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daryldixonfanfiction · 11 months ago

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What you fight for! Pt.4- Claimed

Masterlist

Summary: On the road Daryl is forced to join a motorcycle gang in order to survive Whether he likes it or not.

Warnings: age gape, mentions/ attempt to SA, groping, creepy men, kidnaping, angst, possessive Daryl, protective Daryl, fluff and typical twd violence and gore.

WC: 8.9k

Daryl was so tired he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, sitting in the middle of the road with his head hanging in exhaustion. He had just lost the last person he cared for and the point to keep on felt lost. It was that same heavy feeling of defeat when the prison had fallen. His newfound family was gone, his brother and then Julia. He didn't care for walkers nor the world around him, nothing matters at this moment. He just wanted to deseper, ses to exist into nothing.

He wakes when seven men surround him.

Daryl glances as one of the men thread forward, he wasn't gonna get killed by some assholes after all.

“Well, lookit here.” The man spoke.

Daryl proceeded not to move, but when the man got too close Daryl clocks him in the face, aiming his crossbow at his head. The men surrounding him pointed their guns, but Daryl showed no indication of stepping down.

“Damn it, hold up!” The man on the ground ordered.

He looked to be in his mid fifties, rugged with untrimmed hair and beard, the man was the leader of the motorbike gang.

“I’m claiming the vest. I like them wings.” A man from behind spoke, but Daryl’s only focus was on the man in front of him.

“Hold up.” The leader ordered again, and laughed as he stood to his feat. “A bowman. I respect that.” He compliments. “See, a man with a rifle, he could have been some kind of photographer or soccer coach back in the day. But a bowman’s a bowman through and through. What you got there, 150-pound draw weight? I’ll be donkey-licked if that doesn't fire at least 300 feet per second. I’ve been looking for a weapon like that. Of course, I’d want one with a bit more ammo and minus the oblongata stains.”

The abnoxes man from behind spoke again, “Get yourself in some trouble, partner?” And this time Daryl did notice him but ignored him, narrowing his eyes at the leader before him.

The leader continued, “You pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop you several times over. What you want?” No response, he continued. “Come on, fella, suicide is stupid.” Then he smiled and asked, “Why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people?......Name's Joe.” The leader offered.

Daryl knew how dangerous it was to be on your own and to be truthful he couldn't stomach the idea just after losing Julia. He knew they were bad right off the bat, but what he also knew was he would easily fit in with these types of men, because that was what he did hanging with his brother when he wasn't locked up or wherever the hell he was when he wasn't around. So he stands down, and so does Joe's men.

Daryl looks at Joe, “Daryl,” he offers his name in return and joins them. But only for the time being he tells himself.

The day went by fast, he hanged back, none of the men showed any interest in talking to him along the road, he wasn't much of a talker himself, he rather be left alone. The group reminded way too much of Merle and his life before everything was overrun, but he rather not think about that. He thought of her, of Julia, over and over again. Twisting everything that went down before losing her. Meaby If he had done something different or just been fast enuff, just maybe Julia would be here, walking by his side.

They set up camp in the wods to rest for the night.

The forest floor sadly reminded him of her, her soft snores, the little sounds she would make and how easily she found comfort in him; he had taken it for granted because he thought they would have more time. It felt like she would appear right there beside him, that yesterday was no more than a bad dream.

He didn't long for sleep to take him but neither did he want to be awake.

Daryl woke at dawn.

Unable to stand the way he was feeling, he went off to fend for himself, leaving the stuff he had scavenged on the road at camp.

It was good game for rabbits, he could tell by the tracks. Patiently waiting for the rabbit to come within shooting distance. He kneeled, steadily aiming, elining the crossbow to get the perfect shot. One steady breath and he fired. His bolt hit the target but so did someone else from behind. Daryl gets up and looks at the same man that had wanted to claim his west, holding a compound bow, giving him a smug smile.

“What the hell are you doing?” Daryl said angrily.

“Catch’n me some breakfast.”

Daryl walked towards the dead rabbit, “That’s mine.”

“My arrow’s the one that hit first. Cottontail belongs to me.” The man insisted as of fact. Daryl kneels, taking out the arrows of the rabbit and continued, “Been out here since before the sun came up.”

“You see, the rules of the hunt don’t mean jack out here. Now that rabbit you’re holding-,” Daryl tossed the man's arrow, he could care less about what he had to say, it was his and he could tell him nothing. “Is claimed, boy. Claim whether you like it or not. So I was you, I’d hand it over. Now, before you get to wishing you ain’t never even got out of bed this morning.” The man threatened.

Daryl walked up to him, closing their distance, caring himself with confident strides. He knew what this was but he could care less, he wanted simply to be done with the conversation, “It ain’t yours.” Daryl told him. But the man had sensed Daryl's sullen demeanor ever since he joined them, the man began, in knowing.

“You know, I’ll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hmm?” Daryl ignores the man's insinuation “Am I right?” The man said, smiling, Daryl gave him a glare and prosedes to walk past him.

“Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail.” He taunts, and that got Daryl to stop in his tracks, angel wings facing the man. “Must have been a good’un. Tell me something. Was it one of the little’uns? ‘Cause they don’t last too long out here.”

Daryl had always struggled keeping his temper at bay, controlling it. He could feel that dark part of him slowly coming back, that part of his past he thought he had left behind sins finding his newfound family. But they were all gone. He had tried to control it, to refrain himself from giving the abnoxes man the satisfaction of getting a raise out of him. He tried to stay calm, and at some point it seemed easier. He had been more in control of himself - hiding his emotions from enemies and friends alike. But every word leaving the man's mouth made him feel pure, burning, animalistic rage. He didn't care about the repocations his actions would have. If he wanted to rile him up, he would show him exactly what happened to those who crossed the line. The urge to simply make the man shut his fucking mouth -to inflict pain. He could see himself doing it, enjoying it even.

If Julia knew what he was thinking, what he was about to do, she would surely fear for what his hands were capable of. But Julia wasn't here, so what did it matter?

Slowly Daryl reached for his knife, unholstering it, gripping the hilt as he had become completely clouded by rage. Every muscle in his body was tense with adrenaline pumping through his veins. Daryl charged towards the man, but in the same second Joe held him back before he could even attempt to stab him and calmly stepped between the two men, breaking up the fight that was about to unfold.

“Easy, fellas, easy. Let’s just put our weapons down. See if we can’t figure out what’s really the problem here, huh?” Joe spoke with calm.

Daryl held a cold unforgiving gaze upon the man that only could be described as a death glare. The man kept smiling that shit-eting grin, his reaction had clearly satisfied him as if this was all a game. But this was no game for Daryl, If Joe hadn't stepped in the moment he did, he would be a dead man right now.

The altercation that morning had him a lot to think about. There were rules so things wouldn't get so tense within the group. As Joe had put it, "Going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. Still it is survival of the fittest. That's a paradox right there." When the members wanted to mark something as their own they said the word "Claimed." And Daryl had denied to claim anything, he thought the whole thing was stupid as he believed there were no rules no more, he had his own code of course that he followed like the law itself.

The day continued, Joe and Daryl walked along one another along a raile road with the grope infront of them. Daryl thought the leader was alright by him, it didn't mean he liked him, he could stand him and hold a conversation, though Joe was the one who mostly did the talking as Daryl was a man of few words. Their conversation shifted focus to Daryl when Joe asked,

“So what’s the plan, Daryl?

“How so?” Daryl asked in return.

“You're with us now, but you ain’t soon?”

“Yep.” Daryl confirmed looking at the ground as they walked. Joe continued trying to get a concrete answer out of him, “So what’s the plan?”

To be truthful, Daryl didn't have a solid plan yet, but now when Joe asked him he found his first thought was of Julia. He didn't know what had happened to her other than being kidnaped. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. But he had convinced himself that she was alive somewhere. Maybe her optimism had rubbed off, it wasn't like him to be hopeful, but it was what had kept him going so far. Daryl shrugged trying to find the right way to put it, without giving too much away.

“Just looking for the right place is all.”

“Oh, we ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Joe sarcastically remarked. Daryl scoffed thinking of his altercation this morning with Len, “Some of you ain’t exactly friendly.”

Joe smiled, “You ain’t so friendly yourself. You know you need a group out here.”

"Maybe I don’t.”

“No, you do.” Joe insisted. “You should be with us.”

A walker snarls ahead, the men in front take care of it and their pleasure of taking it down doesn't go unnoticed by Daryl. Joe continued, “People don’t got to be friendly. We don’t have to be nice. We don’t have to be brothers in arms. We just got to follow the rules. You claim. If you steal, you keel. I know that sounds a little funny, but nobody laughs when something goes missing. And you don’t lie. ‘Cause that’s a slippery slope indeed.”

"What happens if you break ‘em?” Daryl asked.

“Oh, you catch a beating’. The severity of which depends upon the offense and the general attitude of the day. But that doesn't happen much because when men like us follow rules and cooperate a little bit, well the world becomes ours.” Joe looks ahead to an auto parts garage aside the track and orders the grope, “Right there. It’s our abode for the evening.”

Everyone began to head towards the entrance but Daryl doesnt follow, he looked to Joe and said “Hey. There ain’t no us.” Joe turned and faced him, “You leaving right now?” Daryl doesn't answer. “No?” Joe questions him, “Then it sure seems like there’s an us.” Joe turns and heads towards the entrance, then turns again,

"Are you a cat person, Daryl?" His words made him freeze, and he looked up at Joe. "I am," Joe continued, "Loved 'em since I was three years old. Vicious creatures. Anyway, I'll tell you, and this is true. Ain't nothing sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he's an indoor cat."

Daryl thought about that for a moment before he followed the others into the building.

Daryl knew what Joe was getting at. Daryl had always told himself he was better off alone, but deep down, he knew in his heart he wasn't. The more he twisted and turned the idea, if he decided to join these men maybe it was the right thing to do. And he was gonna find Julia, he was surely gonna spot a lead of her along the roads they seemed to stick by. Daryl was never gonna tell the others of his plan, he didn't trust them in that sense. The moment he finds a leed he's going to ditch them without hesitation.

The others had claimed the vehicles as their bed for the night and his reluctance to give in to this claim thing they had going. He still thought that keepers' find mentality was stupid and therefore left him no other choice than to simply lay down on the cold cement floor. But Daryl was too tired to care, he just wanted to be in his own thoughts for a while, chewing on one of his cinnamon sticks, calming the urge for another cigarette after he had smoked some with Joe earlier that day.

One of the men approached him. It was Len. Daryl could tell he was up to no good. Ever since he had run into these guys, Len had been set on making his life hell. Len began with an accusing tone, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Christ.”

Daryl glanced up at Len from where he laid on his back and sat up fully, his attention now on him.

“Give it here.” Len ordered, stepping into his personal space.

“You step back.” Daryl said warningly.

“My half was in the bag. Now it’s gone. Now ain’t nobody around here interested in no half damn cottontail except you.” Len points an accusing finger towards the now standing Daryl. “Ain’t that right?”

“You’re the only one still thinking about that crap.” Daryl groweld back.

Len stepped towards his stuff and demanded again, “Empty your bag.” Daryl takes his bag and steps back in the same motion, creating a distance between them, Daryl warns again more firmly this time, “I said step back.” Len gives him glare. Joe interferes like last time and snatches the bag to investigate Len’s accusation and questions, “Did you take his rabbit, Daryl? Just tell me the truth.”

Daryl could feel anxiety bloom in his chest, because he knew this could gow south, though he had done nothing of what he was accused of. Liyn was strictly forbidden, if Joe decided he was guilty or suspected him he would be punished by the group or as Joe had put it,’kach a beating. And that fact alone made him even more angry towards Len.

“I didn’t take nothing.” Daryl hissed in defense.

Joe emptied Daryl’s bag on the floor, revealing the other half of the rabbit was indeed there. Daryls head snapped to Len. He fucking new that muther fucker had planted it there when he whasen’t looking.

“You put that there, didn't you?” Daryl confronted Len angrily, stepping closer. “When I went out to take a piss! Didn’t you?!” Daryl pushed Len back enuff for him to stumble back a step. But Len keeps on his accusation pointing a finger into his chest, “You lied. You stole. We gonna teach this fool or what, Joe?” Len said through his teeth like venom.

Always the calm and composed leader he was in these situations, Joe calmed, “Whoa, whoa.” Stepping between them with his attention to Len who was the most railed up at the moment, “Now, Daryl says he didn’t take your half of the rabbit. So we got a little conundrum here. Either he’s lying, which is an actionable offense, or…” Joe smiled and laughed, “You didn’t plant it on him like some pussy, punk-ass, cheating, coward cop, did you? ‘Cause while that wouldn’t be specifically breaking the rules, it’d be disappointing.”

“It would.” Len nodded in agreement, “I didn't.” he insisted.

“Good.” Joe said with a nood. He looked at Daryl and breathed, “Well…” Joe throws a right hook in Len’s face making him descend to the ground.

“ …teach him a lesson, gent’s. He’s a lying sack of shit. I’m sick of it. Teach him all the way.” Joe commands and the men begin to kick and beat Len on the floor.

Lens grunts of agony filled the garage.

A part of him didn’t agree with Len getting punished or more how he was beaten by the others, the unfairness of it. But then he turned his back, the commotion behind him. Daryl was a man of survival and knew to play his cards right. Daryl blocked the relentless kicks and grunts from the commotion behind him, laying back just like he did before Len had interfered. Everything became background noise, blocking it all out like many times before. And when the men Dragged Len outside, closing the door behind them to continue whatever they were doing, everything was quiet again.

Daryl dreamt of Julia that night, a common theme since he'd lost her. He dreamt of holding her like he never dared to do, he wished he had. But he had always been too shy to act on his feelings. So he held her just a little tighter knowing when he woke, Julia would no longer be in his arms.

In the early morning the group heeded out. Daryl was shocked to discover they had beaten Len to death and left him in a ditch outside, impaled with his own arrow. For a moment he was taken aback. He had seen cruelty before the world became what it was but it never meant it didn't affect him. Len was an asshole but this didn't feel right.

Just as he was about to cover Len's body with a blanket, just like what he had done for Julia back at the golf club, he remembered what he had done, framing him. That this would have been him, lying in a ditch, with his bolt through his eye.

Whatever pity he had felt was gone and he went along with the others, hanging back with Joe who seemed to like talking to him and to be honest he didn't mind. It distracted him from the ace that only seemed to have grown each passing day.

Passing Joe’s white lightning between them as they conversed or mostly Joe conversating as Daryl preferred to listen, but Joe didn't seem to mind, he seemed like one who liked to talk. Daryl took a swing frome the homemade alcohol,

“I ain’t been lit at dawn since before everything fell apart.” Daryl confessed.

“Fell apart.” Joe ecod. “I never looked at it like that. Seems to me like things are finally starting to fall together. At least for guys like us. Living like this, surviving. We’ve been doing this from the start, right?”

And Daryl had. He had been living in this world before walkers roamed the earth. Fighting and surviving he had done as long as he could remember, it was the only thing he really knew. Back with his group they described it as the end of the world, as if the world had stopped and their lives had come to an end. But for him it had only just begun, he was free, more free then he had ever been before. Maybe he was made for how things are now, like Julia had said that night. He tried not to think about it too much, because if he was, Julia wasn't.

Upon a road, the forest now behind them, one of the men in front looked at the road sign, “Just a few more miles.” The man informed the group.

Daryl was the last to pass the sign. He looked to Joe beside him as he grew curious, “So is that where we’re headed?”

“So now you’re asking?” Joe questioned and Daryl confirmed. “That’s right.”

“We don’t like to stay in the same place, we like to be on the move. It keeps us from losing our edge. But that doesn't mean we don’t rest our legs once in a while. I think you will like it. Last time we found a neighborhood like this one we got lucky.”

Daryl thought that made sense. Before the prison they survived going from house to house, then went on the road when they had enuff to last them for a while before doing it all over again.

“Claimed.” Daryl said before the man in front could grab the wild strawberry plant. The man said nothing and continued along as Daryl picked up the plant by the road, then shoved the lone strawberry in his mouth, “What you mean by lucky?” Daryl asked Joe.

“That got your attention?” Joe said, amused.

"Yah."

Joe continued. “You should have been there. Got our hands on a little bunny, pure as snow I tell you. They are very hard to come by these days if you know what I mean? She gave a hell of a fight but you know how women are saying the opposite of what they want, and I know she wanted it, they all do. Shure wished she lasted longer, but you know how those little ones are?”

Daryl didn't say a word, he couldn't seem to find them. Because what was there to say when someone talked so freely of such horrific actions that made you physically ill?

An unsettling feeling settled in his gut. He knew then he needed to ditch these guys, sooner than he had planned but he had to play along for now.

It’s jarring, the ringing in her ears and the sharp pain coming from the back of her head. Her eyelids felt heavy as they slowly fluttered open to darkness. The ringing in her ears fade as the hum of an engine slowly wakes her oriented body. A seat belt was strapped over her chest, her body tilted towards the passenger's side window, eyes slowly found focus of the night through the window, watching trees speed by along the lone country road, clouds were wisebulle by the moon's soft light and she tried to remember why she would be in a car but it hurt. The last thing she remembered was the prison, but then a low voice, a voice of a man she hadn't taken notice of speaks, her whole body goes rigid to the stranger beside her.

“Worried you were never gonna wake up, you took quite a hit.”

The man was dressed in a clean police attire, fully equipped. It was out of place. Groomed and was clearly well taken care of with short kept hair, his receding hairline indicating he was in his late 30s. Julia looked at the man and spoke in a small timid voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta.”

“How did I end up here?"

The man looks at her, giving her a smile she finds difficult to read, but it makes her skin crawl and her heart pound. His focus returns back on the road ahead.

“Had a lead on some guns that were pretty far out. That’s when I spotted you, wiggling in the road.

And Julia says nothing, she just stares perplexed, trying to remember past the blanks she tries to fill, but it’s all so difficult.

“Can you remember your name?”

“Julia.”

The man echoes her name to himself, he looks at her, his gaze taking her in.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He muses in an unsettling way making her avoid his lingering gaze.

But then…. She does remember something or more like someone.

Daryl

She remembers fighting a walker but then everything went black and now she's her. Clearly the hit to her head had been hard enough to affect her memory and she hoped it would all come back. Trying to process everything she looks down and blinks a couple of times before her gaze falls on the man once more and speaks more desperate this time, with the thought of Daryl in her mind.

“The man I was with, did you see him?”

The man glances at her, clenching the sterling weal enough for her to notice, but his expression does not change and he tells her without looking her way.

“You were alone.” Her stomach drops and her eyes grow wide. “If I didn’t save you when I did, you’d be dead right now.” Julia’s strong reaction goes unnoticed. “One was eyeing your thighs when I showed up. But I got there first.”

His hand travels along her thigh, feeling her over the fabric of her skirt, slowly revealing her skin underneath. She lets out a small noise of discomfort and freezes just like many times before, like when boys in school had touched her, or smacked her ass in the corridors. Freezing like a deer caught in headlights, she doesn't dare to move a muscle.

“Jacket that rotter up.” He said and Julia could hardly breath.

A sickening panic blooms in her chest that travels through her whole body. Recoiling from his touch in discomfort and disgust he only keeps on feeling her up with his fingers slowly traveling up her thigh. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to move away from the man's groping hands. And when he spoke once more she wanted to throw up, crawl out of her own skin, because his words were just as sickening as his hand on her skin, that was now dangerously close to the hem of her panties.

“It would be nice to have a pretty little thing like you. You're like a little girl. A pretty little girl. I bet your mother told you ‘don’t talk to strangers. But I’m no stranger. I’m Gorman. I wouldn't hurt you…mmmh…your skin is so nice and soft.”

Julia couldn't speak but she was screaming inside of herself for him to stop, to not be touched without consent like many before had dune. Julia's heart hammered in her ears, her breath rapid as she trembled in terror beneath his touch.

Often Julia struggled to tell the difference between good and bad people -but that look in his eyes and the unsettling way he touched her, ignites an instinct inside of herself, screaming she has to get out, she’s in danger, that this man wants to do something against her will. Her hand reached for her knife, but he of course had taken it. And she knew she could not kill him nor had the will to inflict pain to another person. She was nothing like Daryl, fearless and strong but that made her only think of him more and grew more desperate as she all but whispered.

