc #david lost boys #dwayne lost boys #paul lost boys #marko lost boys

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hazbbyhaz · 3 years

Text

sleepless || harry styles

twenty six

pairing: harry styles x OC

synopsis: an emotional night

disclaimer: nightmares, child abuse, blood, descriptions of child abuse, kissing

The mind returns in dream

-Amy Bonner

"Did you know that Queen Victoria had a 14 year old stalker who broke into Buckingham Palace at least four times?"

"I didn't know that." Harry mumbles, turning himself on his side to look at Avery. She is lying on her back, eyes trained on the ceiling, saying anything that comes across her mind.

"Apparently he even stole her underwear once!"

"Avery, we’re supposed to sleep." There was a small bat of silence after Harry’s statement. In truth, Avery had been doing everything she could to avoid sleeping, despite agreeing to rest.

"Oh right" She murmurs, closing her eyes before opening them again. "I’m sorry. What time is it? Is it morning yet?"

"It must be around 1am."

"That's not close to morning at all," Her lips start to quiver at the realization. He watches as she takes two deep breaths, shuts her eyes, and turns to face him; the quivering coming to a stop.

"can't we drink a cup of tea? I always sleep better with tea."

Harry can hear the desperation in her voice. He can see her clinging to any possible scenario that will keep her awake. Every possibility that will prolong the inevitable. She needs sleep. At this point, more than anything.

“You’ve had more than enough tea for the night. We can make more in the morning. But first, we have to sleep." Right outside the window streetlights cast ambient light upon Avery's bedroom. The golden rays dance across her face so elegantly; so gently.

Her eyes are trained on something Harry can’t see, but he is acutely aware of her. He can see the three freckles that have made themselves home on her nose, the heart shape of her lips, the cerulean blue hue of her eyes. He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

If only he could take a photograph. Try to capture this moment in its entirety, in all of its beauty. Show them how amazing these small, intimate moments are. Or maybe he didn't want that. Maybe he just wanted to keep her close. Keep this for him, and only him.

"What about my Valerian pills? They help me fall asleep."

"Love, don’t they make it worse?"

"Sometimes, but at least I'll be asleep." Her eyes finally trail up to his own. While his are calm and reassuring, hers are filled with fear. Fear that runs deeper than he could ever imagine.

"What do you dream about, Ave?" His fingers caress her cheek, he can feel her breath hitch as he gently brushes her hair behind her ear.

"I’ve never told anyone," She mutters, her eyes never leaving his own. Not for a second. "not anyone I cared about."

"Then let me be the first" With his hands on her cheeks, his eyes fall to her rosy lips. The familiar urge to kiss her resurfaces, flowing from his head to his toes. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. What they have is too delicate to risk.

From the moment that he had met her, he knew that she was alone. He has never seen her with anyone else, never seen her receive a text message or a phone call. To his knowledge, she doesn’t step foot out of her flat unless something important warrants her to do so.

Deep down, he knows that he is all that she’s got. The only person who is there for her in any true sense. The last thing he wants to do is ruin what they’ve created by giving in to his own urges.

Regardless of Harry's string of thoughts, their eyes meet. Sky blue on forest green. As Avery's eyes trail down to his lips, he slowly leans forward, pressing his lips to her own. The kiss is delicate and soft. With his calloused hands gently cupping her cheeks, Avery feels like that of porcelain. Like a fragile piece of glass someone is terrified to drop.

His hands drop from her face to her hip, pulling her impossibly closer. She grabs at his shirt, heavy breaths escaping as their lips briefly part. They are so close to one another, entangled with each other in every way they could, but it isn’t close enough.

His lips taste like earl grey tea and peppermint gum, a blend Avery didn’t know could be so addictive. Her lips taste of bitter coffee, but he doesn’t mind. They’re hers, that’s all that matters.

A few moments later Harry pulls back. He rests his forehead atop her own, leaving a gentle kiss to her nose as they both regain their breaths. Harry's thoughts diminish as he focuses on what’s happening now. The present. It’s only now that he can really see just how Avery is reacting. Her hands are latched tightly to his shirt, desperately trying to pull him closer. Harry's gentle call of her name does nothing to aid in her growing frustration.

He lets her pull him in once again, their lips reconnecting in a more heated kiss. She bites down on his lower lip, letting him know that he can continue. Harry slowly turns them over, leaning up with his elbows on either side of Avery's head, Avery laying on her back. And they kiss. Averys lips continue locking with his own because this feeling is so different from how numb she has felt. How she has been feeling for far too long.

For the first time that Avery can remember, she feels alive. Feeling Harry's lips on hers, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath her touch, it feels like home. Like comfort and safety, like last minute trips to the beach and drinking tea at house parties. It feels like everything finally coming together.

If only she could stay here for the rest of her life - stay right here, in this moment. Forever. Then everything would be alright. No worries, no mean girls, no nightmares, no sleepless nights. None of it. She would be okay. She could handle every thought spiral, every mean word, every single doubt, if she knew that she could come home to this. Know that she could feel Harry's lips on hers at the end of the day.

The small sounds Avery is emitting make Harry slow his movements down "Ave..." he mumbles in between kisses. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay… slow down, love. It’s okay.”

She can’t look into his eyes, he sees the tears welling up in them. Her whimpers only grow louder once she knows that he is aware of them, worrying him even more. In an effort to calm her, Harry starts trailing kisses down her face.

“I’m not going to hurt you… I am never going to hurt you… I don't ever want to do that.” She hasn’t said a word to him in an alarming amount of time, not letting him know what is going on in her head. His kisses trail down her jaw before pressing softly into her neck, right above her pulse point. “Talk to me, love. Please say something…”

“You will leave…” She says it so quietly that he almost misses it. But when those three words hit his ears his own eyes begin to water. He immediately stops his actions, softly cupping her cheeks in his hands. Her lips quivers once again before she whispers “I don’t want you to leave, Harry.”

