#reposting bc the last one got deleted somehow

[lalunanne]

Based on that one meme

[stutterfly]

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.

[ktheist]

girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

x

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him  and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses.  Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 11 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7 - CH.8 - CH.9 - CH.10

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER GOT DELETED BC TUMBLR WANTED TO MAKE ME CRY FOR A BIT SO I HAD TO REPOST..

Warnings: mentions of sexual trauma

CHAPTER 11

You shot a glance at Sarah once she finished spilling all your business. You watched as she gave you an innocent smile after realising you didn’t want everyone to know about Rafe yet.

“Look, I can explain alright?” You sighed as you reached for a beer. It was going to be a long day.

“Please do.” Kie muttered, raising her eyebrow at you.

You looked at JJ who was staring straight into your eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry but either of those options made your stomach twist.

“He promised that if I faked it for a night, he would leave all of us alone which means th-”

“And you believed him?” Pope was quick to cut you off.

“Why would you even trust Rafe Cameron in the first place?” John B added.

“If you would all stop interrupting me, then maybe I would be able to clear your doubts.” You spat coldly at your friends.

“Go on then.” Kie nodded.

“It’s just for the night, so he can be on the clear with his father and have no problems whatsoever,” you bit your lip, “after that I’m completely done with him.”

The silence was broken by JJ’s sarcastic laugh, making you immediately stare at his movements.

“Well I think it’s bullshit,” he gulped down his beer before standing up, “and if you’re trusting Rafe Cameron, then you can’t be trusted either.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives on the chest.

He definitely felt betrayed by you but his anger was stronger than the pain he was feeling. He tossed the empty beer on the sand, ignoring Kie’s complaining and gave you a final glare before walking away from the group.

“JJ,” you sighed and rushed to walk towards him, ignoring whatever your friends were complaining about as well, “JJ wait!”

You tried to walk faster towards him but the sand wasn’t letting you catch up to his pace.

“JJ stop!” You yelled a little louder but he kept walking.

You decided to run towards him, ignoring how ridiculous you looked trying to run in the sand for trying to chase a guy.

“JJ let me talk to you.” You grabbed his arm making him turn to face you.

His eyes drifted to the sea, not bothering to look at yours.

He was stubborn and you knew him too well to know how whenever he gets angry, his mind becomes clouded with his own thoughts, not bothering to listen or try to understand anything.

“Do you honestly think I want to talk to you right now?” He spat out.

But he was not the only stubborn one here, you were not going to let him leave without first making him listen to you.

“I want you to listen.”

“I don’t want to listen.” His jaw clenched and he pulled his arm away from you.

You were starting to get annoyed but you couldn’t blame him for feeling this way.

“JJ stop walking away from me!”

“You listen to me!” He raised his voice at you as he walked closer to you, your eyes starting to water at his actions, “I cannot trust you if you keep lying to my face!”

“I never lied to you JJ!”

“You said you were not going back to him!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why the fuck are you going as his girlfriend to the stupid party?!”

His eyes were filled with anger and your face probably looked like the one of a scared puppy since JJ’s features softened at the realisation of how loud he was raising his voice at you and how he was projecting his anger.

“I just can’t believe how you can still trust him after everything he’s done.” He lowered his voice but the anger still hadn’t left him.

“Nothing’s going to happen between us JJ,” you slowly walked closer to him, afraid he was going to walk away at any second, “I’m not going to let it happen.”

JJ licked his lips while shaking his head in frustration, he tried to avoid eye contact with you but failed once you softly caressed his cheek, making him calm down a bit.

“If that asshole lays a finger on you, I promise I’m going to kill him.” He muttered as his breathing got slower.

“Sarah is going to be there,” you said and grabbed his hand, “and so will my parents JJ. It’s just one night and then Rafe will be out of our lives.”

His eyes softened as you kept caressing his cheek and holding his hand. You watched as he slightly nodded, knowing he was still not trusting Rafe.

“Let’s go home okay?” You whispered before giving him a light kiss.