“Please turn back, he must have made it.”

But Gorman turned angry and grounded out “As I said, you were alone! And I think you're safe here with me!”

Julia didn't know what to do, she felt so lost and scared without Daryl and she knew she had to do something. She begged again and again to stop the car, for him to turn back, to let her go. But he got so angry and aggressive towards her, making Julia turn to complete fight or flight when she for the first time acknowledged her arm was locked up in handcuffs in the car's door handle. Realizing this man had locked her up, to do what she did not dare to name, and that look in his eyes of evil and lust, Julia knew he was a sick, sick man who would and had done unspeakable things.

In an attempt to somehow stop the car she threw herself over the steering wheel, desperately fighting to take control. But he was so much stronger. The tiers made an awful squealing sound as Gorman fought against her. He looked away from the road to pull her free hand off the sterling weak but the next second everything stopped…

Daryl was hanging back as they reached their way to the rich neighborhood, big houses with overgrown yards that once had been neatly kept by the owners were now abandoned.

The plan was to slowly disappear as they began looting the area for supplies and he would be on his merry way to find Julia. But just as he was about to slip away something ahead caught his eye. And for a moment he thought he had miraculously. Somehow. Found her.

A black car with white a wight cross.

Daryl's stomach plummeted, his steps slowing down.

The others walked past the car and began to clear the first house on the block, not notesting their newfound companion lagging behind.

Slowly, Daryl approached the car, he had to know.

There were tire marks on the asphalt indicating something had gone wrong, something terribly wrong. The car had crashed into a tree, the front window was cracked and the hood was all buckled up by the impact. When he rounded the car to investigate the inside, he swore his heart stopped beating. His head was pounding and his body began to sweat. He felt so stiff, but at the same time like his legs were going to turn to jelly. He had felt this feeling before, back when he found Merle reanimated as a walker and when he thought Carol was dead.

The interior was smeared with gore and guts. Both front seats were bloodied, there were no bodies, just bits and pieces indicating there had been a walker feast, likely the same night he’d lost her.

Daryl picked up a knife that had fallen to the floorboard on the drivers side, not far from it lies the diary. With the last traces of Julia in his hand, Daryl knew enuff of what had happened.

A part of him accepted it, as all the evidence was there, but the other part of him was in denial.

Knees buckled beneath him, he couldn't feel the pain of the ground digging into his skin. He felt like throwing up, guilt pounding in his head, telling him over and over, another death was on his hands, his fault, only adding to that mental list of all the people he'd lost. It feelt so heavy he didn't know if he could stand up again. No tears were shed though his eyes were burning, it was like he couldn't cry.

Hollow and empty -he was nothing again. Because what was he when he couldn't protect the ones he was supposed to? He couldn't protect his blood, his family, his friends, his people…He couldn't even protect Julia.

All he wants is to see her again. Hear that sweet voice and tell her what his sorry ass really wanted to say. There were so many things he wished he had done differently now when he knew he had last her. He regretted the cruel way he had spoken when they got drunk, how he had been so ruff and cold towards her when all she had been was nothing but kind.

Julia was too good for this world and he was a maid for it.

Daryl could recall every moment they'd shared. He didn't realize he had become so attached to someone he had known for such a short period of time. But he had never met anyone like Julia before. Julia was the first girl who was genuinely nice to him, who so deeply cared for him. No questions asked and she was there. She never blamed him when he said cruel things, because she understood he never meant them. She was never uncomfortable to be close, embracing him, holding his hand, seeking comfort or to give him comfort, and it had all felt so good. It was like she could strip him bare with her eyes and truly see him for who he was, and that feeling, he had longed for his whole life.

Just when he began to believe in hope, even when he had lost her, he believed there was that little chance he could find her. Because that was what he did -he found people. But this was not what he had in mind.

Beneath all that hard exterior his heart aced teribully as Julia's soft voice rang in the back of his head.

"I’ll be gone someday…" "Stop…" "I will. You're gonna be the last man standing. You are. You're gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone Daryl dixon…"

If she only knew how much he missed her now.

"There are still good people Daryl…" "I don’t think the good ones survive…"

And Julia….was one of the good ones.

Daryl didn't know how to face what had just happened, finding the car the way he did. For selfish reasons he wanted to forget her -all of them. So he pretends he doesn't care, that he isn't broken once again.

Killing the cigarette against his skin, Daryl felt a sense of relief from the pain in his chest, but it lasted only for a moment. He had opted to venture to the other part of the neighborhood until he stumbled upon a few walkers in the mostly walker free eria, and it was strange as it was clear that there had been evidence there had been more just days ago. They were snarling, dragging their feet towards him from the garage door they had been banging on.

He could have easily just jogged off and they would have left him alone, but the anger inside of himself didn't let him. There was this satisfaction in his outlet when killing them, and it was a much needed relief, much like bak at the golf club.

The walker's body’s lies on the yard of the house, he scans the abandoned houses around him then looks to where the walkers had been trying to get in and heads towards the garage. Inside he realizes he's stumbled across a car, he removes the tarp of the truck and opens the hood finding the battery is missing, making him sigh in frustration slamming the hood shut. He shakes his head leaning against the hood, then notices a green refrigerator that seemed to be working. Stored batteries and containers labeled Sulf and Sid inside and Daryl knew he could get it back running again. Going back outside he finds one of the walkers carrying the key to the truck, the owner of the house was smart but not smart enough to get infected.

Going through the stuff inside he finds an All Purpose Charger and hooks it up to the truck battery. Estimating it would be fully charged in the early morning as the truck was in a fairly good condition like the battery itself. But the thing was he didn't know where he would go, did he even want to go now when he found a good truck that would take him wherever he pleased? Maby new Mexico? He had always dreamed of going there bak when he was a kid. But what was the point?

He couldn't find one.

The late afternoon sun glowed on him as he walked down yet another street until finding where the men had settled in one of the bigger houses. And why Daryl decided to join them inside, he didn't question, he just did, his body moving on its own.

The men gave him a look but didn't dare to say anything of his ruffed up appearances, it was obvious something had happened. They notest him, then went along with their business. They got the message to not ask, it was his business and it was clear this group did not not care for one another like his group had, the only thing they cared about was claiming and keeping to Joe's ‘self proclaimed rolls’.

Joe was held up defusing a quarrel in the living room and Daryl opted to one of the bedrooms upstairs, shutting the world out but his mind would not let him rest.

Daryl had lost many along the way; it was nothing new, it was inevitable. But this time was different. It hurt more, the pain was straight up unbearable. It didn't make sense why this time would be different, but it was, and there was no denying that.

Sinking into the comfort of the bed he reached for his back pocket and began to look through the diary, flipping through pages. There was an artistic streak the way she had written small poems and drawn sketches of animals, flowers and people from the prison he supposed. The writing was crooked, a little hard to read with the misspelling, but he didn't mind.

Soon the exhaustion of los had caught up to him, he fell asleep with the book over his heart with the map Marlene had given to him all the way back when she had begged him to take her, and he had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her too.

Daryl didn't know how much time had passed, the setting sun outside told him he had slept at least an hour. Comotion down stairs had escalated, something about one of the men lying and getting punished for it.

Joe telling him “his rules” was effective, putting them in line or whatever he had said seemed like bullshit. Sitting up with his legs off the bed, arms resting on his knees he could hear arguing and pleading from the man that was accused of lying.

“No, no, no please. Please, don’t. Please!"

A loud thud followed by a pained scream of the man down stairs filled the house as the others laughed in amusement. Daryl could have interfered if he wanted to, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, it wasn't his place to interfere nor his business.

“Oh, God!” The man groans in agony.

“You plan of finishing the job?” One of the men said. “Yeah. I’m getting an earache and I know he’s just gonna let his ass squeal.” Answered the other.

“After what he did, the man deserves to bleed.” The third man said.

“Y’all stay down there if you want.” The fourth man said and began to walk up the stairs to claim one of the two bedrooms left before the others could, still handling the man down stairs. The man searched the rooms until he settled for the one next door to him. The door must have been locked but eventually he heard it open and close.

Daryl opted to busy himself looking through the room knowing he wasn't gonna find sleep again. Engrossed in the impressive Metallica collection Daryl didn't pay much attention to the mens chatting frome down stairs, not hearing one of the men halloring.

“There’s a woman shaking up in here.”

Immediately it got the rest of the men's attention. Finding a newly washed shirt disappointed some, but Joe ordered them to be ready for anything in case the owner of the shirt would return and possibly cold return with others that could be a threat. The four men dispersed, Joe watched the front porch as the others gathered their guns to watch the sides from the inside of the house.

A thud from the other room caught Daryl's attention for just a second, but didn't think anything of it as no other sounds were made; he turned his attention back to some motorbike magazines. Flipping the third page there was another thud, it was distinct, more like a struggle. Strange. Then there was another voice, a faint, muffled, ‘No -coming from a woman.

There was clear sense something was not right, his gut told him so and it had never proved him wrong before. The instinctive feeling of something wrong was enough for Daryl to step out from his room to approach the door where the noise came from. Then he listened in just like he did when hunting, tilting his head he heard trashing coming from the bed inside, making him draw his knife by muscle memory, his hand was around the door knob, turning it, pushing the door open. And there was nothing that could have prepared Daryl for what was unfolding behind that door.

His world stopped.

In a span of mere seconds, Daryl went through three intense stages of emotions. From shock taking in what unfolded before him, Julia very much alive lies on the bed, with a man on top of her holding her down with one hand strangling her and the other hand groping her between her legs, as she does everything in her power to escape. Then came the realization. There was the smallest choking sound as her face was filled with such terror and fresh tears streaming down her face, making his eyes sting. Lastly, came the rage. His hand tightened around the hilt. Rage scratched at the back of his skull right at the base. Right where emotions turned to turmoil, he could feel himself giving in to that anger, that darkness. The man had almost exposed her under the skirt, her panties on soon to be ripped off. While one hand was pressing around her throat his other hand moved aggressively between her legs. The man had the most vile expression Daryl had ever witnessed, making his blood boil, vision turning red and he demands, his voice low and deadly.

“Get your fuckin hands off her.”

Julia tried to escape the man's hold, trashing beneath him with her feet, kicking and scratching fingernails in an attempt to free her throat. The lack of oxygen made her vision turn blurry, darkening round the edges, she could feel how her limbs weakened and her strength slowly leaving her.

Julia had hoped it was all just a bad dream. But there was so much pain, it hurt too much to just be a nightmare and she knew the horrifying truth…This was real. The idea to simply let it happen, to get it over with seemed like a better option at some point.

It would happen but it would be over, she told herself.

Just as Julia was about to give in to her fate, the pressure was gone and she could breathe. In and out. Fresh air filled her lungs as she gasped and coughed, fingers gently touching the sore skin on her neck. Julia struggled as she moved carefully to the center of the bed, vision returned though it was still a bit blurry she could make out the commotion on the floor in front of her. She saw the back of another man on top of the man that had attacked her just seconds ago. There was grunting, heavy breaths drawn along with the unmistakable sound of knuckles thudding against soft damaged flesh.

Julia stared wide eyed, her breaths heavy, she was no longer coughing but a hand remained on her throat. The man below the stranger didn't fight back nor move, the man had been beaten to death, a pole of blood expanding on the floor of crimson red. The stranger stood to his full height turning to her, but Julia didn't look at him, her eyes were fixed on the monster that had tried to force himself on her in the vulnerable state of sleep. As if she waited for his limp body to come back from the dead and do it all over again.

But that moment never came.

Daryl had been lost in his anger but the moment he remembered Julia was there, very much alive, he stopped. Daryl stands there watching her, she is disheveled, her beautiful curly hair is a mess, her cheeks raw and soaked in tears, and her eyes have blown wide. She was still in her skirt and camisole. She didn't notice he was standing there, and all he wanted was for her to look at him, to know he was here, that the man would no longer harm her.

“Julia.” No response, he tries again, “Julia, look at me.”

And slowly he can see her reacting to his voice, finally acknowledging his presence. Her eyes landed on his bloodied hand then the knife in his other. Their eyes met and all he saw was fear, fear of him. Panic bloomed in his chest, realizing Julia didn't recognise him, as if he was the same man as the one bleeding out on the floor. The thought of her being afraid of him was devastating, unbearable even.

Daryl didn't know the way his hair covered his eyes, the way the knife looked in his hand as the other was drenched in blood, all Julia could see was a monster. .

In Daryl's eyes Julia looked like a wounded fawn, and maybe that was what she was in that moment? And just in that way he said carefully.

“It’s me. It's just me.”

Desperately he tried again when she didn't respond, putting his knife away, his palms facing her, being as non threatening as he possibly could.

“You know me. Daryl. Remember?"

And Daryl could see the shift happening behind her fearful eyes to recognition. He didn't move, just simply stayed where he was, afraid he would only frighten her in her timid state.

Stiffly Julia crawled out of the bed, slowly but carefully standing to her feet. She felt so shaken from the way she had woken, in the most terrifying way possible. It was difficult to stand, even to draw in air. But hearing the voice she never thought she would hear again, and she had to know the man before her was him, she wiped the tears away, moving towards him.

Daryld watched her slowly approach him, and he had to strain himself not to grab her, pulling her into his arms, knowing he had to let her come to him.

Julia grabbed the fabrike of his shirt looking up where his eyes would be, covered by dark strands of hair that had fallen to a mess. When Daryl looked down, his dark pools of blue met hers and Julia knew then it was him, it was real.

Julia reached for him, both hands now grabbing at his shirt, face buried into his warm chest, his beating heart thumping under his skin.

Julia inhaled shakelly…And said.

“Daryl.”

It was fragile the way she said it and immediately relief washed over him. Finally Daryl dared to touch her, holding her close with both of his big arms swallowing her smaller form. She smelled of her natural scent, with a hint of shampoo and all the sweet things that reminded him of her. All of her was soft, welcoming and full of life, just how he remembered her, and he said softly in return.

“That’s right.” he breathed out, cradling the back of her head with a hand, “It’s me. It's just me.”

But their reunion was cut short by the men down stairs growing impatient with his absence, and the man he’s just beaten to death. The evidence on the floor and the blood on his knuckles.

Daryl knew the moment they realized what he had done, they would surely kill him, ‘teach him all the way’, like they did Len. The chilling feeling of knowing, knowing and knowing what these men had done, what they could do, knowing Julia would suffer a horrific fate she almost did just moments ago settled a sense of horror in him.

But nothing was going to happen to her, he was going to make sure of it.

Julia dried her tears once more as Daryl grabbed her pack and gray cardigan that had been thrown to the floor, then approached her feeling a sense of urgency and panic even though he stayed calm for the sake of her.

“This all your stuff?”

Julia could only nod as she put on the cardigan and Daryl noticed it was more in a need to cover herself up after being exposed in such a way she had been.

The relief she had felt dissipated the moment she recognised voices of men, coming from down stairs growing lowder and impatient.

“I thought Dan and Daryl got that.” one man said, then the other, “What the hell are they doing up there?”

Daryl listens closely to every word shared below, with his eyes never leaving her, as if she would be goon if he did.

“Get them the hell up.” Joe ordered urgently.

Julia froze in fear as Daryl turned serious in contrast to her, hugging her pack in a death grip to keep her shaking hands at bay. Julia could feel herself becoming smaller, as if she couldn't follow along with what was happening.

The gears were turning behind his eyes, then Daryl nodded to himself, a decision had been made. And he said while keeping his voice down, yet firm.

“Hey, you see that clawset?”

Julia acknowledged it across the room, but no verbal response was made. It was difficult to register when dissociation began to wash over, preventing words from forming. But she forced it down when she could feel his hands grabbing her shoulders, groundingly, pulling her both figuratively and physically back to reality.

“You’re gonna stay in there, and you don’t come out until I say, okay?”

And Julia could not say anything in return, as if she was mute. But when she heard footsteps heading upstairs she could feel that twisting feeling in her gut she had felt in the car, finding herself spacing out once more, no longer looking up at him.

“Dan, Daryl, get your asses down here!” The man heading upstairs said, but of course got no answer in return. “Yo, you hear me?!”

“They’re not gonna come anywhere near you.” Daryl firmly told her, shaking her by her shoulders, “Look at me.” It was an order, an order that demanded attention. “They're ain’t gonna come anywhere near you. All you gotta do is stay put, stay quiet and don't come out until I say. Can you do that for me?

Julia stairs and stairs, pleading with her eyes for something -she didn’t know. It was about seconds before the man would enter and time was running out, she knew. But Julia didn't want to be without him, to be separated. But at the same time she knew it was something she had to do.

Even though she was scared, scared out of her mind she reletend. To do what he had asked of her. Julia trusted him with her life. Before she moved, to hide, Daryl’s hand cradled her face affectionately, as if he needed to touch her, to remind himself she was indeed there, what was at stake. His thumb moved, caressing her cheek gently as he provided, softly.

“Good girl."

If the situation had been different, Julia was sure she would have smiled in return.

Never had Julia seen the look Daryl had in his eyes as he had now. It was worrying, it went beyond protecting her, and it looked like he was -well like he was about to do something very terrible, and she knew there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

His touch didn't last long as he urged her to hide. When she was consumed by darkness in the safe space of the closet, Julia wished she had said something more than simply his name.

There was now way of telling how much time had passed.

The screams and the fight from down stairs had stopped and Julia wasn't sure she wanted to know what Daryl was doing, what he had done. Knowing Daryl could beat a man to death with his bare hands, Julia knew that was probably what had happened and it made her feel -well, she didn't really know.

The house was completely silent, it was unsettling in a way, not knowing if Daryl was alright, or hurt. Even though she had been told to stay put, she couldn't. The silence was too unnerving, making her leave the safe space of the closet, stepping out into the bedroom, cracking the door open, Daryl had closed when leaving.

“Daryl.” Julia called out, “Daryl, are you alright?”

Then there was movement down stairs, sounding as if something heavy was being dragged across the floor.

"Stay! Don’t come down here!”

His order made her flinch, he wasn't angry but it was clear he didn't want her coming down. Julia assumed it had something to do with the unmistakable dragging on the floor. Doing as she was told once more she stayed put, and she couldn't help but stare at the dead man on the floor. She was still coming down from what had happened, welding herself to get it together. Crying was not gonna make it better and she was no child, she was a grown woman, it was time she acted as such.

Drying the evidence of her face as she sits on the floor, Daryl emerges, wearing a different jacket and a red machete attached to his belt. And Julia couldn't help but stare as Dary was - well. Covered in blood.

Pt.5 Masterlist

#apocalypse #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #fanfics #twd fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #whatyoufightfor!