"I won’t, Avery. I’m not going to leave." He reassures her, pushing another strand of hair out of her face as a few tears roll down her cheeks. "Look at me, please... I know you’re scared, I know. This is something new for the both of us, and new things are always scary."

"God I'm pathetic," Harry wipes the tears away from her cheeks, looking down at the girl below him with empathetic eyes. "I'm sorry"

“It’s okay. You’re not pathetic. If anyone here is pathetic, it’s me because I am just so smitten by you!”

Avery giggles as Harry presses one final kiss to her lips, both of them smiling into it like lovesick idiots. His arms wrap around her before turning them over, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” Avery nods her head, looking up at Harry.

"Do you promise you’ll wake me?" Her head is lying on his chest, right above his heart, and his arm is tightly wrapped around her petite frame.

"I'll wake you, I promise."

“Mommy!” I cry, hitting the cellar door with my fists. I can see a little bit of light from under the door, it shines on the staircase all the way down to the floor. I’ve been trying to get her to come here for a while, I don’t know if she can hear me.

“Mommy! it’s really cold…” I still don’t hear her. Hitting the door that many times makes both of my hands hurt. I sit up against the wall next to the door, shivering. The wall is just as cold as everything else. The stones in it hurt my back as I sit.

I got to talk to Daddy on the phone a couple days ago, and he said we would go to the park today. I really want to go, but I don’t know where he is. I don’t want to be here anymore, not with Mommy. I just want to go upstairs to my room. Sleep in my bed with all my stuffed animals and my blankie. Maybe I could stay with Daddy after the park.

“Can I please have my blankie?… Please, Mommy. It’s really really cold!” Sheepy is sitting against the wall opposite me. I grab him and hold him close to my chest. “Are you cold, Sheepy?” I pet his fur, but it’s not as soft as it used to be, and he is missing one of his button eyes. It fell off earlier today.

“Don’t worry, Daddy is gonna take us to the park soon. He promised, remember?”

There is a very loud noise and I scream as the door slams open. Before I can move out of the way, I am falling down the stairs. My head hits the wall and all it’s stones many times before I hit the bottom. I open my eyes and see the bottom of the staircase, my eyes all blurry as I cry out to Mommy. She is standing all the way at the door.

“Mommy!” I try to walk towards her, but my head is so dizzy I can barely move. As soon as I stand I fall back down again. “Please let me out… I know i’ve been bad, but Daddy wants to take me to-“

“Your Father isn’t coming today, so be quiet! For god's sake, how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” She starts walking down the stairs.

“But he promised he would…” All of a sudden I can hear a loud slap, Mommy’s hand hitting my cheek really hard. My ears start to ring as my head hits the hard concrete floor. She stands over me as I keep crying. I can see Sheepy laying on his side not far from me.

"Listen! I don't care what your father said, I need you to be quiet. Understood?"

"Yes, mommy. But can you fix Sheepys eye? Please? It fell off earlier and I can’t put it back on." I grab Sheepy and hold him out to her, she takes him out of my hand. I pull his button eye out of my pocket, keeping it in my hand. "Here's his eye."

Mommy huffs, looking at Sheepy but then she turns around and starts walking up the stairs, his eye still in my hand.

"No! NO! Mommy, the button, you have to take his eye to fix him! He can’t see without his eye! Please don't take Sheepy away from me, please!" I stand up super fast, still very dizzy, and try to walk to the stairs. But Mommy is too far away to hear me and I can’t reach her anymore. I can hear the door close; leaving me down here all by myself.

I lay back down on the floor, it feels even colder down here now. My whole body hurts. I am cold and all alone.

Avery wakes up without a sound. Everything is silent; impossibly still. The silhouette of a tree looms over the room, encasing the space in it’s dark, sinister shadow.

Hot, heavy tears stream down her face, her breath beginning to quicken. Every inch of her body hurts, every movement awakening an ache she didn’t know was there. But of course it hurts, the fall just happened yesterday. How couldn’t it hurt? No body could heal after only a few hours time from something like that. She can feel bruises beginning to bloom beneath her skin, no doubt covering most of her body.

Her anxious eyes roam over her surroundings. She is not locked in the cellar, but sitting atop a bed. It is still cold, so very cold, but comfortable and familiar. She can’t quite place it. Only now is the body laying peacefully by her side of notice to her. Harry is still asleep, his head resting mere inches from her thigh. Harry… where did he come from? Has he just arrived? Did he see the bruises?

The sound of a car backfiring rang through the silence, making Avery jump and her head shoot to the window overlooking the London street. her motion startled Harry awake, he began to stir beside her.

His eyes opened slowly, his gaze falling upon her figure. She was visibly shaking, tears streaming down her face. She looked terrified. At this sight, he was wide awake, quickly sitting upwards.

"Oh Avery, I'm sorry I-I didn't hear you-"

"My arm hurts really bad, Harry." She whimpers, cradling her left arm to her chest. "It hurts so much."

"Where does it hurt?" He carefully reaches out to her, his fingers softly brushing over her skin. To the touch, she was ice cold. No wonder she was shivering.

"Everything hurts…" Harry slowly pulls her towards him, encasing her shivering figure in two blankets before settling her body between his outstretched legs, wrapping both of his arms around her. His hands are rubbing up and down the expanse of her back, the motion attempting to soothe all the distress. Her head rests between his neck and shoulder.

"Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs," Her cries grew to hiccuping sobs, her breath irregular and too fast for her lungs to process. Harry freezes at her words.