The two of you went to your house, not really bothering on letting your friends know you weren’t going back to the beach. You were probably going to send a text later to Kie explaining her everything. Right now all you cared about was calming JJ down and letting him know things were going to be alright.

Once you were in the comfort of your bedroom you decided to grab some beers from the fridge to loosen up a bit and forget the tension that had built a few minutes ago.

You knew JJ was still upset and angry since he wasn’t really talking.

“Last to finish their beer has to cook dinner.” You playfully winked at him before taking a big gulp of your beer.

You noticed JJ take a sip of his beer, not really following your little game to cheer things up.

“JJ come on,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night.”

“It’s not only that Y/N,” he said softly this time, “it’s the fact you always tell me your relationship with him was bad and I know there’s something about him you’ve been hiding from me.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at your bed covers.

“Do you see?” JJ went on, “How can I trust you completely if you can’t even trust me?”

“I do trust you JJ,” you sighed, “I just,”

You took a deep breath, thinking about the right way to tell him.

“I have never talked about this to anyone because it scares me.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he moved closer to you.

“What do you mean Y/N?” He softly grabbed your hand.

“I just don’t know how to say it.” Your voice trembled and you felt your eyes start to tear up, JJ immediately cupping your face.

“Hey Y/N,” he whispered, “you can trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

You stared at his eyes while letting a few tears fall down your face. The two of you had already seen each other at your most vulnerable times and that’s what had made you feel so close to him.

You knew you had to tell JJ, you knew it was time to let it out, even if it scared you and even if you knew JJ would probably lose his shit.

You took a deep breath.

“I didn’t really want to do it with him,” your voice was low and soft and you noticed JJ’s jaw clench as he realised what you were talking about, “but I didn’t know how to tell him.”

You fought back the tears as you remembered the first time you had sex with Rafe and how you knew you weren’t ready but he somehow convinced you.

“It’s not like I told him I didn’t want to,” your voice trembled again, “I just let him do it because he was my boyfriend at the time even though I didn’t want to, and after the first time I didn’t want to do it again, but when I told him he got mad at me and he started hanging out with other girls so I just,”

You paused to stare at JJ, his eyes were once again filled with anger but there were also tears in them. His hand was still holding yours tightly, giving you the trust and confidence to keep going.

“I just did it again with him until I learnt to kind of enjoy it I guess? But there were more times I didn’t want to do it than times I did want to, and it just haunts me.”

You let the tears fall down as you felt a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

“JJ?” You asked once you noticed he remained silent, his eyes filled with tears and not leaving yours.

“That piece of shit.” He muttered as he trembled with rage.

“JJ,”

“I’m going to kill him.” He spat out coldly.

“JJ I told you this because I trust you, please,” you cupped his face, “stay out of this.”

“Are you kidding me Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “My fist on his face is the least I could to him to make him pay for what he did.”

“He never forced me to do it.”

“But he manipulated you Y/N.”

“I know that now,” you sighed, “but I didn’t know that back then.”

He nodded and bit his lip but you grabbed his face and made him stare straight into your eyes.

“I’m a different person now JJ, I’ve learnt from it.”

Just when his tears were about to fall down his face, he wrapped his arms around you, making you let out all the tears you were fighting back and feeling safe in his embrace.

“I will never hurt you Y/N,” he sobbed against your neck, “I’ll always take care of you.”

You weren’t even able to let out the words you wanted to tell him, you wanted to tell him how much you loved him but the words just wouldn’t come out because of your loud sobbing.

“I’ll be there.” He whispered once he let go of the embrace and cupped your face.

“What are you talking about?” You asked while wiping away the last tears falling from his eyes.

“I’m going to the party and I’ll be watching over you and I don’t care if your parents hate me for that.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes before nodding and softly placing your lips against his.

———————-

CH.12

A/N: I touched a pretty sensitive topic this chapter and I really want to talk about this. unwanted consensual sex (also known as gray zone sex) is a thing that happens to so many people and it’s not talked about enough. one of my closest friends experienced this and it has affected her sexual relationships deeply. if you’ve ever been through something like this please know that you’re not alone and you can always talk to me. you should never feel pressured to do sexual intercourse or any other sexual activities by anyone, not even your partner.

sorry for all the mess that’s been going on with my tumblr, I honestly don’t know what happened but tumblr support apparently already fixed it...

thank u so much if you’re still reading this story, means a lot!