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sadvid · 6 months ago

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camp camp makes me insane ramble. do not click more unless you are so so very insane

camp camp is gonna make me go fucking insane i can't fucking do this anymore there is NOTHING!!!!!! NOTHING!!!! ALL THEY DID WAS GIVE US TINY PISS DRRROPLETS WITH ONE EPISODE FINALE SAYING MAXS PARENTS DONT CARE AND DAVID SAYING YOU DONT DESERVE THAT AND NOW IVE BEEN IN THE TRENCHES FOR YEAAAARSSS. i have read fics with over 100k words i have drawn so many things and imagined so many scenarios with angst and hurt/comfort and stupid stupid thoughts that would never ever happen in the show in a million years HIS ASS IS NOT GETTING ADOPTED DADVID IS NOT REAL GWENVID IS A SICK JOKE i love them so much you don't understand. i forgot to take my meds. oh my goddddd. THERE ARE LIKE THREE CAMP CAMP FANS LEFT BECAUSE THE REST WERE NORMAL PEOPLE WHO JUST WATCH THE SILLY CAMP CARTOON THAT SAYS FUCK. they dont wonder about the possibilities of a sad ten year old rejecting happiness but slowly allowing himself to be vulnerable and loved by a counselor who is surrounded by hate and despondency but stays positive despite despite despite because nobody else will and he wants to be the source of happiness that he wish someone was for him. NO! they say HAHA the ten year old said fuck! oh my god the non swearing counselor said fuck too that's so profound! oh no the ten year olds parents bad :( HAHA NOW HES BALD!!!! and after a month of the show being gone they LEAVE because they're NORNAL!!!!! but i. I AM IN THE TRENCHESSSSS. you have no idea you have no idea. listen maybe i'm just a little insane because i am a max who needs a david JUST MAYBE! and i think this is just a lot of me projecting my desperate need for love and my simultaneous rejection and fear of it onto max. And my need for someone to keep persistently and loudly loving me no matter how much i reject it. PROBABLY!!!!! i don't care i don't care how fucking insane i sound I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY I COULD talk about this show for hours i wish i didn't have job or school or life so i could write and anímate camp camp season 6 7 8 9 10 infinity and kill the warner brothers and write 500k word ao3 fics. IM INSANE. i am picking up crumbs and calling it a wedding cake do you understand. god i'm i i i i i i i i it's 2024 it's been too long too many years of this.... too many got damned years. every time i pick up a pencil i draw max camp camp. i have drawn david's stupid fucking face so many times its probably become the shape of my brain wrinkles. i go feral thinking about gwen's hair looks like down or what the fuck these characters last names are. Can you fucking believe i hyper fixated on a character whose last name i dont even know. hey who's that small angry fucker you're always doodling. uhh max. max who. max... camp camp. WHO?!!! DAVID?!!? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH?!?! MAX CAULFIELD?! i'm going to set myself on fire. i really truly am. i love them i live for nothing but a ghost child on an island and a silly friend trio. when will it end. when. i love them if you couldn't tell

#camp camp

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wooldamenace · 29 days ago

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Better People- (Samily Until Dawn)

romantic tension, fluff, light angst, possible gay thoughts, over 1.2k words

The mines were wet and cold, too cold for Emily's liking. Right now she needed something warm, something comforting not these damned mines. Nor the puddles ruining her designer boots.

The mines would breathe with her the frigid air heaving as she inhaled. In and out in and out. She didn't want this, to be curled up in fear after all she went through.

She wanted to apologize. She really did. She didn't mean to slap Ashley, at least not that hard. All she could do was mouth a quiet ‘sorry’. Then she felt it, hands on her shoulders.

Samantha Giddings. Her hands were sudden, but never unwelcome. Emily couldn't bring herself to look into Sam's silver eyes. They were glaring at her pointing.

“Em? Are you okay?” Sam's voice cut through her thoughts.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

Emily can't even respond. What even is the logical reaction for something like this? Getting a fucking gun pointed at you like you were a criminal.

Sam's hands examined the bite mark on Emily's shoulder. It didn't look that bad now that everyone had their head screwed on right.

As Emily, Sam, Chris, and Ashley conversed around this barred up safe room of the mines the wind of the caves got colder. Emily felt a hand pressing to her cheek. Sam.

“Em? Okay, your temperature is normal.” She sighed quietly, “Chris, hand me the first aid kit.” Sam ordered the boy around, and before Emily knew it she was being patched up by Samantha.

“It doesn't look half bad I'd say.” Sam says, trying to lighten the mood as she always did.

Em couldn't stop, she couldn't stop the tears as she cried and apologized, Emily rarely cried. She only cried under two circumstances, she was alone, or she was hurt and alone, and right now she was just hurt.

“I'm, I'm sorry. Ashley I didn't mean t-to…”

She felt Sam wipe away her tears with her dri-fit hoodie. Emily couldn't only look at Sam through her tear glazed eyes, and Sam would keep wiping them. As Emily sniffles she tries to wipe her distraught away.

“Hey, hey don't wipe those, I don't want your jacket getting more ruined then it already is…” Sam said.

Everything was blue, maybe it was the tears, the possible frostbite, the shock finally setting in but everything to Emily was distorted, but no one could blame her, she had a gun shoved in her face by a man who not even a few hours ago was begging for Emily to get back together with him. Michael Munroe was an asshole, a stupid asshole who thought with his dick.

As Sam mentioned to go look for Mike, Emily followed her friend close behind begrudgingly. She didn't want him to die, but maybe they could have waited a bit longer. The group struggled behind Sam who was practically meant for climbing mountains and cave diving or whatever it was called. Emily had no idea how Sam was not wheezing for her life as she helped the injured Chris down ledges and up rocky walls with ease who was obviously heavier than her.

As Emily slipped, Sam had caught her. “Jeez, Em we gotta get you more shoes with actual traction on them.” Sam joked around a bit, causing Em to laugh. She hated Sam's stupidly cute quips, with how long she's known you she should've gotten used to it.

Sam's toned arms wrapped around Emily until she regained her balance. Jeez Louise, was Sam always this pretty? Samantha the girl who draws in the margins of her notes for fun? Little miss moral high ground? No, definitely not. It's the gratitude, the reaction of someone still attempting to be so level headed in a space of a massive fatal situation that's what's attractive, not Sam. No way. Not the way she barely breaks a sweat spelunking down these damned mines, maybe that's a little sexy, but anyone would find that sexy.

But Em has more things to worry about like if she was going to make it out alive, rather than the girl who's saved your life multiple times tonight is starting to look a little too attractive. It's definitely the cave fumes getting to her. All the old miner's dust and grime making her all woozy.

Em felt the water of the cave seep into her boots. Dammit those were expensive, and real cute too. Now the idea of trench foot was on the table? These boots were a lot, she saved up for them just for this little retreat, maybe to make herself look like she was doing great. Even though she wasn't, inside she was all jumbled up, scared, guilty, angry, and who knows what else.

“Sam?” Emily whispered as she walked along behind Sam while Ashley and Chris walked behind them.

“Yeah?”

“Are you not freezing?”

“Trust me, I am… these leggings are killing me.”

They duo stayed quiet, as if to be cautious of the creatures from the mines, listening for its long and quick strides, as it could teleport from place to place.

“Borrow my jacket.”

“Emily, no.”

“Sam-”

“I am fine. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

Sam stopped walking for a second as if she was frozen, stuck looking for an answer. She knew she wasn't okay. She came back to this mountain for one reason and one reason only, to get some fucking closure. Not this. Sam should be asleep in a bed, or relaxing in the Washington family lodge in front of the fireplace. In a perfect world, Sam would be sketching in her diary, while her friends played a drinking game.

“I don't know.”

“Listen, I'm sor-”

“I know, and so am I. We're shitty people. Makes me think this is just karma.”

“Sam,” Emily placed her hand on Samantha's shoulder, the usually neat blonde hair of Sam, getting a bit frizzy and messy. “If I could change the past. I would've.”

“So would most of us.”

“I know.” Sam shuddered due to the cold frigid air of the cave. “If we get back to the lodge safely, I'm gonna need a good sleep.” That comment caused Emily to genuinely laugh, the first one in a while.

“You know, you're funny sometimes Sam.”

“Sometimes? Ouch my ego.”

“You know what I mean. You ease the tension. You try your best to keep everything and everyone together. Makes me realize I shoulda been a better friend to you.” Em confesses quietly, as if she's been sitting on that for a hot minute, as if she held it on after this night she'd die with that in her.

“I should've been a better person to you too.”, Samantha says, holding Emily's hand in her own,“Maybe we can start to be better people?” Her voice breaking as if that's all she needed right now.

“I'd love to be a better person with you, and I guess the rest of our friends too.” Emily said, but mainly Sam. She had to make it up to her somehow. Emily was responsible for causing so much pain for Sam, Josh, the Washington family, everyone, and now it's time to get better.

“Don't say it like that, you wanna be a better person for all of us.” Sam said optimistically.

“Mhm yeah, sure.” Emily groaned lovingly as Sam hugged her.

“I can't wait to see the better person you become, Em…”, and that sentence was enough, it will always be enough.

Emily smiled, a real fucking smile. With tears running down her face, the liquid left trails as if it was burning her to cry.

“I'll be better. I swear.” Emily said as they continued walking. Even if they didn't make it out Sam could tell that Emily was going to be the best version of herself she could be.

Have a great day guys! xoxo - Wool

(This was part of my commissions I'm opening up soon! I'll be posting more info on that!)

#until dawn #emily davis #samantha giddings #samily #fluff #slight angst #oneshot #wools commisions

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bellamyblake · 10 months ago

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Fine by dusk

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Smut, Angst, A/busive Relationships, veteran Bellamy working construction, Nurse Clarke;

Words: 15,415

Bellamy and his contruction crew are hired to fix the Griffin manor's back porch and garden. Clarke's stuck in an abusive marriage with Finn who's dream is to have the perfect family life so he could rise through the ranks, become mayor, then perhaps even senator and he doesn't care what he has to do to get it. Meanwhile Clarke feel sad and uncertain of what is even happening to her anymore. That is until she lays eyes on Bellamy Blake.

Bellarke Christmas exchange, written for @dark-scape

"I love it." she admitted "Used to want to go to art school."

"Why didn't you?" she shrugged and looked down at their hands that were so close to each other that all she wanted to do was take his fingers in hers and never let go of them.

"I don't know...mom wanted me to go to medschool and I did grow to love being a nurse."

"But your true passion is drawing?" she hummed and he picked up her chin with his hand, putting their faces really close to each other again. "You should keep up with it."

"I only started drawing again recently." she didn't tell him it had all to do with him but judging by the cocky smile he got on his face, he read right through her.

"Oh yeah? Was there any reason why?"

"I got inspired again." she admitted and decided to tease him as she pushed closer and now their noses touched while her hand reached over to his middle where she put the stethoscope earlier. He reached to put his beer aside and take his leg off the table too, coming in even closer to her. Two could play this game and she was intent to show him that.

"By what?" he asked and she smiled as she snuck her hand under his shirt for a brief moment and grazing his ribs with her nails. His stomach jumped, so did his dick in his pants that were getting really thight for him.

"I have no idea." she said innocently as she pulled away and made his breath hitch again. "What about you? Any passions?" she picked up the plates from the table and went to the sink where she threw away whatever was left in them and turned the water on. Bellamy wasn't stupid-he understood the signs clearly, she wanted this as much as he did and they were simply fooling around right now, playing their game.

He got on his feet and limped to the counter where he leaned on it from behind and trapped her so that she couldn't move. He leaned into her ear and whispered.

"War. I've always been good at it." he admitted. Her breath hitched and she dropped the plate she was holding as the water kept beating on it. When he pushed a bit harder from behind her, rubbing his half-hard dick against her butt, she gasped and he reached to tuck a strand of hair fallen on her cheek, behind her ear. "That and...history. Writing. I like that."

"So you're a writer?"

"Used to be. Overtime I just got better at holding a rifle as I said. Some people may find it to be fucked up but..." he let his hand fall to her side and he quickly snuck it under her arm, so he'd be able to cup her breasto over her thin shirt and make her move on her toes and press hard against his body.

"It isn't." she looked back at him and he smiled at her as he looked down on her. With his good hand he reached out and turned the tap off, then he placed it on her lower stomach, close to her crotch and pushed her harder against his body, rubbing his dick up and down her crack a little without breaking eye-contact with her. "Maybe you should pick it up again." she offered, gasping for it. Her hand flew to his wrist, desperate to hold onto something and he just smiled devilishly again. She hadn't felt that hot and aroused in...maybe ever, she was already pathetically dripping in her panties, so bad, she just wanted to touch herself and his cock pressing against the crack of her ass made it worse despite the fact that it was all happening with their clothes on.

"I don't know...I found a new hobby lately. I think you and I share it." he whispered as his other hand worked to find her nipple and pinch it between his fingers while his other hand went lower to cup her crotch through her jeans. She wasn't sure if he could feel the wetness there already but his eyes widened a little which meant he probably could.

"What's that?"

"Undressing at the window every night and making me go crazy about you." he whispered before he finally leaned down and kissed her.

Clarke lost any ground she had and almost collapsed in his arms-this felt like nothing she's ever done. His lips were so soft against hers and his tongue didn't just move uncomfortably in her mouth, desperate to do something like Finn's did, no...he just kissed her slowly, wanted to become one with her and allowed her the chance to also take charge if she wanted, which she did.

#bellarkeedit #bellarke fanfiction #the100edit #bellamyblakeedit #clarkegriffinedit #bellarke fanfic #bellaarke #the100daily #modern au #smut #christmas fic #i know im late but they gave us until the end of january #also this will have a second part #it's mostly...smut #and some pain sadness and less plot #finn is awful what's new #clarke and bellamy are hot af #my writing

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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 2 years ago

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Lucifer — I really hate your face

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4

CW: enemies to lovers, lucifer hates you lol (part 1), slight angst (part 3), he insults u in his mind multiple times (part 1)

Nuisance.

If there ever came a time Lucifer was asked to describe you, he would describe you as a nuisance. Another inconvenience to add to his already growing pile of problems.

The moment Lucifer found you snooping around the stairs leading to the attic and he had to threaten you to keep you away from it, he already knew you would be a more giant headache than he initially thought you to be—which was proven to be a fact when Beelzebub had revealed to him that you encouraged the orange-haired demon to hide a certain angel in your shared bedroom that time.

Lucifer wouldn't go so far as to say that he hates you, that's a word that he can't just throw around lightly, and he did genuinely feel bad for possibly traumatizing you when he attacked you that time, but he is in no way fond of you either.

In fact, a small part of him wishes Diavolo hadn't shown up then, wishes he could get rid of you one way or another, perhaps, make it seem like an accident. But alas, that can't be as it would be the Demon Prince's reputation that will be dragged through the mud if something were to happen to the human exchange student.

And so, Lucifer swallowed his complaints. In a way, this was also his fault for not thinking the selection through, it was his fault for just picking up a paper that flew away and deciding that this person would be their exchange student. He can't help but want to smack his past self upright in the head for being so careless.

The Avatar of Pride can look past your previous mistakes, and chooses to look past your previous mistakes, but now that you've involved his brothers in your scheme? He can't help but feel his blood boil at the thought.

Lucifer wasn't a soft-hearted demon by any means, but he was extremely loyal, and his loyalty lies with his brothers, whom—even though he doesn't show often—he loves more than anyone and anything in the three realms.

Now, he knows he can't exactly do anything to stop it as his brothers all have their own free will, but he doesn't like the idea of you, his newest headache, charming his brothers one by one into forming a pact with you. Your reasoning for this?

Apparently, you want to gain Lucifer's respect by proving yourself through making pacts with his brothers.

Upon finding out about this, Diavolo had stars in his eyes and a wide grin of amusement on his features, he let out a joyful laugh and gushed about how happy he was that you have found a goal to achieve during your stay in the Devildom.

Lucifer, however, calls bs on your so-called 'reasoning'.

If you truly wanted his respect, there are other ways to go about earning it without involving his brothers. A suggestion of his would be for you to stop poking your nose in other people's (or demons') business and be less of an annoyance than you already are. But to bring his brothers into this? He certainly doesn't have a good feeling about the whole thing (though, he also considers that this unsettling feeling may just be because he doesn't like you).

You know what? He changed his mind, Lucifer would go as far as to say that he hates you, despises you, even, and that he can't wait for this school year to be over for you to go back up from that dirt of a planet you came from and never show you stupid face to him ever again.

He's well aware that humans are capable of producing intelligent and cunning offspring—Solomon is an example of that—even so, he's also now aware that humans are capable of birthing fatuous beings such as yourself that he can't help but feel a bit bad for the feeble race.

The demon lets out a sigh, the muffled sound of laughter coming from outside of his office drawing his attention away from his paperwork and towards the direction of the noise. He scowls, he doesn't even need to exit to know that it's you spending time with his brothers once again.

He hates you.

He hates how you have his little brothers wrapped around your pretty little finger, that you can literally make them bow down to you, kneel in front of you and lick your shoes if you so wish. His anger brought on by these thoughts made him snap the pen that was in between his fingers and he lets out another sigh, his crimson eyes tracing the exploded ink on the paper, on the table, and on his pale fingers.

You're planning something. That much, Lucifer is sure of. You're planning something and he'll be damned if he doesn't figure it out and put a stop to it before you can go through with that stupid plan of yours.

And for the next few days, Lucifer suddenly started popping up in places you happen to be. In the classroom? He's suddenly seating behind you. Walking through the halls of RAD? He's passing by you while discussing important things with Diavolo. Playing games in Levi's room? Lucifer is suddenly barging in to remind Leviathan of his chores.

But you didn't think much of it. You did live under the same roof, after all, and went to the same school. You were always bound to cross paths with him more often than you'd like.

So it wasn't a surprise either when you heard him coughing behind you in the kitchen while you were looking in the fridge for something to snack on, your stomach grumbling after Beel ate your share of dinner (he thought it was Mammon's plate he was taking from and offered you his own plate when he saw the horrified look on your face at the little serving left for you)

"It's already past curfew, isn't it?" Lucifer spoke, and you swear there's poorly hidden malice lacing his words with suspicion, "What are you doing?"

"Ah!" you gasp in surprise at his appearance, turning to look at him while taking a step back from the fridge and closing it. You smile warily at him, waving your hand in front of your face in a swift motion.

"Nothing, nothing! I was just.." you tried to think of an excuse, but could only sigh in defeat when you realized you didn't have one. "I was hungry."

Lucifer hums in response, his eyes scanning you from head to toe as if he was looking for something.

"Would you like to join me for a midnight snack, then?" He offers, his gaze meeting yours as he gives you a smile.

His crimson gaze bores through you, staring right into your soul, and in contrast to the warm color of his eyes, he looks at you with such coldness that you had to suppress a shiver from going down your spine. His smile reminds you that of Satan's; fake, but extremely convincing, only much worse now that it's coming from the source material himself.

You tried to read through his emotions, tried to gauge out what he was planning, if he was mad to catch you outside of your room in such an ungodly hour. But as usual, Lucifer kept his cards close to his chest, with you being completely clueless as to what might be going on inside that mind of his. You've always been wary of interacting with the eldest—the way he usually knows of things that he shouldn't scares you, and you always feel naked under his intense gaze.

Crimson eyes gazing through you, through your thoughts, feelings, you feel like he can play you like a fiddle if he so wishes. Perhaps, that was just what it truly feels like to be face to face with the morning star himself. God's favorite son. The one courageous enough to lead a rebellion against his own father—his own creator.

"Surely you haven't fallen asleep while standing up, eyes widen open and staring at me, have you?" His mocking voice cuts through the silence in the kitchen, effectively pulling you out of your own thoughts and back to reality.

"Oh- uh.." You spoke, just to let him know that you are still here, still listening, still thinking his offer through.

It's not news to you that the eldest brother isn't fond of you, not at all. You've received his sharp glare one too many times, and he seems to lose his patience and temper more often when it comes to you making mistakes than he does with his brothers—sometimes, you feel like you're one wrong inhale away from being hung upside down just like Mammon.

That being said, it made you wary to know that the demon that hates you, who also happens to be one of the most powerful beings in this realm, is suddenly asking you to spend time with him. Just the two of you. Alone.

Your survival instinct is yelling at you not to, that you should just politely decline him and be on your merry way back to you room. Put this evening behind the both of you and act like it never happened in the morning.. but then, you remembered your mission. Your goal.

A demon locked me here.

You're the only one who can help me.

You let out an internal sigh at the reminder, swallowing your own fear and uncertainty before looking up, your eyes meeting Lucifer's as you spoke with utmost confidence, as if you aren't fearing for your life at the current moment.

"Sure," you responded, a smile stretching your lips, "I would love to."

"Excellent,"

Lucifer loved that too.

#obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years ago

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Hi! Uhh... How do you think Nathan would be like when he realizes he's in love with you BUT you're totally oblivious about it? And to make the matter worse, you're crushing HARD on that cute guy he's brought in a few times because of... Err... Research assistance and Nathan's just... Losing his shit?!

Maybe perhaps if you could like write an HC...??

Lotsalove!! ♥

Warnings: V light angst, fluff

You're not stupid, so you must be playing dumb.

Right?

Nathan's never met anyone whose intelligence he regards as highly as yours.

So all of those 'subtle' sidelong looks—

All of those brushed-off dinner invitations—

All of those wide-eyed, fascinated replies to the research associate's invitations—

They must be for show.

It's entirely within the bounds. That's the problem.

Maybe you're acutely aware of the associate's interest, and not of Nathan's.

Maybe you're more interested in him, and not in Nathan.

Hypothetically, that's a possibility.

Logically, it's a statistical improbability.

Damon is incredibly useful to Nathan.

A research assistant, he frees up the time that Nathan would typically devote to research.

But he's also someone that you seem to actively be interested in spending time with—

Working, dining, camping, hiking—you name it, and Damon's doing it, you're there.

They're things that Nathan has been doing, but haven't resulted in the same level of your interest.

He could fire Damon.

Ohhhhh, he's thought about it.

But weighing his interest in you, your seeming interest in Damon, and the amount of work Damon takes off of Nathan's plate, it's just not economical.

So he keeps Damon on, and he keeps his goddamn mouth shut when you make fucking goo-goo eyes at his senior Research Associate.

Maybe he hasn't been clear?

Maybe Nathan's been too subtle.

That seems unlikely, considering the fucking hoopla that's he's thrown for your birthdays and work anniversaries.

You get flustered then, too.

You go quiet and nervous when Nathan heaps interest on you.

When Damon does, you make a big show of it.

When Nathan does, you seem to brush it off.

So when this year's work anniversary rolls around, Nathan makes little of it.

It's vindicating to see you confused.

During the morning briefing, Nathan feels the odd gaze thrown toward him. He doesn't answer to it.

When you ask Nathan if there's anything else he wants to cover anything else in status, and he says no, he's vindicated by the brief confusion and disappointment that flickers across your expression.

He gives Damon a task that'll last him the next 36 hours.

And midway through the day, Nathan invites you to dinner.

When you turn up, Nathan is further vindicated and softened by the way your expression cheers and warms.

You're both talkative and bashful throughout the evening, drawing back now and again, as you seem to remember who you're with.

As the the two of you settle in for an after-dinner drink—

"Should I have invited Damon?" Nathan asks.

You shrug, leaning back in your seat. "He's nice."

"Nice?" Nathan repeats. "What about him is nice?"

"I dunno, he's just...He's personable."

"I'm not?"

"Do you want me to answer that truthfully?"

Nathan smiles at your question. You both fully aware of his answer.

"Anyway," You add. "It's...Nice to spend some time with you. I didn't think you liked to spend time with me anymore."

Nathan's brow furrows.

"Why would you think that?" He asks.

"You were inviting Damon to, like, everything. I thought you were adding a buffer."

"I wasn't buffering."

"Whatever, Nate."

"I wasn't!"

You don't answer, just raise your glass to your lips.

Nathan sets his glass side, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

This is a bad idea. His hackles are raised by the way you freeze, fingers stiff in his grip.

"I've only ever wanted alone time with you," He admits. "None of the bullshit babysitting duties with Damon."

"Those were half of my duties when he got signed on."

Nathan lowers his eyes to your joined hands, thumb absently swiping across your knuckles.

"I can loosen up next time," He offers.

"Wasn't so bad," You admit. "Now I know how I am in a mentor relationship."

Mentor. It makes Nathan's ears prick up.

"...Mentees don't get invited to anniversary dinners," He warns.

Before you can answer, Nathan gets up, scooching his seat around to rest beside yours.

He seems to go bashful beside you, even as you duck your head, fingers smoothing over the stem of your champagne glass.

"...So,"You mumble, "What do you have planned for my next anniversary dinner?"

Nathan leans, lips brushing your cheek. "I've got a few ideas."

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #asks #replies #anon

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deutoplasmic · 3 months ago

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smug takeru will be the end of me like hes sOOOO happy even if you swear to never speak of the shack again it wont stop you two from. stealing a few kisses when no ones looking 😶 YOU HATE HIM THOUGH YOU SWEAR!!! even when he gives you,,, soft forehead kisses after you bicker,,, or he kisses your hand before saying goodbye IM SO GRRHRJDJDJDJD

PLSSS OMG MIMIKYU,,, yea fengfan’s fighting for his LIFE in his mind hes so down bad for you,,, you walk up to him with a phantump you just found like “phantump say hello to 凡凡 this is your new dad” and fengfan swears hes so red he’ll explode

HOLDING HANDS WITH RUKI PLSSS he tries to act calm but youll just see him avoiding eye contact and only looking your way to look at your hands touch and freak out again 😭 HES SUCH A CAT alolan meowth is so perfect for him omg

MASAYA’S HONEY SHOP,,, will literally give free honey to any lil kid or pokemon,,, and the full bottles are shaped like his partner teddiursa I NEED TO DRAW THIS I NEED TO DRAW ALL OF THEM

OMG AYUTA AS AN APPRENTICE 😭 and compared to junki his singing partners would be like,,, softer like chingling,,,, and junki is so happy with his growing family he gets everyone matching bowties,,, and ofc free poffins even for ayuta (who is. mildly confused but hes accepted that junki is a bit strange)

PLSSS KYO GETTING YOU ALL THE SOUVENIRS,, he kept the malasadas chilled with his new bergmite friend,,, you guys can have a meal in front of your house and catch up,,, man kyosuke looks so good in natural lighting with his hat off I MEAN WHAT-

SHO AND KOSHIN ARE SO CUTE LIKE,,, and koshin is definitely trying to set him up with someone like “you dont want someone who can look after the daycare with you for the rest of your life till death do you part? 🥺” and sho is like “ahahahaha i mean,,,” (hes worse at rizz than he looks)

omg taichi with a hitmontop,, or a sandslash,,, AND OMG RAN WITH A SCIZOR YOURE SO RIGHT!!!! SHE WOULD BE ALL TOUGH WITH ONE LIKE ALL THE STRONG COOL FEMALE GYM LEADERS,, i need to write this all down i have to draw all of lapone with pokemon now,,,

LMAO NOT KUMI BECOMING WANTED BY PROXY 😭 hes so confused the whole time,,, but it does feel nice when you pat his head after he pilots the ship well,,, and maybe thats all that matters

LMAODKDJDJ THANK YOU i think ill upload it after i send this ask in!! have no idea what the caption will be yet but. ill make smth up

and @ the tags,, i get you omg my friend was sociogramming and writing down f (friend) and a (acquaintance) next to people and i was like. does that mean fluff and angst LMAODJDKDHDKDJD THE BRAINROT

every time you guys k*ss you make sure to remind him after that he's still a stupid annoying ratbag or whatever but he KNWOS whats inside your heart!!!!!!!!!!! you cant hide from him forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you're never going to fully admit it but what's that he keeps coming over a lot? yeah nahhhh he just wants to bother you like the menace he is (mame is frantically updating jin he can't believe his eyes is it REAL)

god fengfan is 5 seconds away from combustion!!!!!!!!!! the 凡凡 will have him kicking his feet desperately when he thinks abotu it later that night... he even finds a lil pumpkaboo for you for the matchign duo and GOD he almost loses it when you smile at him and say youve got twins now!!!!!!!!!!! he thinks he deserves an award for not exploding whenever you talk to him but also he's so grateful for the privilege. so

YOURE SO RIGHT FOR THIS he prolly has super clammy hands.... cold sweat on his palms........... youre like ruki do you need to wipe your hand and hes like NOOOOOPE whilst subtly scrubbing them on his pant leg LOL... he gets so nervous that his meowth uses pay day bc coins calm it down and maybe it'll work for ruki too! but actually it just looks like his wallet exploded and dumped coins on the ground so he's dying from embarrassment whilst you just pick up all the money for him :rofl:

HONEY BOTTLES SHAPED LIKE TEDDIURSA YOUR BRAIN IS SO MASSIVE FOR THIS. SO MASSIVE. omg his table is made out of maple wood stained a cute yellow that like. his friend ayane made or smth. and its draped with a honeycomb patterned tablecloth keigo made............ all of his little samples are in small jars the size of like tealights which are wrapped with small squares of the tablecloth fabric and twine around it for security.....

YOURE SO RIGHT one day they go out to the meadow to sing bc junki declares it perfect cutiefly spotting weather. yes ayuta tells him that theyll probably get poked by them but junki doesnt comprehend that. and for some reason meloetta shows up??????????????????? both of them refuse to try catching it bc that would be such an injustice. but. wow. theyre dumbstruck. AND THE MATCHING BOWTIES ARE SOOOOOO CUTE its insane........ and yeah. ayuta has accepted his fate in silly goose club LOL

OH MY DAYS youre so right he pulls out some tropius fruit from his satchel to share with you........ and his eyes are so shiny and hair so pretty in the sun i mean wait what huhhhhhhh ALSO HIM HAVING A BERGMITE IS SO REAL oh my days .... he probably delivers smth to like fengfan at some point who also has a frigibax and it starts bickering with the bergmite LOL

koshin can be devious when he wants to be LOL but omg im such a supporter of the confident sho totally lost for words and confidence around his crush theory like . hes charismatically explaining smth to some of the trainers looking at his daycare with all his smooth charm and you waltz in and hes like uh um uh uh well uh sorry uh yeah um uh huh

taichi sandslash would be so CUTE omg wait he also has like. a minun who is such a cutie and keeps cheering for them.... which is severely boosting ken's ego LOL and yeah omg..... love ran............ she probably specialises in steel type pokemon and there are a bunch of klinks and bronzor hanging aroudn the entry. she's taking care of a shiny aron at the moment and it's due to evolve any time soon....!!!!!

YEAH omg he takes you to meet his mechanic buddy hiroto one time after you need to get some part replacements and hirotos like wow takumi they must be really worth it to change sides of the law and takumi. well. hes dazed life is so good

LMFAO FLUFF AND ANGST........... its consuming us all...............

#hi also i think koshin would have an audino like COME ON........#I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING THE SPOILS OF LAPONE POKEMON AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#asks

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tea-the-not-understanding · 3 months ago

Text

HAIIIIII WELCOME TO MY BLOG

Hello!! Welcome to all who somehow found my blog! You all can call me either [ Tea | Star | Mars ] I have many nicknames :] My pronounce are He/Him/They/Them. I'm literally 18+ old. Trans / Ace or Aerosexual and Bisexual.

So this blog is mostly me, posting my arts, oc and sometimes writing out my idea's on characters and making au's on characters. I also sometimes do animation/PMV and Roleplay with my mutuals. You can send me asks or roleplay with me too! I don't bite :)

Just don't be a little shit and follow simple rules I have here on my blog. Simple rules!

Me accept

Art trades ( I do love to do art trades but please do not go overboard with it. I don't want to kill my hands )

Collabs ( I like to share some ideas and do art collabs, etc.. )

Roleplay ( Roleplay is what I love to do but it have to be at least appropriate. no 18+ or NSFW because there's minors, but angst is allowed, Gore too. I do gore art lots so I don't see why roleplay should limited on this part. )

Suggestions ( You can suggest or give me idea what to draw. But for now, Cookie run fandoms, it can be others but I'll reconsidered about it. :3 )

You can send asks to asks about the characters that I am open in this blog. Please keep it appropriate.

Me no accept

Don't send me inappropriate photo's or request. This blog is me doing stupid art and stupid stuff. Not doing for your entertainment in negative ways.

Asks or Request me to draw NSFW. (There's minor in this blog, I know it. And if you want, it do not come in for free. )

Request to draw your oc/characters. ( I only do it for friends and mutual. If you really want, then considering commission me for it. )( And also, asking me to be your friend first and tell me to draw your oc will get you banned instantly. )

And finally, common sense thing that you must know. No Proshipper, Incest, Homophobic, Racial, Slurs, other bad shit, etc...

The tags you can search in my blog. Sometimes you can write cookie name since I write that in the tags too. But the main is

Update : just in case anybody interested. (But not right now, I'm dealing with scammers and school at the same time so the commission is closed at the moment.)

#cookierun

#cookierunoc

#oc

#sona

#shimp

#PMV

#Illustration

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saturnsorbits · 3 years ago

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Born to Bail

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Angst, Smut, Squirting, Praise, Sero has a Jacobs Ladder. Word Count: 5.9k.

Summary: Sero has a reputation and you’re next on his list.

The gala is alive. Already you can see both Hero's and civilian's rubbing elbows, causing a gentle mix of small talk to echo just over the live band that plays in the corner of the hall. A shock of black draws your focus away from people watching and you smile instinctively at the sight of his signature grin digging deep lines into his cheeks.

'Have fun with the press?' Arching an eyebrow, you step forward letting Sero slip behind you and your small standing table. He plants a hand on your hip and grips the flesh gently before plucking the gin glass from your hand. You let him.

The dull clicks of his throat are loud, even over the music, but he doesn't stop swallowing until the glass is completely drained. He hands it back to you, slipping the stem between your fingers. It had taken almost an hour to shake the hoard of journalists outside of the venue and of course, you'd bailed as soon as you'd seen the news van, leaving him to grin and flirt with the reporters. 'Tonnes.'

'That reporter from Juzo News hit on you again?' You smirk, but don't turn to face him. 'Or maybe he asked to become one of your stupid, little tally marks.'

A wry smile catches the edge of his lip, his fingers pressing a little deeper into the flesh of your hip. His other hand comes up, tracing what can be seen of the inked lines just under his collarbone. He knows the rumours, it's hard to avoid them really, but he's never had the heart to tell the press that he doesn't add another mark for every person he charms into bed. 'Nah... Only special people get to be tattooed on me like that.'

'Every person you've ever fucked that special, huh?' You snort, rolling your eyes.

'Why you wanna join them?' He licks his teeth, resisting the urge to pull you gently back against him. It's no secret that he wants you. He's been playing his interest up for the better half of two years now, and you've still yet to bite. A fact that only makes him want you more.

'In your dreams.'

'Yeah, you are... But, the press asked about you, actually.'

Pursing your lips, you pull a breath in through your nose before peeling his hand away from your skin. 'Maybe they wouldn't ask so much if you'd stop giving them the wrong idea.' It's not a particularly new line of questioning. In fact, it's become pretty predictable. Sero Hanta is... Well, he gets around and everyone knows it. You're pretty sure you're the only friend he has that he hasn't fucked, but you've got no interest in becoming a front page headline for a semi-decent fuck. None of that is to say that he doesn't try it on though, and so, the press continue to ask their questions.

'Is it that bad?' He purrs, breathing lemonade over your shoulder as he steps closer, his hand coming back to your hip. 'That they think we're dating.'

'They don't think we're dating...' You huff, putting the glass down. 'They think we're fucking.'

'Okay... Is it so bad that they think that we're fucking, then?'

Rolling your eyes, you spin in his hold and hook your hands on his shoulders. 'I keep telling you that I can't handle a cheap shag.'

He laughs, licking at his bottom lip. This is familiar territory. He flirts, lays on the charm that has had many a person in his bed before and you... Well, you remain astute. You bat those pretty little eyelashes and smile and keep making his cock fucking hard without a care in the world. That is why he has to have you, to fuck you out of his system so he can stop this little game before it gets dangerous, before he's too caught up for flings and one-liners. 'And I keep telling you, that's exactly what you need.’

Patting the broad muscle of his chest, you curve your spine to gain some distance between you while remaining trapped by his arm. 'I need consistency.'

'I'm not saying it just has to happen once.'

A chuckle bubbles up your throat as you manage to wiggle from his hold. It's hard to pretend that his hand at your side doesn't burn, that it doesn't make something stir in your stomach, but you do, you always do. To entertain anything else would be treading a line that you're not sure either of you are equipped to walk.

Eyes lingering on yours, he pauses as if he's trying to read your mind and then, his hand is creeping up, up, up to the curve of your waist. He leans in, fanning hot breath across your cheeks. Can't you see how weak he is? How he could have any person in this room and yet, he's here, barking up your dress like a desperate lap dog. 'What do I have to do to change your mind?'

'You're relentless.' You breathe, licking at your lips as something changes in the air.

'Maybe I just think we'd be good together.'

Heart thundering in your chest, you try to swallow around the lump in your throat. There's something dark in his eyes that makes you take hold of him, wrapping your hands around his biceps. You search his face looking for something, the tell-tale twitch of his lip, a raised eyebrow, anything to tell you that this is just his absent flirting being taken a little too far. Whatever you're looking for, you don't find it.

'Tell me I'm wrong.' He smiles, grip tightening on your waist. It's the first time he's come on this strong, but if the slight widening of your eyes is anything to go by, he should have tried this a long time ago.

You swallow.

Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, Sero lowers his voice pressing his chest to yours until he can whisper directly into your ear. 'I could make you cum so hard, for so long that you'll forget where you even are...'

Your breath jams in your throat, as a coil of molten lava pools in your stomach. Pushing back to look him in the eye, you frown. 'This isn't just you trying to tick me off some sort of list, is it?' Because if it is – I.

'What?'

'Don't pull that face...' You snap, hitting at his arm. 'You're acting like I don't know that you've fucked your way through the entire agency.'

His hand leaves your waist and comes up to knock against the underside of your chin. Something tightens in his chest. 'You're not some random side-kick.'

You lift your chin from his knuckle, removing the warmth that threatens to shake your resolve. 'Neither was Mina.'

'Last time I checked you're not Mina either.'

Looking him in the eye, you try and ignore the violent pulsing of blood that surges through your veins. You'd be a liar if you said you'd never thought about it, but the reality is a completely different beast to battle. You chew your lip, preparing to utter a soft 'no' at his shoes before slipping from his arms and retreating to the safe loneliness of your apartment. 'I -.'

'C'mon. When was the last time you let go....' He purrs. 'Just let me treat you right, Baby.’

You shudder, full bodied when his hand cups your cheek so he can speak straight at you. It's strange being on the receiving end of a pet-name you've seen him use on other women. You've seen even the most composed go weak at the knees at the way he curls his lips around that word and part of you is scared, because you know how this goes now. 'Only if you promise -.' It leaves your mouth on an unsure tongue. You're going to regret this.

There's a flash of something mischievous in his eye, but he loosens his grip on you to tilt his head and smile. 'I promise.'

You scowl, fixing him with a glare. 'Only if you promise you're not going to pull your usual bullshit.'

'My usual bullshit?' He flattens a palm over his chest, faking a gasp.

'We work together, Sero. If we do this, things can't be weird afterwards -.'

He shakes his head, cutting you off. 'I promise.' It's sincere this time, accompanied with the subtle shine of victory that echoes in his eyes.

Nodding, you work up the courage and press your hands to his chest, tip-toing to whisper soft into his ear. 'Treat me right then, Sero... Let's see if you live up to that reputation of yours.'

For a moment he stops breathing. His lungs seize and constrict, forcing a pleased sigh out of his mouth. 'You wanna get out of here?'

You bite your lip. 'Take me home.'

'Holy fuck.' He laughs, eyes swelling as he hauls another breath in through his nose. Excitement thrums through his veins as anticipation beings to swirl in his stomach. 'You're going to be the end of me, aren't you?'

Settling back to the flat of your feet, you offer him a smirk. 'Maybe.' You glance at your watch. You've already fulfilled your contract requirements. You've shown up, chatted mindlessly with the sponsors, shook too many hands; no-one would notice if you where to sneak out now. Cocking your head, you poke him hard in the shoulder. 'No squeezing my ass in front of the press when we get out.'

Pouting, he twists his wrist in your hand, lacing your fingers together and muttering out a quick: 'You're no fun.' before beginning to drag you through the crowd and out towards the inevitable blinding flashes of the journalist's cameras.

Sero slams you against the wall. His palms cradle your thighs, gripping and kneading at the fat where legs meets ass as he hikes you higher. A chuckle rumbles in the back of his throat when you squeal and cling to him, lacing your fingers behind his neck as your legs wrap his waist. He tastes like gin and smoke when you kiss him.

Pulling back just enough to speak, he pants into your mouth. 'Bedroom?'

His eyes are black. They swallow the light, making already dark iris' barely visible as he devours you with his stare. Things had moved quickly as soon as you'd stumbled over the threshold of your apartment, but you'd be lying if you said you had a problem with it. You'd made your mind up after all, there was no point in hesitancy now. 'Over there.'

It takes a little effort for him to make it down the hall, despite your added weight. He stumbles once, almost taking you both to the floor before your back is colliding with another door.