——————–

[sunfloweradore]

i’m leaving this blog

hi! this post is a bit long but at the end you’ll find prompts and requests that you are free to use if you’re a writing blog :).

hi there!! if you’re reading this, i hope you’re doing well and staying safe. i just wanted to say that i’m leaving this blog and i’m not sure if i’ll ever come back. the years i’ve spent being a harrie have been great and it’s been a crazy amount of time! pretty much since the x factor! however, for a long time it’s also felt like i’ve been forcing myself to be a fan of harry’s. i’ve put so much energy into being a fan of his that it hasn’t been fun for me in a while and neither has writing fanfiction, which is what this blog is mainly for. it’s felt very difficult to sit down and write a fantasy about somebody who i might not even like anymore and in hindsight it seems a little dumb, but i did stress over writing all the time. this isn’t really about anybody i’ve interacted with on tumblr because you’re all lovely but sometimes it feels as though harries don’t treat him like he’s a human being and instead like he’s a god. me, included. even though i know we joke about harry being the only man we’d let degrade us or destroy our lives or whatever, he is still a person at the end of the day! it took me a very long time to realize that and thinking of him as otherworldly or completely perfect was my way of thinking for a while and i think it was pretty damaging. the fact that so many people would literally die for him is sad because unfortunately, none of us are going to be on his “level”, so to speak. we don’t know him personally and chances are we aren’t ever going to. ahhhh please don’t be mad at me for saying this, it’s just something i’ve realized i need to change about myself and i think it’s something we should all consider about everyone we are fans of. 

anyway, the time and energy i’ve spent on something so ridiculous is exponential and i really feel like it’s time to put it in the past. i’m dedicating this year to self-growth and part of that is learning how to be my own person. feeling like i have to be interested in something or someone in order to be normal has been a common theme in my life and harry has been that someone for as long as i can remember. this isn’t his fault of course but i’m getting older and i don’t want to think of this time in my life as the era that i was obsessed with harry styles. instead, i want to form memories and real life experiences instead of using fanfiction as a way to cope with all of the things that i can’t handle in my life. it worked for a while but at this point i’ve been reading it and writing it for so long that it feels like i’m living inside my head, like i’ve become dependent on it (obviously this is very bad lolol). so, long story short, i will be leaving this blog because it just isn’t good for me anymore. thank you to everyone who has requested things for me to write and anyone who has interacted with my writing. sorry i couldn’t get through them :(. i’d also like to thank everyone i met through this blog because you’re all such amazing people and you deserve the world. i will leave my writing up but the sentiment still applies- i’ve worked very hard on everything i’ve written so please don’t repost any of it without crediting me, thank you.

below are requests i couldn’t get to and prompts(?)/works that i never got to finish. feel free to use them if you want and tag me in them bc i’d love to see how you write them :)

1. paperboy harry!

i think the direction i wanted this to go in was kind of like a 40′s au? or just a long long time ago. not sure why i had this started seeing as i already have harry as a paperboy in a story of mine but go off ig

2. vampire harry!

i had a specific plot i wanted where harry was in a car wreck because of a vampire who ended up biting him in like an alleyway. reader saves him and is a vampire herself! she nurses him back to health n teaches him how to be a vamp with various shenanigans along the way

3. hospital au?

this one i’m not too sure about but if you’ve seen the red band society you’d sort of know the direction i was going with this. there’s kind of an in-between for people in the hospital who are fighting death or going into surgery and in that in-between is a boy who has been in a coma for a long time. i pictured this as being angsty and for harry to be the boy who guides people in certain directions but he ends up falling for the reader while she’s there

4. ghost au!

self explanatory but i pictured harry as the ghost who kind of just wants a friend lol

5. tea au?

this would probably be pretty short, i just thought it was cute! reader has different kinds of tea all the time and it’s a surprise each time he kisses her 

6. strawberry farm au?

reader has a strawberry farm LMAO maybe harry buys them from her or it’s another vampire au, who knows!