He's got you arching up into another kiss before you can speak, but as soon as he lets you breathe, you're pushing and forcing him back again. 'Wrong door...'

'Fuck.' Spinning on the balls of his feet, he turns, pressing you against the opposite door. 'This one?'

You reach down blindly, struggling to co-ordinate the swirling of your tongue in his mouth and the swatting of your hand at the door handle. 'Yeah – fuck... Yeah, that one.'

He wets his lips, smirking before kissing you again softer this time.

There's a zap of electricity in the air, a faint pause in-between lips, teeth and skin, but before you can read too much into it, your hand catches the door handle.

Grunting, he nips at your collarbone before crossing the threshold and throwing you down onto to bed. He comes down hard over you, caging you in with lithe arms that bracket your shoulders. Fuck, he was going to enjoy this.

You let your legs spread, allowing him to nestle between your thighs. The heat of his cock is heavy when it presses to your stomach, igniting a new wave of desire inside of you as your cunt begins to ache for him. Littering soft flesh with kisses that stretch from jaw to shoulder, you leave no patch of skin untouched on your quest to scour his body.

His head dips, a groan vibrating through his chest. Hands bunching in cotton sheets, he hauls in a shaky breath as his nose drags up the length of your neck. 'You don't know how long I've wanted this.'

It's hard to focus on his voice when he unlocks his jaw to suck at your throat. A violent wave of pleasure washes over you, forcing your eyes to roll backwards as you scramble to cling to him. You find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the rippling muscle and mapping out deep, red lines in the flesh beneath his shirt. If he minds the sudden pain radiating down his back, he doesn't tell you to stop. 'Sero... Ha – I.'

Sucking harder on your throat, he rolls his hips against yours, pressing his clothed cock against your dampening cunt. 'Sound so pretty calling my name, but... Call me Hanta, yeah?'

'Ha – Hanta.' You tilt your head, baring your neck before moaning directly into his ear.

A full body shiver rocks through him when your breath tickles his skin. Each of his kisses grows heavy until his lips are joined by his teeth. He bites down, encouraging you to bloom.

Your back arches up, pressing against the wall of muscle above you. 'I – fuck... Want -.'

'Yeah? Tell me what you want, baby.' His tongue laves over the bite.

A whine wiggles it's way up your throat when you feel him pull away and push up so he can peer down at you. Your clothes itch. The thin lace of your dress feels tight, constricting your thighs as you wriggle and try and press more of his skin to yours. 'Want you... Want you to -.'

He chuckles. 'Want me to what, baby?'

'Fuck me.' As soon as you speak his hands are on you again. There's a bruising grip at your hips as he bunches your dress at your waist and you lift from the bed, letting him strip you of it completely.

'Fuck, you're pretty.' Running a hand through his hair, he puffs out his cheeks and stares, unashamed of your nakedness beneath him.

Sat up on his haunches, he looks like a vision. It's not hard for you to see what the appeal is, not from this angle. His hair falls into his face, half obscuring the lust swimming in his eyes, but that doesn't stop your cunt drooling when you catch the lazy smirk tugging at his lip. Reaching for him, you run a finger down the creased front of his dress-shirt. The material is fine under your skin, silken as you pinch a button at his neck and pop it open, revealing a slice of toned chest. 'Take this off.'

'Say please.'

You don't even hesitate. 'Please.'

'Good girl.' It takes him two seconds to finish unbuttoning the shirt before it's peeled from his shoulders and cast away, discarded beside your dress on the floor. 'Like what you see?'

You nod and sit up, breath growing stale in your throat as your eyes roam over his chest. You've never really had time to truly appreciate his physic, but now, splayed out underneath him you have to take him all in. Licking your lips, you hook a hand over his shoulder and pull him to you.

He shuffles down your body, mapping out your skin with his tongue. He nips at the flesh, reaching for the mound of your breast. With a clean flick of his tongue, he causes your nipple to pebble and soon after, he latches onto it and sucks gently.

You cry out when his teeth bite down, your hands fisting in his hair as you clamp your knees around his hips conscious of how your cunt drools. 'Please.'

He pops off your nipple and grins. God he could listen to you all day. 'Use your words...'

'Need you.' Your attempts to push or pull at his scalp are thwarted. His shoulders are too broad, too strong for whatever pitiful force you can enact on him, but each attempt just brings a smile to his lips.

'Gonna taste you now, okay.' Slinking down your body, he cups your thighs and lifts them until they're seated atop his shoulders.

Your foot connects with the taught muscle of his back, your hands still tugging at his hair as he presses in and breathes against your clothed cunt.

He shivers when he catches a smell of your slick and licks a thick strip up the seat of your underwear before groaning into your cunt. 'Always knew you'd taste good.'

'Don't tease.' You wriggle your hips, inadvertently forcing his nose further into your cunt.

'But it's so fun.' Hooking a finger in the seat of your underwear, he pulls it aside giving him access to your sex.

His tongue works you open slowly. The sound is disturbing, wet and sloppy as he sucks your clit into his mouth and suckles against it. It makes you keen, makes your stomach tighten and your hips buck, forcing your cunt up and into his mouth. He snickers as your hands pull at his hair, almost ripping strands from his scalp as a moan floats from your mouth. Struggling to breathe, another moan breaks through your chest as he slowly adds his fingers into the mix. He slips them into you and ever so slightly curls them upwards. You jolt forward, lips parted as your eyes threaten to roll backwards, cunt gushing around his hand. He curls his fingers again, tongue lashing out at your clit and you curse as you feel a swell of something unbearable in your stomach.

Pulling away, his eyes flicker up to catch yours. He smirks against your cunt. 'Best you've ever had?'

There's an aching in your cunt that demands attention and you rock your hips back into his hand, begging for him to continue. He does. The moment his fingers begin to scissor in and out of you, stroking against the spongy roof of your cunt you can feel it building.

'Admit it.' He needs to hear you say it, needs to know that it's not just him loosing his mind.

You furrow your eyebrows, but quickly get the point when he digs the pads of his fingers into your G-spot making you thrash. 'Fuck. Yeah – the best... You're.' You babble, falling apart, unable to control the way your cunt spasms around his fingers as you feel your arousal drip down your thighs. He elongates your high effortlessly, controlling your body in a way that no-one ever has. You manage to gather yourself for long enough to peer down at him. A wetness coats your thighs and your almost mortified you've just squirted on his face until he begins to lap at your juices with abandon.

When he lifts his head this time, there's a sheen around his mouth and he licks his lips, collecting you from his skin before swallowing loudly.

The noise makes you jolt. Your thighs flex, clamping down around his ears. It's sinful how your body shakes, how something deep inside of you calls out to him desperate. 'Sorry – Sorry, I couldn't. Couldn't stop.'

'Baby.' He grins, groaning into your cunt one final time before crawling back up your body to fiddle with the belt on his pants. 'Do not apologise for that...' Leaning down, he presses his lips to yours, smirking against you.

He licks into your mouth, smearing your own sweetness against your tongue. Desire churns up in your stomach, already building again despite your first release. It overflows, making you dizzy.

'Fuck.' He rears back, wriggling from his pants. 'Condoms?'

You swallow as your eyes follow the deep curve of his hip and land on the impressive cock bobbing between his thighs. It's thicker than it is long, with a bulging vein pulsing along it's side and a halo of soft pubic hair surrounding the base, but that isn't what catches your eye. Running horizontally across the underside of the shaft is a pair of parallel piercings. The metal catches the light, glinting at you and making your mouth dry. 'Is that?'

'Exactly what you think it is...' He smirks, pulling his cock back by the head to give you a better look.

'Does it...' Your heart beats against your ribs as your eyes flicker from him to his cock and back again. 'Will it feel good.'

'You're about to find out.' He licks his lips. 'Which brings us back to... Condoms?'

'Birth control...' Your mouth drops open when his cock twitches at your words and you're almost sure you're salivating from the sight of it alone.

Reaching down, he takes himself in hand and gives himself a few cursory pumps, spreading pearled pre-cum down his shaft. It coats the metal of the ball bearings, making them shine brighter. 'You telling me you want me raw?'

'Do you usually -?'

'Wrap it? Sure.' He shrugs, somehow still shouldering his casual demeanour despite being kneeled between your legs actively stroking himself.

'Oh...' Something heavy deposits itself in your stomach. You wonder if you'll still be able to feel the drag of those piercings while wrapped in latex.

'But for you... I don't mind. You want it, baby girl?'

You moan. You can't help it. The idea of being stuffed full makes your heart splutter in your chest and your cunt throb. The need burning in your stomach cracks your voice. 'Please.'

It takes everything inside of him to stay composed. You're too good, too pretty and willing – his cock pulses. Settling on the mattress, he wraps his hand around your waist and pulls. 'Since you asked so nicely...' There's a smirk pulling at his lip when he flips you over and hauls your ass up, forcing your front end to the mattress. Running a hand over the plush curve of your ass, he lands one firm slap against the fat before he's lining himself up and pushing in.

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out clean, forcing your body to submit to his. Gripping at the sheets, you chew at your lip trying to lock a scream away in your throat as he sets up a brutal pace, brushing against something exquisite inside of you with each thrust. The metal of his piercing rubs at your walls, massaging you gently as he drags himself out only to force you to feel him again a moment later. It's a strange sensation, but not at all an unwelcome one.

'Don't hold back, baby.' He lets his hands slip up your sides and keeps you up, perching your on his pelvis as he continues to rail you into abandon. One arm bars your shoulders, the other crossing your chest to wrap around your neck. He holds you there, presses you close to his chest and growls in your ear letting you hear just how good your little cunt is squeezing him. 'Shit. Feel too good, baby. Gonna make me – shit -.' He's cunt drunk and loosing his grip quickly.

'P – please... Want it... H – Hanta.'

It's pathetic. Usually, he lasts longer than this, but the tension of your cunt and the sounds of your moans send him hurtling to the edge. With his thrusts growing sloppy, his hand abandons your neck to toy with your clit. 'I – shit...'

You whine, shaking and cutting him off as you cum again, hard. Your cunt flutters around his cock, milking him for all he's worth as you feel a sudden warmth spread inside of you. It's unreal how he feels filling you, coating your insides with ropes of sticky white, but you're not allowed to bask in the afterglow for long. You can feel his breath on your neck as his hips stutter, forcing more cum into your abused cunt.

'Told you...' Rumbling, he jerks one final time before stilling. 'Told you we'd be amazing together.' A soft kiss is placed against the nape of your neck as he collapses beside you, his cock slipping free.

His cum dribbles from your cunt, soaking your sheets, but your limbs are too weak to care. You roll, tucking yourself into his side. 'We should clean up...'

'Mmm.' He mumbles, face squished against the pillow. Lifting an arm, he runs his fingers down the length of your side, eliciting a trail of goose bumps in his wake. His fingers brush against your hip before sinking down to tap against your clit and spoon back his seed back into your cunt. 'You look good when you're full of me.'

You groan, head tapping against his shoulder. 'You don't usually cum inside your little conquests then?'

He shifts, removing his fingers from your cunt only to slip them into his mouth. 'No.'

'Oh.' You swallow, eyes blowing out as you watch him lick his fingers clean and grin.

Settling down, he rolls onto his back, opening his arms to invite you to come lie on his chest. As soon as you shift into place, he wraps you up yanking at the blanket at the bottom of the bed to cover both of your legs. Slipping his hand under it, he grips the flesh over your hip again and kneads at it. 'You want me to stay over?' The question shocks him as much as it shocks you.

His chest is warm, the gentle lift and fall a soft comfort as you listen to the beating of his heart as it bangs against his ribs. 'I take it you don't usually do that, either?'

'Nope.' The 'P' pops in his mouth. If he was in anyone else's bed, he'd already be half-way through putting his pants back on by now. Fuck, he might even be out the door heading home to collapse into the warm of his own bed. So why does he not want to move?

Your arm crosses over him, reaching up to trace the stems of the inked flowers that spill onto his pec. Beside them, just below the ledge of his collarbone is a tally of two etched into his skin in a stark black. Your fingers leave the flowers, journeying across to them. 'What do these mean?'

Sucking at his lip, he knocks his cheek against your crown. 'You know what they mean...'

You roll your eyes, propping your chin on his chest to glare at him. 'No, I know what the press think they mean, but there's not enough of them for that.'

'You tryna say I'm a whore?' He cocks an eyebrow before flicking out his leg and dislodging the cover that had partially covered his body.

'Even if you weren't...' Your drag a fingertip across each line. 'You've definitely fucked more than two people. I should tell that little reporter from Juzo – he'll be devastated when he finds out there's not more.'

Releasing you for a moment, he holds his hands up, palms facing the ceiling in surrender. 'Okay. You got me, it's not some weird way for me to log how many people I've slept with.'

You mumble, 'Figured. What is it then?' You look up again just in time to see a smile break his features, only this one you've never seen before. It's softer, coupling with the tenderness hiding behind the black of his iris'. It makes your stomach flutter.

'You're gonna laugh.'

'I'm not.'

'You will.'

'I won't.'

'It's cheesy.' Huffing out a breath, he has to remind himself to control his breathing. This is, fuck, this is almost domestic. Him laying in your bed, you on his chest bullying him playfully for information he's pretending he doesn't want to surrender. He's supposed to be fucking you out of his system, not falling in love with you.

'So?' You pinch his nipple making him squirm. 'Tell me.'

'Oh, fuck. Okay.' He jolts, hand covering his pec from further attacks. 'It's how many people I've been in love with.'

Your mouth drops open instantly, your gut clenching a little with how willing he had been to answer. 'Yeah, you're right. That is cheesy.'

'Better or worse than it being my body count?'

Pausing, you tug your lip between your teeth. 'Better.'

He glances down, catching your eye just as you look up. Air sticks in his chest making him cough. 'You didn't say if you wanted me to stay or not...

'Who?'

'What?' Your eyes have dropped his, freed him from whatever magnetic hold he's discovering you have on him.

'The marks, who are they?' Part of you isn't sure you want to know, but there's a burning in your chest that makes you ask anyway.

Tongue touching his soft palette, he thinks for a moment. He could refuse to tell you. He's refused to tell people before. A quick, no can do and he could have done with it, shutting down this weird pillow-talk that makes his chest feel too tight. 'This one.' He points to the first of the lines, the one closest to you. It never really was an option, he realises, not telling you. He'd tell you anything. 'Is Denki.'

'Yeah?' Snuggling in tighter, you press your cheek to his shoulder and nuzzle at him.

'I fell hard back in school. Then, he got with Shinso – so that was rough.' His fingers move across his own skin, poking at the second mark. There's something cathartic about this, something that feels as if he's cracked open his own ribs to let you peak inside. What's stranger is that for some reason, he's completely okay with it. He wants to do it more. 'This one is Nemuri.'

You cock your head. 'Nemuri?'

'Midnight.'

'Fuck off.' Shooting up off his shoulder you fold your arms over his chest and come down onto him again. 'You – you and...'

'I was a side-kick when it happened, calm down.' He smiles at the memory. 'Anyone that tells you they're not into older women is lying. She, she helped me learn a lot of things about myself. Helped me get over a lot of stuff too.'

You huff. 'Yeah, bet she did.' Pouting you let your chin come down on his chest, digging into the muscle.

His arms come around you to play against your spine. The pads of his fingers drag along your skin as your weight makes him relax into the mattress. 'And now you know.'

'Yeah -,' You're interrupted by a yawn. It takes over your jaw, forcing you to stretch wide before a sudden tiredness pulls at your joints. 'Yeah, I guess I do, huh?'

'You're tired...'

A thumb brushes your cheek and you press into the touch. 'Am I?'

'You should sleep...'

Something drops in your stomach when you feel him wriggle under you. It had been nice, this, basking in him, but then you knew what you where signing up for didn't you. Of course, he wasn't going to actually stay. 'Yeah...' Slipping off his chest, you swing your legs under you, pushing yourself up into a half-kneel. 'Yeah.'

His eyebrows knit on his forehead. 'Where you going?' Without you on his chest, he's twisted falling onto his side on the mattress. He pats it twice.

'You're staying?' You try not to look too keen when he nods, patting the mattress in front of him again.

'If you'll have me...' He grins. He really doesn't want to be kicked out of your bed, not now.

You bite back a smile before moving, letting your body melt into his as you slot into his side and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Something stutters in your chest as the unknown stretches out in front of you, but for now your body is too tired to care. 'Can't kick you out now anyway, the press'll get the wrong idea.'

He snorts. You're not wrong, he does have a reputation after all. 'They already think we're fucking...'

'Let's not confirm it then.' You mumble into his skin, already sinking into his warmth. ‘Get breakfast with me tomorrow?'

Humming, he presses a kiss to your crown. 'Sleep now, yeah?'

'Mmm.' It's almost too easy to fall asleep in his arms, to lose yourself to the scent of gin and sweat as it clings to his skin. You wonder how many others have fallen asleep basking in him like this, only to wake alone and cold, missing the strong arms that had wrapped around them. If you had any luck you'd never find out.

Sero wakes up at 12:05am to a surge of notifications on his phone. A few are from past hook-ups, streams of angry emoji's and garbled curse words flash on his screen as he scrolls, searching for something of more importance. He finds it when he stumbles across a news article. He's no stranger to being featured on the front page of Juzo news, but it's the first time it's ever taken him off guard. Underneath a large, bold headline speculating about his love life is a picture. It's of the two of you, still decked out to the nines as you leave the gala. Your arm is wrapped around his as he escorts you down the stone steps of the city-hall, your eyes trained on your feet watching careful as you navigate your way in too-tall heels. Beside you, clinging weakly to the back of your waist he looks like he's won the lottery. There's a shine in his eyes, something deeper hidden in the smile smeared across his face as he looks at you, unable to tear himself away. He looks smitten, fuck, to the untrained eye he looks head over heels in love.

The thought dries out his mouth and makes his fingers itch. He's never been here before, never had second thoughts about upping and leaving and yet, he still finds himself pausing. Jostling, he slips his arm out from under you and sits up, perching on the edge of the bed. Instinct makes him stand, makes him stretch to the ceiling and sends him rummaging for his clothes. He slips into his pants, focusing more on buckling his belt than the hammering in his chest.

Steeling himself he glances back, letting his eyes roam over you as you sleep. You're curled up, laying on your side with the sheets clenched in a fist. A pout creases your lips, a natural down-turning of your mouth that begs to be kissed and fuck, does he wish he could. Committing your image to memory, he swallows still trying to ignore the hiccuping of his heart and turns towards the door.

There's a dull ache in his thighs and a sweetness on his tongue when he pulls the door shut and slinks out of your apartment. Part of him knows he's making the wrong decision, that he should drink a glass of water, strip off and sink back to your mattress making some half-hearted excuse about needing to piss, but he doesn't. He's not ready for that. He's not ready for any of this. Not yet. So he leaves, he bails like he always does and hopes – prays – that you don't hate him for it.

Three weeks later, there's a new headline gracing the front of Juzo news. It reads: Another Notch in his Belt: Sero Hanta adds to Mysertious Tally Mark Tattoo.

-> Masterlist

#sero hanta #Sero hanta x reader #Sero x reader #Sero hanta smut #Sero x reader smut #saturnssuggests #saturnscribbles

1K notes · View notes

k4g3hika · 2 years ago

Note

Hi I just wanted to say I think that your writing is magnificent and it brings me so much joy on that note I was wondering if you could do a eddie x reader where eddie has a crush on the reader and people like the basketball team or cheerleaders keep embarrassing him infront of reader so he gets completely humiliated and gos and hides somewhere to cry (you can choose the place) and reader finds him and comforts him and you can tie it all together with a confession or not but I trust you

Sorry if that made no sense or sounds stupid and you can completely ignore this idea if you want to thank you for your time 😊

FREAK'S GOT A STARING PROBLEM ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie cannot stop looking at you. not for anything bad! he just thought that you are the most beautiful thing to walk on earth. but will his habit bring fortune or conflict for him? it's terrible that this freak's got a staring problem.

genre: a bit of angst? / fluff

wc: 1. 98k

note/warning: a bit of bullying and lots of curse words lol. and major tw!jason. mfs scary. also, i'm not entirely proud of this one, but i hope you enjoy!