7. threesome

most likely has been done b4 but a threesome w 2 guys and the reader where the guy is inside harry while he is inside the reader

8. chocolate by the 1975

a fic based on that song! it would probably be from harry’s pov 

9. space au?

hmm i think i probably saw something that inspired this but all it says is “harry sends letters to space” so i’m assuming it’s an au where he just decided to send letters to space out of boredom or something and mayhaps alien reader finds one?

10. assassin au!

harry is an assassin and in my draft it’s super vague? and almost seems like he’s stalking the reader? it could go in any direction really but i’m assuming the reader is dating him and doesn’t know he’s an assassin

11. chapstick

very similar to the tea one! just w the reader wearing diff chapsticks all the time

12. shower

this is inspired by something i read on wattpad a long time ago and i’ve tried finding it but i think it might’ve been deleted. the reader flicks da bean all the time in the shower and is really loud about it, harry is distracted and confronts her

13. dang ANOTHER threesome

but this time harry is on a date with a girl and they’re at a bar- the girl is looking around, sees the reader and thinks she’s gorg and they end up having a threesome

14. photography au!

harry is a photographer who somehow ends up taking pictures of the reader. in my draft the reader asks him to delete the ones that are ugly but he keeps them all hehe

15. scrapbook au

similar to the last one, harry takes pictures of the reader a lot but it’s not bc he’s a photographer, he just thinks she’s pretty n wants to scrapbook. twist is that he has TWO scrapbooks- one of innocent pics and one that’s lustier (consensual ofc)

16. habits of my heart by jaymes young

self explanatory, angsty

17. roommate au?

this is for some reason also an assassin au? but they’re roommates and reader doesn’t know what he does. they’re bffs, mutual pining

18. don’t forget about me by clove

wow another song fic, big surprise

19. puppyy

harry gets a puppy who hates him :( but the puppy loves the reader!

20. mall au

lol this one is kind of dumb idk why i thought of it but harry is one of those kiosk people at the mall who sells perfume! dunno!

21. condoms

reader works at gas station, harry buys huge condoms

22. poetry

either person reads erotic poetry while touching the other

23. magic au

one of them makes a love potion, kind of dark? like making the other fall in love with them idk it could be an accident though

24. private chef

the reader is a private chef! that’s all i’ve got!

25. message board

this is inspired by..... the sims lmaooo you can pin messages to the message board in your apartment building and i thought it’d be cute if the reader and harry lived in the same building and he leaves notes on the board and she doesn’t know they’re for her! she always thinks they’re cute though

26. raisin theory

inspired by new girl! specifically a comment i saw in like a compilation? video of new girl on yt

i thought it’d be cute for harry to be that person

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Shook (Brick/Blossom)

{{Original posting unfortunately deleted. Reposted here.}}

Summary: When Butch and Buttercup’s fighting goes a bit too far, Blossom takes it upon herself to intervene. Reds.

xxx

Brick woke up with pinprick pain in his temples this morning, a sure indicator that today was going to be a bad day.

His headache only progressed throughout the day, and by the end of sixth period AP European History, he was fantasizing about how good Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI had it with that guillotine. Quick, painless, and blissful freedom from the squabbling peasants who would never have let them off easy anyway.

“Dude, you’re doing it again.”

Brick could feel his brother’s big, blue eyes on the back of his head as he unloaded his books at his locker. “What.”

“The resting serial killer face.”

Brick glanced at his reflection in the small mirror he had affixed to his locker door. Tired, red eyes stared back at him, mouth in a harsh, thin line, and his trademark red cap backwards over his red hair. His bangs were getting a little long.

He slammed the locker door. “Maybe take the hint.”

Boomer, unlike most of the plebeians at Townsville High School, didn’t cower in fear at his brother’s bloody glare. He smiled and threw a letter-jacket-clad arm over Brick’s shoulders. “Lighten up, man. It’s Friday! Julie’s party is tonight, remember?”