Eddie thought that you were the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth.

Sure, his magazines had some hot chicks in them, and frequently he would see the occasional actress in the movies that he would watch, but you? You seemed to beat all of them so easily with both your personality and beauty.

It physically pained him to have this teeny-tiny crush on you. In the few classes the both of you shared together, Eddie always caught himself looking your way. He didn’t know what overcame him to possess his eyes to draw to you, but he knew the reasons could’ve been either your radiating smile or possibly, that bright light that seemed to be behind you.

Though he frequently stared at you, however, Eddie Munson was not a perv. He could never look at you in that light, well-

‘No.’ Eddie stops himself. He will not let his mind be dragged to that point. You were an angel graced by God, how the fuck can he even think of you in such a dirty way?

Eddie groans, finally hearing the ringing of the school bell, notifying Hawkins High that it was finally lunch. He heard the class go by around him but didn’t start packing until most of them had left. Sometimes, Eddie imagined what his life would’ve been like if he was in your high school posse.

Athlete, cut hair, spent most of his time in training or parties. Easily having the prettiest girl in his arms. And of course, for that position, it would be you.

Fortunately, life was kind to Eddie. Instead, he was playing one of the most brilliant games ever created, with the best people around him. He would prefer that, over throwing a ball around for an hour. With that thought, he would have to deal with the ridicules that frequented him, and most importantly, holding his feelings and looking at you from a metre away. It was fine. He could live like this.

Eddie’s ears are infiltrated with noise as he walks through the cafeteria doors, seeing that several students have already received their lunch. He began to make his way to the lunch line, expecting to receive the most lacklustre, unappetizing meal of the day.

After receiving a certain look from the lunch lady, Eddie mutters a ‘thanks’ and looks around to see his friends sitting at the usual table. They seem to already be deep in conversation, making Eddie feel a bit inferior because of his absence. He hopes it isn’t too important, because of course, as the leader of Hellfire, Eddie had to be there for every complaint and recommendation.

But first, a small stop past the table he dreaded the most.

No, Eddie wasn’t going to actually stop and talk to anyone at that table, shit, that was blasphemous at whoever cared. All he’s going to do is walk by, and catch a small, small glimpse at you. Hopefully today you were either smiling or laughing because if he was being honest, those expressions look beautiful on you.

As he walks past, he sees you giggling a bit behind your hands, making him fail to notice how his stride begins to slow. Eddie is entranced by your laugh and smile, feeling as though a higher power somewhat blessed him today.

Unfortunately, the devil seemed to curse him as well, seeing as he captured the attention of the prick sitting at the head of the table.

At first, Jason was going to say something, either ‘get out of here freak’ or whatever. Until, he looks at where Eddie’s gaze was caught, tracing it back to you. An alarm goes off in his head.

“Hey, freak!” Eddie’s head snaps to Jason, who slams his hands down on the table and stands up. Eddie’s heart begins to race.

‘Shit!’ He thought he was being so slick!

“You fuckin’ need somethin’?” Jason starts to make his way to him.

“No Jason-”

“Then why are you looking at Y/N? Got a starin’ problem you need help taking care of?” The blond jams his finger into Eddie’s chest, prompting him to almost drop the lunch tray in his hands. Eddie steadies himself, almost losing his temper at the bullshit Jason was trying to pull.

In the corner of his eye, he can see that your head was turned to him, making him a bit nervous under your gaze.

“Listen, Jason, I don’t want anything to happen. I was just walking by.”

‘Yup, yup. Keep your cool. Gotta look swift for her.’

“Yeah Jason, he doesn’t want anything to happen,”

‘God fuck! Why do his goons have to get involved?!’

The basketball player, whom Eddie remembers to be Andy, laughs under his breath, “he doesn’t want anything to happen, to interrupt his serial killer plans. He’s probably planning to kill our whole fucking table just to be with Y/N. What a fucking creep.”

“Yeah, we hit the jackpot? Is that what you want to do? Order your little cult to kidnap Y/N so you could use her in your cult sacrifices?” The cafeteria gets silent at the statements of Jason and Andy. Eddie’s face feels warm, not because he was particularly embarrassed, but because of his anger.

He just wanted to look at you is all, what’s wrong with that?!

“Hey Jason-” Eddie hears a soft voice,

“No. We need to fucking expose this freak before he terrorizes Hawkins. Shit, maybe tomorrow night we might just see that club of his dancing around a fire. That’s what you do Eddie? Dance around the fire like a couple of pussy bitches?”

“Why don’t you fucking push your head up Andy’s ass Jason. You’re being a fucking prick.” Eddie sneers at Jason. Of course, Jason expected this kind of reaction from him, prompting him to threateningly step closer.

“Yeah, you freak-”

“Jason, I fuckin’ said, shut,” he pushes the cafeteria tray into his chest, “the fuck, up!” Eddie turns his tray over, knocking some potato mixture onto Jason’s varsity jacket. The cafeteria gasps, but before Jason could give him some kind of comeback, Eddie leaves the room. Not forgetting to give him the middle finger before he made his exit.

Slightly turning around, Eddie still makes the effort to look for you, catching your shocked face switching between him and Jason.

“Get back here you freak!” The door shuts behind him.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Eddie runs through the school, trying to find an empty classroom he could hide in for the time being. He definitely didn’t want to get caught by Jason and his goblins.

He wasn’t prepared for whatever they were gonna give him.

“Eddie?” His heart stops. Eddie hears a voice in the hallway, not wanting to turn around and witness his murderer.

‘FUCK.’ Pushing open the door right next to him, he finds it to be the restroom. Not sure if it was girls or boys, but regardless, he didn’t care. Eddie rushes into the last stall, pulling close the door and sitting on the toilet seat, pushing his legs up to hide from whoever was looking for him.

The door swings open.

‘SHIT! Ozzy, please, I’m begging you. Please save me from whatever they’re gonna do to me, I’ll listen to Black Sabbath extra hard tonight. I promise!’

Eddie rocks back and forth, biting onto his rings to stop his heavy breathing. Slow footsteps echo throughout the small room, before finally stopping in front of him.

‘Well. Praying didn’t do shit. Ozzy! You bi-’

“Eddie? It’s me, Y/N.” His heart stops, again.

‘Oh no. You’re probably here to fucking expose him. Jason is gonna come in here in any second-’

“I know, you probably don’t want to talk to me. But I’m not gonna call for Jason or any of his groupies. If it helps you, Chrissy is trying her best to calm him down…and I think that she’s doing an okay job.” Silence ensues. “Eddie? I just want to talk to you.”

His heart hurts. Why does your voice have to sound so pretty as well?

Eddie puts his feet down. Slowly unlocking the door, he pulls it towards him and faces you.

‘Shit, so pretty.’ Earlier, when he said that there seemed to be a light radiating behind you, he didn’t mean literally. But now?

The lights above the restroom mirrors flicker a little, but still manage to enhance your beauty. Eddie almost crumbles to the ground, but instead just keeps his gaze locked onto your eyes…trying not to look anywhere else.

“May I help you?” Shit, that sounded rude.

“Hey! Um, I just wanted to talk about what Jason was saying earlier. I’m sorry about whatever he said, y’know, about Hellfire and you.”

‘Fuck! She knows about Hellfire?!’

“Yeah…it’s not okay. I mean, he’s a fucking child so I don’t really care. The fact that you’re apologizing for him says a lot.” You sigh, rocking back and forth.

“Well, our varsity basketball captain has a massive stick up his ass, so…I’m here. Apologizing for him because he is, like you said, a fucking child.” Eddie laughs a bit and you join him as well. He didn’t really expect you to criticise Jason like that, especially since the both of you ran in the same social circle. “Um, but that isn’t really what I came to talk to you about Eddie.”

‘Oh shit.’ This was it. The moment when you were going to ask him to stop looking at you.

“About what Jason was saying…were you really looking at me or was Jason just imagining things?” Eddie swallows his spit. He really was debating on whether or not he should tell you the truth.

“Well, um, uh,” fuck it, “yeah. I was looking at you. I just think that you…you know, are- shit.” He wipes his eyes with his hands to avoid looking at you. For some reason, you were getting too fucking bright.

“No! Eddie, um…” you grab his hands from his face, surprising him a bit, “I think, I think I like you looking at me.” Eddie pauses, internally screaming.

‘...what?’

“I mean! I like you looking at me, as in, you know, I like that you take the time out of your day! I appreciate it! I also notice too in class, you looking at me, cause I look at you too- fuck! I mean, sorry, shit…I think your tattoos are cool!” You blurt that all out, shaking his hands as you spoke to him. You didn’t seem to notice that you were moving his hands along with yours, but he didn’t mind it.

“You think my tattoos are cool?” Your eyes widen.

“Of course! Who doesn’t? I love the bat one it’s so metal. I want to get a tattoo for my eighteenth, but I’m not sure what to get!” Eddie goes through some more pausing.

‘Did you just say ‘metal’?’

“Did you just say metal?” Eddie repeats, standing up from the toilet, and you finally realize that his hands were in yours. Frantically pulling them away at the realization, Eddie immediately grabs them back.

He was not getting rid of this opportunity!

“I did…? Did it sound right? I just started listening to metal, so I hope it’s okay to use the term.” His smile grows wider on his face.

“Yes, yes you did say it right.” You smile right back and Eddie was starting to gain his confidence. “Listen, if you need any help coming up with ideas for a tattoo…I could always help you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally.” His thumbs rub your hands,

‘Way to go Eddie!’

“Then,” you step closer to him, “can I request that you also be there when I get it? Y’know, to comfort me and what not.”

‘Ozzy? Praying to you has got to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’

“Just give me the time and place sweetheart.”

TAGS:

@crunchcake @buckwbarnz @bookobsessedfreak

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things 4 #netflix #joseph quinn fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie x reader #stranger thing s4 #eddie munson st4 #eddie my love

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years ago

Text

Tits are amazing

Masterlist- oneshots

Summary: sy and his men are protective of the groups first bundle of joy and his mama and dont take to kindly to mom shaming in public.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic violence, angst, fluff, cheeky Sy, pregnancy, swearing, anxiety, feminism?, breast feeding, protective Sy, inaccurate biology?, mansplaining boobs, men being men, bit of a crack fic im just having some fun, threatening to shoot someone with a boob.

A/n: this was goingnto be somthing completely different. I ,ay have gone ptt with the back story but idc im pleased with hos this tirned out in the end.

You looked around nervously as you rocked your bundle in your arms trying to quiet down the tiny cries that were sure to draw attention if they got any louder. Fear ran throught you as you realised you were out of bottles and will have to do something youd tried to avoid at all costs.

You shuddered anxiously eyes flicking around you. It wouldnt be too bad you hoped. It wasnt that packed here, just a few regulars at the bar. Besides you were with a large group of huge muscle bound soldiers and theire girlfriends and wives. No one would be stupid enough to start somthing would they?

"Babe? Babe are you alright? Whats wrong with him? Another nappy change? Wind again? He is a windy little man want me to take him?" The deep voice from next to yoh hummed, your captains beard ticling your skin as he looked over your shoulder peering down at the fussy bundle you were cradling.

"I... no sy he... he is just hungry thats all" you said quietly looking to him with a small nervous smile. Your breath hitching like it did everytime you looked at him. He was a saint in your book. You wanst one to belive in divine intervention but when it came to him? Yeah you could call him your mirical or silver lining. He'd not only given you the life and love youd always craved but became a father to your son. Accepted a little boy that wasn't his own and protected him as any father would.

Youd been in a relationship with one of his men. It wasnt the best not because of the distance either, you knew what to expect you were a military brat yourself your own dad being in the special forces. But Josh had... issues. He drank when he was home, nothing too unusual most soldiers let loose when they came home and had one too many.

But he also suffered from mental health issues, night terrors mood swings bouts of anger and that coupled with the drink? Well lets just say it wasnt just his mood that started swinging. He'd hit you occasionally, slaps mainly, shoving and pushing somtimes a kick when you were down. The others had no idea and Josh made sure to keep it that way he could get into some deep shit with superiors if they found out, and you were too embarrassed to tell anyone. You made sure to come across as confident and tough, one of the lads when out with the others and their other halves. So you rolled with it like an idiot keeping quiet to protect him kidding yourself itd get better, it had to right?

Wrong. Dead wrong, the month long leave only left him with more time to drink, each binge worse then the last, each slap harder then the last. Though each time there was a get together he managed to be sober and his 'happy go lucky' self. But even then you were flinching at his every move. Then reality hit in the form of two tiny lines. Pregnant. Youd been both thrilled and devestated. You could not do this with him, no way could you stay with him when your so vulnerable.

So when he was out with the guys for another long celebration of someones birthday you decided to leave. You'd planned everything packed your bags and were loading them into the car when he was brought home by sy.

You remember the gut wrenching feeling, the fear as the captains big blue truck pulled into the drive behind you. Before you could even shut the trunk of the car josh was out of the truck thundering towards you drunk and absolutly steaming with embarassed anger.

Sy had followed quickly to try and talk his man down but he froze for a second watching as one of his best men- someone he trusted with his life began screaming at a defenceless woman before striking her as hard as he could, knocking her off her feet.

Youd screamed and quickly curled int a ball trying to protect your stomach at all costs and josh began to lay into you screaming about how he owned you and your going to regret embarassing him. All you did was shout begging him to stop because you were pregnant, hopeing itd calm him down but the news had to opposite affect and he lost it because you were 'stealing his baby'

Sy couldnt believe his eyes it was your admission to being pregant that snapped him out of it and sy pounced. He saw red and flew at Josh with a speed a man his size shouldn't be capable of. With a single nose crunching punch Josh was down and disoriented trying to get up. You quivered on the floor in shock sobbing trying to get up and scramble away only for your knees to quiver and give out. Sy managed to hoist you up quickly ushering you to sit in the passenger seat of his truck and gave you the keys telling you to lock it.

Sy beat the ever living shit out of Josh then and there knocking him unconsious within a few moments. Then pulled out his phone calling who you could only assume were his higher ups or the police explaining what happened. Then began grabbing your bags from your car walking to the bed of his truck placing them under the cover.

You moved quickly unlocking the truck and staggered out to find out what he was doing. Only to be stopped with a thick finger pointing at you to get back in the truck.

"No ma'am you get back in that truck, im getting you outta here, we're going to the medical bay on the barracks to get you checked over then you can stay with me. Nowhere will be safer i promise" he said walking to and from from your car collecting your things and securing them in the truck.

Sy kept his promise.He was on medical leave much to his distaste had an op on his back and shoulder, and was undergoing extensive physio therapy. Steroid injections, painkillers and rehabilitation to get movement back in his shoulder, he'd most likely need another op but they were trying to avoid that.

Even through his own problems he managed to look after you catering to your every need. You'd intended to stay long enough to get money for rent but as the weeks rolled into months you and sy hit it off before you knew it you were an item and leaving wasnt something either of you wanted but only time could tell. Josh wasnt to pleased, he came around more then once after his reprimand and few weeks in the barracks cells. But sy wouldnt let him near you whatsoever.

After youd informed sy you didnt want Josh to have anything to do with you or your baby the bear of a man had relayed the message and made it clear that Josh will have nothing to do with you or the baby. He also informed your ex that you were the captains girl now and he would 'force feed him every single one of his teeth' if Josh so much as looked in your direction again. The last you heard Josh had been deployed again.

Before you could really get your head around how things had changed you were at your own gender reveal with you and sy popping little blue party poppers with the rest of sy's team a few days before they were flying out again. It had been that moment sy had asked you what you wanted. You'd paused frowning not sure what he meant and then his hand drifted to your rounded tummy. 'Every boy needs a dad, i'd be honoured if ya stayed, let me raise the little tike with ya our own family it'd be nice having a proper wife and kid waiting for me back home' youd stood there frozen and in shock trying to process what sy had said. then once the penny dropped you instanly burst out crying nodding to him. You'd only been dating sy for three months but you'd known sy for well over a year. And you knew without a doubt that he would be an amazing dad to your son.

Your hormones had kicked up silly fears about the baby being a problem in the long run. But in that very moment you knew it never would be. Sy saw the little one as his own and that had only intensified as your pregnancy progressed, youd been introduced to his parents who had welcomed you with open arms and were excited for their first grandbaby despite knowing there was no blood relation.q

Sy was more then you could ever hope for in a partner. He held your hand through everything, every scan, every scare the first kick, craving to the final aches and pains. He even convinced Josh to sign away paternal rights before he left. Your not sure how, you didnt ask but you were greatful. Then the big day came, and sy was all over you like a bad rash, he couldnt do enough for you as you moved through the slow labour. Guarding the door when you waddled in and out of the loo as your waters trickled away. Calling the midwives back every hour on the hour to check your progress 'just incase they forgot' luckily the woman found it incredibly cute especially when everything they said was followed up with 'your sure?'

When it came time to push he had been a wreck, freaking out enough for the both of you to the point you'd offered him the gas and air between your contractions to chill him the fuck out. The daft bastard had been stupid enough to accept, muttering a small 'thanks babe' whilst stealing the pipe sucking on it like a straw only to get a slap upside the head when he forgot to hold your hand as another contraction came over you and you were pushing again. He quickly got the message when your hand wandered down to squeeze something else.

Then as the pain peeked it went and your son was born all seven pounds of him. Sy almost fell over as he saw the boy, the sight of tiny red baby being placed on your chest had reduced him to tears. He sobbed his heart out curling around the two of you the midwife had struggled to pull sy away from you both to cut the cord. She had to help him hold and cut because he couldnt see a damn thing through his tears.

Hours later you were being wheeled out of the hospital with Theodore Syverson. Thats right, Sy had given the boy his own name. The nurse had flicked her eyes to you in question clearly asking if that was okay given that they knew sy wasnt the actual father. But sy had waved her of 'dont be looking to check with her, she'll be shareing the name soon enough. Now ya want me to spell it out for ya?' He said casually making you flush and giggle nodding as the nurse quickly began writing the name as sy spelled it out for her.

All of this led you here. Sitting down for a meal at you local pub celebrating not only his mens safe return but sy's full recovery. And in six weeks he was returning to duty with them. Theo was now three weeks old and doing well, quickly growing into his features and so far looked nothing like his sperm doner thank god! All of sy's team had inspected the bundle with approving nods, cooing over their nephew, it was sweet watching these big burly mens men terrified of holding him but Theo was the first baby of the group, so you could let it slide.

Whilst the men were introduced to 'little man' the women inspected the rock on your new wedding ring. Sy didn’t mess around, you both decided you werent going to be one of those long engagement couples and had eloped as soon as you could walk without wincing. You may not have had a wedding night to speak of, but sy promised the wildest of night of your lifes once you recovered... or days? Pretty much when ever little Theo gave you a few solid hours alone.

Some may say yoh wernt truly married if you didnt have sex, but they were normally ths oneswho said only virgins wear white, you shouldn't live together or have a baby before your wedding either. So fuck them.

"Well feed him then" sy said a little cluelessly with a frown not understanding what the problem was. You sighed again and flicked your eyes around you once more.

"Yeah i will, excuse me" you said and began to stand ready to make your way into the toilets to feed the squirming hungry baby.

"Whoa bug? Where ya going?" Sy said placing his hands on your hips and tugged you to sit in his lap curling a thick arm around you and Theo. The others stopped and looked on wondering what was up.

"To the ladies room, i can sit with him in there and feed-" you began trying to explain softly beginning to flush as everyone watched you.

"What why? Just feed him out here" sy asked moving to place a soothing hand on Theos head calming him a little, the boy always settled for his father, some secret voodoo shit that sy could pull off and you hadn't quite figured out yet.

"Sy i... i didnt manage to pump enough bottles, he had his last one so i cant just feed him here"

"Why not we're all drinking aint we?never to young to start drinking with the team~" the others cheered raising their glasses laughing betweennthem. Sy grinned nodding to them and then turned to you eyeing you expectantly.

"I cant just flop a tit out. It could offend someone" you said slowly trying to explain the problem. You'd seen all sorts of embarassing stories online when you'd been readingnup on breast feeding. You were scared of being confronted.