Shit, Brick had forgotten. He vaguely remembered agreeing to go to that.

“Someone say party?” Wes Goingon, a guy so pale he looked like he’d been bleached at birth, approached them hand in hand with his girlfriend, Kim Chan.

Kim smiled brightly at Brick. “Oh yeah, Julie’s! You guys are going, right?”

Boomer dragged Brick into step with their friends, and he was too tired to resist. “For sure.”

Brick sighed. “I don’t know, I’ve got a migraine. I might sit this one out.”

“No way, you gotta come!” Wes said. “It’s not a party without you.”

Kim nudged Brick affectionately. “He’s right, but if you’re not feeling well, you should stay home. I noticed you were kind of quiet today.”

“Shh, Kim, don’t give him a way out. Everybody’s gonna be there,” Boomer said. “It’s the last party before Fall Break!”

Fall Break, yes, that was an appealing prospect. A whole week off from school to do what he wanted without having to deal with all the bullshit of high school daily life. Brick didn’t hate it as much as he’d thought he would. Even with his reputation as a Rowdyruff Boy following him, there had been some brave souls who’d given him and his brothers a chance to be normal seventeen-year-old boys, something he hadn’t had back in Citiesville before transferring. Even if many were wary of him, there were a few like Wes and Kim who were so used to sharing the halls with Supers that they barely noticed the difference.

The four of them were approaching the west exit when Brick came across the last person he wanted to see. His migraine flared at the mere sight of her and the suspicion in her gaze that was as ubiquitous as her red hair ribbon whenever they unfortunately crossed paths.

“Hey Blossom!” Kim said, bounding over.

“Hi Kim,” Blossom said, bypassing her to approach Brick, but it turned out it wasn’t him she was looking for. “Boomer, I’m glad I ran into you. Have you seen my sister anywhere?”

Brick watched her talking to his brother like he wasn’t standing right there and felt his blood pressure begin to rise. No matter how much time he spent breathing the same air as this girl, he couldn’t get past his dislike of her. They were no longer arch enemies looking to grind each other into the ground, their childhood enmity mostly behind them now that they were older and more interested in living their lives in peace. But even so, Brick had never had any desire to befriend Blossom or her Super sisters, Bubbles and Buttercup.

Still, she didn’t have to ignore him so obviously. She was always doing petty crap like that. So juvenile.

Boomer, of course, had no such qualms about mingling with Townsville’s resident heroes. Brick wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow Boomer had befriended Bubbles, played sports with Buttercup, and was even on amicable terms with Blossom.

“Which one?” Boomer asked, running a hand through his short, blond hair like he was thinking about how it looked in front of her.

The fuck, Brick thought.

“Bubbles. She was supposed to meet me after class, but she’s not answering her phone.”

“No, sorry. I haven’t seen her since lunch.”

Blossom tugged on her long, red ponytail, something she did whenever she was troubled by something. Brick hated that he knew this about her.

“Oh, all right. Well, if you hear from her, can you let me know?”

“Sure thing.”

Her rosy gaze finally flickered to Brick, and she matched his frown. He told himself to ignore her and her unwarranted suspicion of him—it wasn’t like they were twelve anymore and he was going to rob a convenience store, for fuck’s sake—but he also was not about to look away first.

“Brick,” she said curtly, but she might as well have told him to go jump in a lake.

“Blossom,” he said just as clipped. And, just because he knew how annoyingly hyper-alert she got when they were around each other, he let his eyes flicker briefly over her figure, today clad in casual capris and a sleeveless top.

Just his luck that one of the hottest girls in school had such a frustrating personality.

Of course, she noticed him briefly checking her out and crossed her arms. Her pretty eyes narrowed, and the air around them charged. Boomer noticed her subtly spiking energy levels and shrank back instinctively. Brick held his ground, wondering if she’d tell him off. He kind of hoped she would if only to distract him from his pounding headache.

Wes and Kim, oblivious to the electrifying tension, were still talking about Blossom’s missing sister.

Or rather, sisters plural.

“Yeah, I think I saw them leave together. They were in kind of a hurry,” Wes said.

“Really? Since when are Butch and Buttercup so chummy?” Kim asked.

At the mention of his trigger-happy brother, Brick tore his gaze from Blossom. “What about Butch?”

Blossom also forgot her rising annoyance and focused on Wes. “What are you talking about? They left together?”

Wes looked between Brick and Blossom, and it was his turn to shrink. Friends or not, being on the receiving end of both Reds’ glares at the same time was enough to make a guy quail. “Uh, yeah, like I saw them both dash out after sixth period…”

“Together?” Blossom demanded.

“Kind of?” Wes put his hands up like he was trying to placate a pair of wild animals. “More like he dragged her out? I mean, not violently or something!”

Blossom paled, and Brick rolled his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. Butch couldn’t seem to go a full week without fighting the only person on the planet dumb enough to rise to his challenge every time. Mostly, Brick didn’t care what his brother did as long as it didn’t blow back on Boomer and him, and for the most part Butch behaved. But lately, he’d been hitting the gym twice a day and even pestering Brick for spars more often than usual. As if fighting Buttercup wasn’t enough of a challenge for him already.

“Oh, so they probably went to fight. Hey, maybe Bubbles is with them?” Boomer said.

Blossom was still white as a sheet. “They can’t fight right now. She’s in no condition.”

Brick was about to tell her to calm down, she was overreacting about every goddamned little thing as usual, but Blossom dashed off in a flash of pink before he could get a word in. Kim was knocked over with the force of it, and Boomer was forced to catch her when she bumped into Wes and they both almost went down.

“Jeez, what was that about?!” Kim griped.

“You okay?” Boomer asked.

Brick scowled deeply. What was she thinking using her powers in school? Of all people, Blossom would never. What had crawled up her ass today? He had half a mind to find out.

“Come on, Boomer,” he said.

“Wait, where are we going?”

But Brick dashed off in a blinding blaze of red in much the same fashion as Blossom before him, knocking all three of them down in his haste to catch up to her.

xxx

Buttercup heaved and spat blood. The Chemical X in her system was sluggish as it depleted so much faster than usual, and she felt Butch’s punches like a ton of bricks. He came in fast and hard again, and this time Buttercup dodged the brunt of his punch and sent him spinning away.

“C’mon, BC! Enough of this cat and mouse crap,” Butch taunted. “Fight me! Unless you’re too much of a pussy.”

“Fuck you,” Buttercup spat.

Trash talk had always been a part of their clashes, and normally it added to the fire she felt beneath her skin at the prospect of handing him his ass. But their last fight had been particularly brutal just a few days ago, and while Buttercup would never admit weakness, she was not fully recovered from it.

Should’ve listened to Blossom and taken that X supplement…

Buttercup silenced that traitorous thought. She didn’t need help. She was the toughest fighter for a reason. A little roughhousing didn’t merit all that coddling. Then again, she hadn’t expected Butch to be raring to go again so soon.

“Guys, really! I think you should just call it quits for today!” Bubbles said, hovering close but not close enough to get in between them. She was not suicidal.

Butch glanced at her askance. “Hey, no one asked you, Blondie. I don’t mind an audience, but this is between me ’n your sister, so be a good girl and mind your own fucking business.”

Buttercup seethed. “Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

The taunt was transparent, but Buttercup fell for it all the same. She always fell for it, her body screaming to meet his blow for blow even if her mind knew better. It had always been that way with Butch, supernatural. He’d been created to destroy her, and even now that they were older and grown out of that artificial good versus evil bullshit, sometimes she felt like he really was out to obliterate her. She lived for that challenge, that push to the limits of fear and fatality, knowing in her bones that no one could get her as close to the edge as Butch could.

And so, reckless in pursuit of that special high only he could give her, Buttercup rocketed toward him, her fists crackling green with power. Butch caught her fists in his, and their power exploded between them.

Buttercup was invincible for all of a half second, and then came the pain. She was blown back with such force that she went flying and landed hard in the parking lot of the Shankaplex movie theater, totaling two cars and ripping a crater open in the asphalt. Her body ached, and when she opened her eyes, she saw double.