"Fuck em. It wont do no harm, they'd soon complain if he sceamed the place down" sy said with a shrug and pressed a sweet kiss to your shoulder resting hos chin on it and peered down at his son.

"I should probably just..." you said tryongnto wriggle free from your husbands lap but he held strong keeping you right where you were.

"Im here babe, i wont let no one bug ya" he humed softly. His friends turned looking on with huge grins enjoying seeing their boisterous captain get all loved up with you. You met his gaze and instantly melted, relaxing into his lap and smiled before giving him a tiny nod. Ou trusted him to protect you, and it made his heart soar. His eyes flicked to the men watchingnhim casually so he was quicl to smirk at you and then shrugged to before speaking.

"Besides the only tit they're gonna see is that little hat i got 'im"

"Oh god sy no" you moaned watchingnhimwriggle his brows and hoist up the diaperbag to the bench seat next to him. You frowned praying he hadn't packed the hat again, youd removed it four times before you left!

"Sy yes, here guys check this out~" sy said laughing as his hand doved int to diaper bag to pull out the crochet tit beanie hat complete with protruding dusty pink nipple on the top. You shrunk as your man held it up for the others to see. They was a moment of silence before they all burst out laughing with cries of 'put it on him'. Sy chuckled quickly moved plucking the cute little teddy bear beanie and replacing it with the novelty hat tugging the nipple to the crown of your poor sons head.

The table came to life, roaring with laughter at your unsuspecting little Theo who wriggled about in your arms looking like a tit. Litterally.

"Sy its cruel, stop laughting at him" you chided but didn't make a move to take the hat form Theo's head it was a little funny. Poor little bugger.

"Its funny babe, i cant help it. Go on just feed him no one here minds" you sighed looking down at Theo whose mouth was open head moving from left to right as he searched your his dinner.

You gulped and moved tugging your top down. Sys hand shot out covering you from the others as your maternity bra was unclipped and you held Theo closer. Within seconds the whinning stopped and he was feeing greedily.

You sighed relaxing somewhat as the aching began to sooth. Sy kept a hand on your chest above your othef breast soothing you.

"Lucky little bugger, aint ya? Hmm you dont even know how lucky you are, your mama almost tore my head off last night for trying to get a sneaky mouth full of tit~ and here you are in broad daylight have a cheeky nibble" Sy said moving down pressing a quick kiss onto his sons head. You tutted turning to give the man a stern look as the others all chuckled into their beers trying not to catch your eye now that you had the 'mom glare' sy just smirked winking and blowing you a kiss. You growled rolling your eyes and looked back down to Theo whos tiny fist had come up beside his face resting on your boob sweetly rubbing his own cheek.

"What? Its true" Sy defended with a shit eating grin. Referring to the way youd almost yanked his geard off his face when he'd dived for you tender boobs last night mouth wide open. Youd not meant to tug soo hard. Youd panicked thinking he was going to bite the swollen mound, then panicked even more when the thought of accidentally squirting milk at him crossed your mind.

"Theyre sore i dont want you playing with em" you offered weakly trying to justify your recent boob privilege withdrawl.

"I can soothe em if ya let me~" sy hummed before making you giggle flushing when he pressed an open mouthed kiss to your neck.

"Not a chance cap." You mused managingnto curl an arm aroundmyou and Theo pressing sy away.

"Why not? Come on babe share i neeed them"

"No Theo needs them. you just wana get all kinky and stick your dick between them"

"Can ya blame me? Look at those puppies!" Sy said chuckling making you flush a deeper red and shake your head as the others laughed once more.

Then a hush fell over the table as a stern older man approached the table. You could practically smell the self righteousness on him wafting across the few feet that seperated you.

"Hi er excuse me? Sorry to intterupt. Hello i was wondering if you could tell your ladyy freind to cover herself, im here with my granddaughter and she doesnt need to see that" suddenly you felt as if the entire world had just collapsed around you and quickly looked down ashamed, shrinking into sy before quickly sheilding Theo.

"Oh my god im so sorry I didnt mean to make you-" your voice cracked as humiliation washed over you; you wanted to cry you could alredy feel the tears welling. Just as quickly as youd relaxed you were ready to blot again, you tried to break free from sy. But your bear was having none of it instead he held you closer and cut your unnecessary apology with a deep threatening voice.

"And by that you mean the perfeclty natural sight of my wifes incredible body providing a healthy balanced meal for my newborn son?" Sy asked straight up, no messing around. No beating around the bush. You didnt get the feeling he was genuinely asking, it felt more like he wanted to clarify before deleting the fools life subscription.

"Besides your granddaughters old enough to know what my wifes doing, shes what seventeen? Shes got a pair herself" Terry said nodding to the teenager that looked around sixteen. You looked to the posturing male a few seats down smileing greatfully as the man backed you up pretty quick crossing his arms making his ams buldge in the tight tshirt.

"Thats not the point, your wife has her boob out, its indecent!" The man tried again, once again bypassing you and speaking to your husband because your husband owned you and could order you about apparently.

"Whats indecent it you tryn'a shame a mother feeding her kid fuck wad" Mikey the youngest addition to Sy's unit piped up with a severe look. At twenty three he still had a cute puppy look about him. He always wseemed happy and eager, this was the first time you'd seen him scowl. It was unsettling.

"Its offensive seeing a breast out in public" the man argued not getting the message that these men can and will rip him a new one if it came to that. God you hoped it didnt come to that, they'd muller him.

"Your fucking face is offensive but im not leaning over your table bitching at you" martin snarled slamming hos beer down seething. Theo jumped at the sound whining as he continued to nurse. You quickly soothed him rubbing his back cooing softly cpaming both you and your son.

"And coming over here to demand i order my wife to do somthing, the fuck are you from?" Sy's low gravely tone rumbled through you as his hand moved across your thigh, drawing slow patterns on your denim covered leg keeping you calm.

"Yeah the fifties called they want their misogynistic sexism back" Terry huffed drawing a laugh from the others. The man sneered and made to reply but was interuppted by Mikey again.

"What kind of man dont enjoy a bit of free side boob?" He pondered making the others chuckle again. He sent you a quick look smiling, clearly tryingnto check in and make sure you didnt mind the joke. You gave a tiny nervous smile back which made him relax, just in time to hear Timmy's imput on the subject.

"I'd have thought a man your age would thank his lucky stars seeing a little side boob i mean come on man as far as side boobs go that is a fine titty- sorry cap" Timmy piped up, wavingnhis beer in the mans direction. the man stood at the table quickly growing flustered. But the others didnt care, it would seem the guys were going to make fun of this man untill he walked away. Which was fine by you, youd rather the, bully him away rather then beat him up, which was entirely possible.

"None taken, but watch yourself there Timmy thats my wife your talking about" Sy grumbled with anskmirk still staring donw the man who hovered slowly becoming enraged as the others co tinued to laugh at him.

"Sorry captain, sorry Mrs Sy" you grinned at Timmy with a small nod letting him know you hadn't taken offence. How could you? He said you have nice side boob.

"Old geezers propbly worried he'd have a heart attack if he got a glimps of decent tit when our little dude if finished." Your quiet giggle was drowned out by the table erupting into loud gruff laughter, some of the guys slapping the table. comments of 'I can think of worse ways to go' were follower by cheeres of 'here here' and the clinking of beer glasses.

You sat still looking back down to your son tears welling in your eyes. It was humbling to learn that Sy's team would stand up for you with something like this. Despite being friends with them all duringnyour previous relationship you'd worried they would reject you after the whole Josh thing. You thought they would think you baby trapped Sy, that they thought ill of you and Theo. But you were wrong. So soo wrong, they had your back. They were family just like Sy had said.

Sy felt the way yoh trembled and held yoh closer pressing a lare hand to your tummy and kissed your neck. He knew, he didnt have to see the tears to know you finally realised those silly fears were just that. Silly. You moved your hand to Theos cheek, rocking him frome side to side as he continued to nurse. He wont be feedjng much longer, probably drift off to sleep soon.

"Shes got her whole breast out!" The man seethed placingnhis hands on his hips still heckljng you. You hand it to him he was brave to still stand there and bitch when you clearly had more back up then he was capble of handling.

"But its mostly covered ya know by the baby shes feedin'" Sy growled beginning to loose his own temper.

"I saw a nipple-"

"No no man, thats just a cool hat" mikey interrupted quickly senseing that Sy was running out of patience and would start swinging if they didnt do something.

"Dude crazy gone so long with out proper tiddy he thinks its real" Terry added clapping his hands whilst eyeing Sy carefully. Sy's lips quirked but nothing more. It wasnt looking good for grandpa.

"Poor sod, heres five bucks go to the strip joint on third, and treat yourself ask fo chanel hers are real swear to god" Timmy said sliding a few dolla bills across the table to th old man. Sy did release a gruff chuckle at that. Especially when the man flushed bright red at the thought of going to one of those clubs.

"I'd just feel more comfortable if she didnt do that here" this bloke just didnt know when to quit. But luckily Sy was of a mind to shut him down.

"Look fuck off man shes feeding my kid not grinding the table or fucking moterboating someone! Leave her be" you couldnt help feeling that was the final warning this old coot was goingnto get, you prayed he was goingnto take the hint and leave because god knows what your husbands next move was going to be. But alas the man didnt seem to have and self awareness, or self preservation instinct as he tried again.

"But im-" Sy cut the man off with a low growl finally snapping, all mirth gone from his face his hand that had been tracing patterns on your tummy snapped up and encompassed your unoccupied breast.

Before you could even yelp in suprize your husband was holding it gently pointing the covered globe threatningly at the old man who'd disturbed your nice get together.

"I'm warning you now asshole, shes got two loaded mama super soakers and if you dont walk away right now imma fucking take this one out its holster and fire number two. Considering Im a special forces captain of the fucking military whose a pro with a fucking sniper I'm betting my aims pretty good. So the chances of me hitting you right in your fucking sleazy eyeball and blinding your old wrinkled ass with tit milk are good. So I suggest you go and sit down drink your stupid girly mojito or what ever the hell that prissy drink is and leave my wife alone. Because if I do have to shoot you with a tit I'm be following it with a punch for peeking at my wife like a peeping tom. Now whats it gonna be?" You froze gaping as you tried to get your head around what Sy had just threatened someone with.

Sy held steady hand still aiming your boob in the assholes direction. He stuttered and teetered on his feet. Turning to look back at his granddaughter, then back at Sy almost trying to weigh up if your husband was serious. Sy must have looked deadly serious because after a few more seconds the man was turning tail and scuttling away from the table.

"Yeah thats what I thought grandpa keep on walking" Sy growled slowly releasing the hold he had on your weapon of mass soaking. Leaving it with a small pat before lettingnhis hand glide over you restingnin your lap again, his other hand picking up his beer taking a deep drink.

"Did... did you just threaten to shoot him with my tit?" You asked confused as to what the fuck just happened. You know what you felt and what you heard but it just wasnt computing. You just couldn't wrap your head around it.

"Yeah sort of" he shrugged scratching his beard, a nervous tick he had when he thought you were mad at him. You wanst mad, you foundmit all a bit surreal and funny.

"You do know thats assault" you mused saying the first thing that came to your mind. Becuase for the life of you; you just didnt know what to say, this wasnt in the pregnancy books- no where did you read an article of 'what to do if your husband holds a karen/keith at tit point' you were a little out of your depth with this one.

"Really?" He asked leaning around you confused nose scrunched up and brows furrowed cutely.

"Yes sy" he paused for a second thinking before lighting up and grinning a lopsided grin.

"Wait does it really spurt out? Like a little water gun, I was just bluffing I didnt know if it can or not" he said excited by the new information. Sy had a thing about learning new things about your body during the pregnancy, he had one of those apps that told him everything that was going on week by week, he still had it now telling him all about Thoes development.

" well yeah i mean not all the time but its happened once or twice a littl psst acros the kitchen- but wait that is notthe point! you can't just squeeze aim and fire my milk at people!" Your stammering reply quickly became a stern scolding. But it went in one ear and out the other as Sy beamed tuckingnhis face into your neck pressing kisses and laughing.

"Fuck me so you got a couple of milk guns on your chest? That is amazing babe im definitely squeezing these triggers tonight... do they like build up pressure?" He carried on now fascinated by the prospect of 'milk guns' you rilled your ees as his mind seem to fixate of your boobs and not the fact that he had almost used one to assault someone.

"What? Like a a pump action rifle or somthing? No well kinda? I dont bloody know sy! And your not playing with them, they're not toys" you asked frowning before turning it around

"You know whilst we are on the topic of boobs i was err- i always wondered when your, well you know feeding do you leak everytime your bra's off cos of the hole?"

"Im sorry Mikey but what the actual fuck?" You were gobsmacked. How did these men survive out in the warzones when they couldnt even grasp si,ple biology. It was scarey to think that Mikey was capble of making kids. Becasue he really shouldn't.

"You know the hole or does the bra sort of patch it." Mikey elaborated with a flush and shrugged peering into his drink trying to avoid eye contact. But you noticed none of the men were laughing, in fact they all seemed to be waiting for an answer. It was only the woman who were giggling behind their hands. You turned lookingnto Sy amazed that he hadnt already corrected Mikey, he took you loom as a signal to explain.

"Yeah its like a puncture on a tire, slap something over it and it stops. Isnt that rigt babe?" Out of everythingnyou anticipated coming out of your husbands mouth that had not been it. You frowned at him confused. What the fuck? Didnt he know? All that research for the pregnancy and birth and he hadnt come across the mechanics of breastfeeding.

"Jesus christ, no! No my body just... leaks occasionally, normally when it knows he's hungry and even more when hes nurseing" you said still shocked from the ignorance of the men. You knew men wernt experts ofn this sort of thin but you'd expected more.

"Oh well fuck me thats even more awsome! Tits are fucking great, they know when im horny, they know when he's hungry, they feed him and make him happy, they jiggle and make me happy. Hell can they do other cool shit to?" You slumped rolling your eyes as he once again too, what you said out of context, probably becuase hes a man. A man that cant think straight when it comes to boob, specifically yours.

"They do not know when your horny Sy! Shut up" you flushed quickly realiseing this topic was going down hill fast.

"Sure they do, I get a stiffy then they do too!" He anouced like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it was scientific fact your boobs were connected to his cock.

"Oh my god sy stop! Thats not- its not you" you huffed at him embarassed qwilling him to just drop it, but he wont. He was stubborn, bu this point yohwasnt sure if he was just teasing or not, surely he knew your nipples got hard because you were turned on, not because he had a stiffy and let off pheromones or something.

"Course it is, i mean it cant be a coincidence" nope. He was serious, dead serious. You would have laughed had you not been so shocked.

"Its ugh god, guys explain to the man will you" you tried gettingnyourself out of the hot seat. But the men just blinked looking to one another then Timmy looked back to yoh with a shrug.

" err... we dont know either"

"I never even noticed but now you mention it..." Mikey said under his breath wincing, the boy was thinking too hard again.

"Seriously? You seriously dont know? It happens when we women get ya'know horny" you finally explained to the group. Out of everything you thought was gojngnto happen today teaching biology to a group of fully grown soldiers was not one of them.

"Oh. Tits are amazing~" the Silence that fell over the table was broken by Terry with a loud cry.

"To tits!" Terry praised lifting his glass, the others followed suit raiseing their own drinks in a toast to boobs. You shrunk into sy shakjngnyour head. They were a bunch of dumbasses, handsome burly gruff dumbasses. The idle chatter then began again makingnyou melt into Sy.

"Thats really is a cool hat tho" someone said over the table, you didnt know who as you'd turned to Thoe who was now fast asleep. You grinned smoothing a hand over his back glad he was finally settled enough to have a nap.

"Yeah i know right, thinking i might get me'self one" Sy answered grinning l pinching the small woolen nipple still protruding from your sons head with a chuckle.

"Fuck yeah lets all get tit hats!"

"How much are they?"

"Hang on let me check" sy said, and just like that he was picking up his phone to search where he'd got the little boob beanie checking to see if he could get them in adult sizes.

"Oh fuck me" you muttered under your breath, you knew without a doubt Sy was goingnto find and buy him and his team boob hats. Its just how he was.

"Sorry love fuck request denied we got another ten days, twelve hours, fourteen mineuts and six seconds to go atleast, before the doc says i can take you to pound town" sy grunted into your ear nipping at it harshly makingnyou flush and pout, quickly shutting up because anythingnyou say will make it worse. The others smirked at their captains teasing, it was about time Sy had his own family to fawn over, and they were greatful it was you their captain had chosen to stick with.

#henry cavill #captain sy x reader #captain syverson #captain sy x y/n #cpt syverson #syverson fluff #syverson imagine #oh for fic sake imagine

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dominimoonbeam · 3 years ago

Text

Long Time No See

Got an ask for Darlin fainting from blood loss at a meeting and drama ensueing and it turned into THIS!

Darlin faints at a pack meeting and earns the full focus of David and Asher.

This is heading toward Asher/Darlin/David in an AU without their respective canon partners.

tags: reference to abuse (aka Quinn), implied child abuse (Darlin), hurt/comfort, self doubt, angst, protective David & Asher.

Posting here and on ao3!

Long Time No See

They walked into the den just when the pack meeting was starting, sunglasses on and feeling like they were marching through mud. Everything was too fucking loud. Their head didn’t exactly hurt, more like everything else hurt. They found a seat near the wall and took it. David had left messages warning them that if they didn’t make an appearance soon, he would personally come check on them. That was the last thing they needed right now.

Their life was a mess. They just needed to figure out how to get it right again. But first they had to sit through one of these stupid pack meetings to get David off their back.

Darlin folded their arms tight against their chest and settled in. This couldn’t take that long could it?

David had started talking, a handful of others toward the front involved in the discussion. Darlin honestly tried to pay attention, but they couldn’t focus, could barely keep their eyes open. Come on, come on, just keep it together for forty minutes and then they could slip out.

But about twenty minutes in, someone dragged a chair over and sat next to them. Right next to them.

“Long time no see,” Asher whispered. He bumped their shoulders together.

Darlin thought about leaning away or rolling their eyes or even moving to sit someplace else, but they couldn’t. They were too tired.

“You know we’re inside, right? You don’t need the sunglasses,” Asher continued.

Darlin felt dizzy, their head heavy and their heart beating too fast. Oh shit, were they going to be sick? No. Not here. Not in front of these people.

“Darlin?” Asher asked, voice serious now but at least still low enough not to draw attention. He turned toward them, touching the back of their chair.

“What?” Darlin got out, hating how their voice sounded raw. It had been a bad week.

Asher didn’t say anything.

For a second Darlin was relieved, hopeful the nosey fucker had just found someone else to focus on, but then they felt his eyes on them. They turned their head and saw his smile was gone and his gaze on their neck. Sitting so close, they almost thought they heard a growl low in his chest.

Darlin touched their neck, fingering a scab peeking out from the collar of their shirt and jacket. They’d been so focused on covering up the bandage on the other side that they hadn’t thought about that—hadn’t thought anyone would be this close.

“Someone bite you?” he asked, voice low. There was no usual hint of a joke or lightness to him. Asher could be light even when they were talking about totally dark shit, but not this. Why not this?

Darlin forced a smirk. “I bite back. Don’t worry about it.”

Asher’s eyes stayed on them, scrutinizing everything he could see.

Darlin’s skin tingled, exposed even with jeans and shirt and jacket on, like he could see through everything. What a horrific idea that was.

“You look tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You feeling dizzy?”

“Fuck you, I’m feeling annoyed.”

Asher nodded once and then turned to face forward again, as though paying attention to the meeting. But he slid his arm along the back of their chair, bracing the back of their shoulders. Darlin’s heart hammered in their chest, making their vision fuzzy. “You can sleep if you need to.”

Darlin wanted to laugh and roll their shoulders to shove his arm off. They didn’t need shit. But they were so tired. They weren’t lying. They hadn’t been sleeping well for a while, trying to get hours in during the day and stay on the move at night. They were playing chess, only Darlin didn’t know how to play chess. And last night Quinn had found them. What an asshole he was.

Darlin lost time. People were leaving the den, still talking, some arguing in a comfortable way. They always felt weird at pack meetings, like an intruder on a family gathering. They still hoped no one noticed them sleeping at the meeting. They didn’t belong but they didn’t want to be a dick either. Not really. Not if they could help it. They unraveled their arms and leaned forward, trying to wake up.

“Stay put,” Asher said, voice soothing and so close.

They winced. Fuck. He had his arm around them and they’d fallen asleep right into his side. That was so weak. They felt sick. They needed to leave.

His hand squeezed their shoulder gently. “Darlin?”

People were looking, stealing curious glances as they headed out.

David was coming, working his way across the room.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Standing up was harder than it should have been.

“Darlin?” Asher stood up with them, worry in his voice now. Why?

Darlin shook their head, not sure why, and decided to just leave. They’d just walk out and let David leave some more shitty messages on their phone about pack and duty and family.

“Darlin!”

They didn’t realize they were falling at first. Their legs just didn’t work, dropping out from under them. Their whole body sinking. But before they could hit the floor, someone caught them. Asher? Fuck. This was embarrassing. They didn’t want anyone to see this. They—

Darlin fainted.

David couldn’t believe his eyes.

He’d seen them walk into the meeting right after it started—perfectly timed so that he couldn’t actually talk to them. He’d sent Asher over to make sure the shit didn’t duck out early too. And why the hell were they wearing sunglasses? Were they falling asleep?

When the meeting ended and people started leaving, he made his way toward them. No fucking way where they going to sneak out of here without having a talk. But when they stood up it was shaky. He could see the worry on Asher’s face even across the room. Asher was talking. And Darlin…Darlin was swaying.

No. No way were they going to faint.

David had seen them drunk and this wasn’t that. Darlin didn’t sway when they were drunk. It was annoying as hell but they’d won a dozen bets about whether or not they could walk a straight line. Asher had lost all of those bets.

He had never seen Darlin faint before but that was exactly what they did, their whole body sinking toward the floor. Asher lunged for them at the same time as David. Asher caught their arm but David got his arms under their back, catching them before they could hit the floor.

“Asher?” David asked, staring at Darlin in his arms. They were completely limp. He shifted them closer to his chest and touched their cheek, pushing their hair out of their face. Their skin was cold and clammy.

“I don’t know,” Asher said, but he could tell by his tone that wasn’t true.

David frowned hard. It wasn’t like Asher to lie to him. But he wasn’t really, he realized. He was being discreet. Some of the pack was still there, watching.

Darlin’s head lulled back against his shoulder, the angle dragging the collar of their shirt low in just the right spot that he saw the corner of a white bandage. Had they been in a fight?

“David?” Amanda was asking, edging closer to the scene. There were at least a dozen of the pack still in the room, craning their necks to see what was going on.

David looked at Asher and growled, “Clear the room.”

Asher was on his feet in a flash, turning on the others and herding them out.

David lifted Darlin and walked to the back office. He put them in a chair in the corner just as they were starting to wake up again. He took their stupid sunglasses off just as they were blinking, cringing against the light of the room. David winced. A splotch of yellow bruising hung under one eye. An old bruise almost healed. “Darlin? Can you hear me?”

Darlin groaned but nodded. They tried to lift a hand to their face but it shook and dropped like it was too heavy.

David reached out to curl a hand behind their neck, but they jumped in a flinch, eyes flinging open in surprise. They stared at each other. Darlin dragged a breath, their lips the same color as their skin, everything flushed. “I’m sorry,” Darlin said, voice quiet and rasping.

David shook his head slowly. They didn’t need to apologize for flinching or for whatever had made them do it. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time he’d see them flinch since they were teens. He hadn’t understood then, why someone as tough as Darlin would ever flinch, let alone to people that weren’t necessarily bigger or stronger than them—just people they hadn’t seen coming or people that reached for them when they were vulnerable.

His dad had explained it to him though. Had explained how some parents aren’t good and some kids aren’t safe. He had asked why his dad hadn’t done something about it and he still remembered how his dad had looked at him, so patient but so tired of the truths of the world. He understood now that if Gabe had run those assholes out of Dahlia, they would have taken Darlin with them. As it was, when their parents did finally take off, Darlin hadn’t gone. And then his dad had passed away and David had used everything he had just to keep going.

By the time he realized how far Darlin had drifted from them, it seemed almost impossible to bridge the gap. But there was no way he was giving up.

“Tell me what’s going on,” David said, voice steady even though he didn’t feel steady.

Darlin dragged a few more breaths. “I’m fine. I just need a minute,” they mumbled, barely getting all the words outs.

“I’m taking you to a healing clinic, they’ll—”

“I don’t need… I don’t need that. I just need to sleep,” Darlin growled but it was weak—tired.

“You’re injured. Have you been fighting?”

Darlin sighed, closing their eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

David sighed. “Can I see?”

“What?” Darlin opened their eyes, confused and then worried. He saw it before they could hide it. “No. It’s nothing.”

They were lying and David knew it. “You can let me get a look, or I can take you to a proper healer to have you checked out.”

Darlin whined but even that was tired. “Come on, David. Just let me go home.”

Asher came into the office. “Everyone’s gone. I locked up.” He frowned at Darlin’s bruised eye but crossed the office to the little refrigerator in the corner. He popped it open. David was about to snap at him about looking for snacks right then, when Asher grabbed an orange juice and came back to them, screwing off the lid. He crouched next to Darlin and pushed the bottle into their hand. “Someone’s been feeding on you?”

David felt rage coil in his chest and the itchy need to shift. He growled low when Darlin didn’t immediately deny it, taking the juice instead and shakily lifting it to their lips.

“I’m handling it,” Darlin said, swallowing. Their gaze flicked up to him fast and then away. “No one knows, I promise. Today was…was a bad day. I promise, I—”

“Stop.”

Darlin winced, closing their mouth.

“You think I’m…what? Worried about pack image? Darlin, I’m worried about you.” That gaze flicked up to him again, so tired that he felt it in his own bones. “Healer or right here?” He asked. He wasn’t going to let them squirm out of this. He’d be happy to drive them to a clinic. Dahlia had two, one just outside of DAMN campus and the other run by the Department.

Darlin stared at him, like maybe this time they were going to be able to stare him down. Which was laughable since they’d never been able to do it when they were in good shape.

With a sigh they looked away, nodding defeat. They both knew Darlin wouldn’t walk into a healing clinic. They’d only ever gone in when they were too messed up to walk and someone else had brought them in. “It’s not as bad as it looks…” they said, sounding more brittle than he’d ever heard.

Real panic started to rise in his chest, and he saw it reflect in Asher.

Asher took the half-empty bottle of juice back from them when they stood up and put it on the desk.

Darlin shrugged out of their jacket. For a second they swayed, vision losing focus and both David and Asher stepped closer, afraid they would fall again. Darlin swallowed hard and then pulled their long-sleeved shirt off. David blinked. Skin, scars, and muscle. And bruises, a lot of bruises. And…

“Son of a bitch,” Asher ground out, his usually pleasant tone gone. There was nothing funny here. There were bites, healed over and in varying stages of bruised on their wrist, up their arm, and over their shoulder. More on their chest and on their hip.

Darlin sat down, managing to make it look cocky when they all knew their legs just wouldn’t hold much longer. They had to rest their head back against the wall.

David took another step closer, moving slow enough that Darlin would see his hand coming well before it reached the white bandage taped to the base of their neck. He pulled it away gently and then clicked his teeth hard when he saw the fresh bite there. It wasn’t a clean bite like some of the older ones might have been. It was like a bloodsucker had gnawed at them. “What happened?” This wasn’t one fight with a vampire. These were months of abuse printed on their skin in bruises and bites.

Darlin deflated a little more. Blood loss. They were tired and dizzy from blood loss. “I broke it off with him a couple weeks ago.”

Asher exhaled hard but bit back whatever he wanted to say.

David tried to absorb what they were telling them. Broke it off? Him? Who? Who the fuck had done this? “This one isn’t more than a day or two old,” he pointed out, trying to stick to the most pressing issue at hand.

Darlin winced. They hadn’t looked directly at him or Asher since they took off their shirt. “He’s…Not easy to convince.”

“What does that mean?” Asher asked, fast and David could hear the tightness in his voice. He was trying not to yell. Trying not to snap. “Did you break up with him?”

“Yes.”

“But he still shows up?”

“Sometimes.”

David growled low. The bruises made sense now, not where they usually would be clustered from a fight but rings around upper arms and wrists and the splotchy handprints on their sides. A couple weeks ago. They’d broken up with the vamp and for the last couple of weeks he had been coming back to terrorize them. To put hands and teeth on them. “Did he bite you when you were still dating?” he asked, carefully putting the bandage back on the wound on their neck. Darlin wouldn’t want to go to a clinic, but he could get a healer to come take care of this. It wasn’t much for them, even if it felt like the world to David right now.

Darlin shrugged, still not meeting his gaze. “Vamps bite. It’s kind of their thing. But it wasn’t…bad, until I told him to get lost.”

“Why did you tell him to get lost?” Asher chanced and David wondered if he was as desperate to get a peek into Darlin’s life as he was—to find a way in and a way to bring them closer to the pack.

“He’s an asshole. It was fine when…” they trailed and shrugged.

Asher curled his lip but Darlin didn’t see it with their eyes on the floor. David did though. They both knew what Darlin was going to say—what they had thought. It was fine when the vamp was an asshole to them. Like it didn’t matter when it was them getting hurt.

“He tried to feed on this human who wasn’t into it and I made him stop. Broke up with him. Told him if I saw him pulling that shit again I’d report him.” Their voice got smaller and smaller.

David crouched in front of them, hands on either side of their chair and face in their downcast line of sight. Darlin looked worn thin, haunted, and tired. He tried not to think about someone taking advantage of them, pinning them down and using them like a blood bag—let alone someone they had trusted.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Asher asked, voice soft without judgement. He was right next to them.

David saw the answer on Darlin’s face. It had never occurred to them to tell anyone in the pack about it. It was their problem. Even now, he could see the flicker of worry in their eyes like they thought they were in trouble. “I’ll handle it,” they promised him.

David shook his head, grinding his teeth. “You’re not supposed to handle shit like that alone. No one expects you to.”

Darlin looked away, visibly shivering.

David picked up their shirt and bunched it up, holding it out for them to put their arms through. They did and he pulled the shirt back on them, careful of those cuts and bruises. “I’ll get the truck. Ash, you walk them out?”

Asher nodded and David stared at Darlin for another second, their eyelids already blinking slow. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the office, hitting the lights on his way out toward the back, checking and locking the den up on his way, just like he knew Asher would do on his way toward the front. They would talk about this more when they got home, when Darlin was fed and sleeping someplace safe where they could watch out for them.

Asher picked up Darlin’s jacket off the floor and helped them into it.

They mumbled a thanks and started walking. It was more of a shuffle but at least they weren’t passing out, not that Asher gave them room to faint without him right there to catch them. He flicked off lights on their way to the front of the building, always keeping an eye on Darlin. He remembered where all the bites and bruises were—could almost see them in his memory laid over their jacket now.

How could someone do that?

And from the sound of it, the vamp was their ex. Someone they’d been with. Someone they’d let near them. It was a special club and this fucker was spitting on it. It made his skin crawl and his teeth ache to grow. He kept flexing his jaw, trying to remind himself not to shift when he thought about it—thought about this guy coming back to attack Darlin. Once? Twice? How many of those marks were consensual and how many weren’t?

They stepped outside, the air cold as the sun was setting. He turned on the alarm and closed the door, making sure it was latched with a good shake.

He was surprised to see Darlin turning to start walking away, toward the subway.

Asher caught their arm and pulled them back, leaning them against the wall. He didn’t miss how their eyes widened, watching him in confusion but at least not fear. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” Darlin lied. He could tell it was a lie. Where were they really going?

“Yeah, David’s getting the truck and then we’ll go home.”

Darlin blinked at him. “I don’t need a ride.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Asher laughed, standing in front of them. They’d have to physically bump into him to get away from the wall and walk away. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d done it, but he knew sometimes they needed to feel like they should stay put to keep themself from running. “You’re coming back to the apartment with us. You can sleep there.”

Darlin stared at him. “What? No… No, I…”

“Where were you really going?” Asher asked.

“What?”

“You were lying about going home. Do you need to go someplace else?”

“I…No. I don’t. I just…” They glanced over his shoulder, to the glints of daylight sinking over the city.

Asher’s smile faded. “You can’t go home at night, can you?”

Darlin tensed, schooling their features to look like they didn’t care again—like they weren’t scared. “Of course, I can.”

Asher exhaled hard, almost a laugh. “Why do you do that, Darlin? You don’t ever need to lie to me. I’m not going to use it against you. You know that.” He caught their gaze and held it. “Just tell me.”

Darlin looked like they might blow him off again—might even push off the wall and away from him and walk away. But they didn’t. Too tired in their body or maybe too tired in their heart. “He’ll go to the apartment at night. I keep moving to try to stay away from him until sunup. I made it almost five days but then he caught up to me last night.”

Asher nodded slowly, taking that in. “What’s his name?”

Darlin sighed, body relaxing a fraction like there was a real weight to holding all of this themself and even just telling Asher those small truths had lightened the load. “Quinn.”

Asher nodded again. He reached out, slow enough that they’d see his hand coming before his fingers reached their face, brushing messy hair back from their face and then settling his palm against the side of their neck, not touching any of their wounds but making contact.

“I just need to get some sleep,” Darlin mumbled.

Asher thought they needed a lot more than sleep, but it would be a good start. “I’ll get you sleep,” he promised.

David’s truck rumbled low when he pulled around the block from the parking garage on the back and up along the sidewalk.

Asher tugged Darlin away from the wall and walked them to the vehicle. He got them up and in and then followed, sandwiching them between himself and David. They were asleep before David had them buckled, leaning against Asher’s shoulder.

Asher looked at that white bandage peeking out from their collar again.

Quinn was going to pay.

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #fanfic #asher/darlin/david #darlin is a precious mess #david is a king #asher could be so scary if he wanted to be #quinn doesn't make an appearance but he sucks and i feel like that should be mentioned #<3

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vendettaparker · 3 years ago

Text

You Say the Whole World’s Ending (Honey, It Already Did) [P.P]

Summary: Peter mourns his greatest loss.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Character death, angst, typos, throwing up

a/n: hi! i’m genuinely so sorry for how sad this is lol. i had to write this idea down before i forgot it. that one bo burnam song really got me :( here it is if you want to hear it! hope you enjoy and as always reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ok. back to my hiatus :)

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“Today, the world mourns the loss of one of the most innovative teens in existence,” The news reported stated with tears in her eyes, “Last night, (Y/N) Stark was found dead after going missing for three months. The cause of death has not yet been disclosed and her family asks for privacy during this time of grieving. The world shares in this pain, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say, (Y/N), you will be missed.”

The clouds muddled over the compound, creating a darkness that sheathed over the building while the rain pittered over the roof and windows. As cliche as it was, Pepper and Tony provided black umbrella to all the guests at the graveyard. Together they huddled over the casket with their umbrellas, attempting to keep the rain off of the perfect mahogany the best they could.

Morgan clung to her mothers leg and scratched at her neck, uncomfortable in the pearls she was forced in, too young to understand what she had just lost. Tony kept his arm around Pepper, trying to hold on to what family he had left, begging whatever god was out there to give him respite from his pain.

Pepper gripped her umbrella with an iron fist, recalling when she first met you. Small and shy as you were, you quickly warmed up to her as she showed you to your room.

“Is this her?” Pepper asked as you cowered behind Tony’s leg, a small backpack hung loosely on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded with a proud smile, “this is (Y/N).” Tony bent down, motioning for Pepper to join him as she greeted you with a warm smile. “This is Pepper, (Y/N),” Tony placed a hand on your shoulders, “she’ll help watch you when I’m away.”

You nodded and held your hand out to her. Pepper grasped it in her perfectly manicured fingers and held it tightly, “I think we’ll be good friends,” she smiled, giving your fingers a sweet kiss.

Pepper not only lost her daughter; she lost her best friend as well.

Peter couldn’t even go. May begged him to go, trying to pull him out of the rut he’d been in for the last three months. She did the best she could, but deep down she knew. She knew all too well the pain of losing your soulmate, and as young and naive as Peter was, he still managed to find that in you.

Peter felt hopeless. He had held out hope for months, thinking that by some miracle you;d get to come home. That you’d walk through the door and run up to him, pulling him into your warmth and smashing your soft lips onto his. Every night he dreamed of you. Your laugh and your jokes. The way you scrunched your nose when he said something stupid, but then laughed along with him. The way you’d ruffle his hair as he laid in with his head nuzzled in your chest. The way you’d rush into school so fast, you nearly knocked him over when you found him. Those dreams, or more so, memories kept him going. And now he had nothing.

He was stuck in a world without you. And at a certain point, he wondered if it was even worth living in. He was wrong. He used to think that good things happened to good people, but he was wrong. You were as good as it got and you still ended up in the ground.

“Peter,” Sam said from the other side of the call, “you gotta come to the compound.” He hung up before Peter could even get a word in, but when he arrived at the building, he understood why.

Sam met him at the door, tears crusted around his dark eyes, and the look he gave Peter evoked immediate dread.

Peter could hear Pepper’s screaming sobs from inside. The cries of all the Avengers filtered through his ears into his head like nails on a chalkboard. And as unsettling as it was, he knew.

Sam guided him through to the medbay, and part of him secretly hoped he was wrong. It wasn’t until he held your cold hand in his overly warm ones that it hit him. And then the screaming started.

“No,” Peter murmured as the tears began dancing around in his vision, “no, no, no.” Peter shook his head, “I-It’s not her.” He said, but it was more of a terrible wish he put out into the universe, “please, it’s not—no. She’s strong—stronger than that, she wouldn’t—I-I don’t understand.”

Peter whipped his head around and the whole team could see the tears uncontrollably flowing out of his eyes as he heaved. The hyperventilating, mixed with the cries of everyone else in the room was making him nauseous. Before he could properly process what was going on he was running to the window, throwing it open and spewing brown goo out into the yard.

Happy ran over and rubbed his back and shoulder, “It’s okay, Pete. Come on now, breathe.”

Peter screamed and heaved out sobs as more brown chucks spilled from his lips. When he was done, he collapsed into Happy and the large man wrapped his arms around Peter’s shaking frame.

“I–It’s not true,” Peter begged, “Happy—” he pleaded, only to be shushed.

“I know,” Happy cried, “I know it’s hard, Peter. But you have to calm down.”

Tony, having just lost his daughter, saw Peter’s breakdown and left the room. Pepper by his side, drawing her cries out in his t-shirt.

“H-How can I?” Peter wailed, “I want her back, I want her back! (Y/N)!” Peter crawled out of Happy’s embrace, up the bed that held your limp frame. He tugged on the sheet that Bruce had put over your head, ripping it to expose your beautiful face.

“No,” Peter cried, sloppily running his hands over your face, “no, (Y/N).” Peter rubbed his thumbs under your eyes and held his cheek against yours, only feeling the icy prick of your skin on his, “come on, please get up, please. I-I had so many things to tell you. I had s-so much left to—I—I never got to marry you, (Y/N), please. Please d-don’t leave.”

Every watery plea was only met with a painful silence on your end. The only sounds to accompany the dreadful silence were the wails coming from the boy’s mouth.

And now he was here, sitting alone in his room, on the same bed you used to cuddle him in. If he tried really hard, if he focused enough he could still smell the lavender shampoo you used. It was such a little comfort, but it was all he had.

May accompanied Happy to the funeral, letting him rest his head on her as the tears flowed from his eyes.

“She was so special,” Happy recalled with a sniffle, “so special.”

“Yeah,” May whispered, swallowing her own sob, “in more ways than one.” She placed her yellow rose on the casket, blowing a little kiss to it with a small prayer, thank you. Thank you for being Peter’s love.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug @waitimcomingtoo @rosyparkers @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx @celestialholland @hollandcrush @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468 @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs @worldoftom

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland peter parker #spiderman x reader #tom holland spiderman #peter parker fic

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stutterfly · 4 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

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