“Buttercup!” Bubbles screamed.

But it wasn’t Bubbles who pulled her out of that crater. Butch’s rough hands had her by the collar of her shirt, and he lifted her like a rag doll. His arms smoked where Buttercup’s power had burned him, but his X was healing him fast, and pain had never bothered him anyway.

“Tsk tsk, taking a nap? Am I boring you that much?”

Buttercup could feel that he was about to throw her, and she made a grab for his wrists, only to find that her hands were bruised and cut, and her palms were slick with her own blood. Chemical X was barely healing her at all anymore. A brief flicker of panic petrified her, and Butch smelled it like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Guess it’s time to finish you off,” he said, grinning.

But he never got the chance, because Bubbles swooped in and tackled him into a movie poster display at full power. Buttercup fell to her knees, coughing and shaking in pain, but her thoughts were only of Bubbles. That inkling of panic she’d felt before blossomed into full-on fear for her baby sister. Bubbles was no match for Butch, not when he was raring to go like this.

As if to prove her fears true, Bubbles went crashing into the asphalt next to Buttercup seconds later, having taken one of Butch’s punishing punches to the stomach dead on. Buttercup stared at her fallen sister and shook with rage.

“What the fuck, Butch! You leave her out of this!” Buttercup screamed at him.

Butch cracked his neck. A horrible gash on his face where Bubbles had injured him sealed before Buttercup’s eyes as the X in his system came to his aid.

“I’m okay,” Bubbles said, sitting up and clutching her stomach. “Just a little winded…”

“Hey, she threw the first punch. Don’t be jealous, BC. You know you’re my main squeeze.” He grinned salaciously at her.

Excruciatingly, Buttercup forced herself to get up. Her limbs were on fire. Logically, she knew she could not take Butch in her state. She had no idea how he had recovered faster than her—fucking teenage boy hormones—but he was in top form and she couldn’t hope to face him fairly like this. Fear faded to fury at her own shortcomings. They were supposed to be equals, but nothing she threw at him could bring him down today.

Still, Buttercup had never forfeited a fight, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“Buttercup, no! You can’t fight him like this! Let me—”

“Shut up, Bubbles,” Buttercup hissed. No way was she going to let Bubbles clean up her mess. Butch was and always would be her problem. She wasn’t going to let him near her sister.

Butch laughed. “That’s more like it. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, here!”

He shot off again, and Buttercup braced herself for a world of pain. If she could just tire him out enough to call it quits, that would be enough without having to forfeit, surely.

A blinding blast of pink energy intercepted Butch before he could ram Buttercup, and she was blown back into Bubble’s arms before she could eat concrete again. When she came to, she saw Blossom’s long ponytail fluttering past her waist, her bare arms sparking with raw, pink power and a deep crag in the concrete leading from her to where Butch now kneeled, smoking and breathing heavily.

Manic jade looked up at Blossom, and despite herself, Buttercup shuddered at the sight. He was good and pissed off now. “And then there were three, huh? I’m in high demand today.”

Blossom ignored him. “Buttercup, are you okay?”

Buttercup’s ire flared again. “I’m fine. What’re you doing here?”

Blossom shot her a glare over her shoulder. “Cleaning up your mess, as usual. What were you thinking fighting him in your state? You know you’re not recovered.”

Pride told Buttercup to defy her imperious sister, but shame and guilt knowing Blossom was right held her back. But it wasn’t like she’d had a choice! When Butch got it in his head that he wanted a fight, there was no stopping him. Before Buttercup got a chance to snap back at Blossom, they were interrupted again.

“What the fuck is this?” Brick landed next to Butch.

Butch rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Nothing. This is between me and Buttercup.”

Brick’s creepy eyes scanned the ruined parking lot and the few civilians who had poked their heads out of the movie theater to gape at the Supers like fish out of water. “You, Buttercup, and the Mayor’s office when I have to make a case to the city not to fine us for all this property damage.”

An admiring whistle drew everyone’s attention to Boomer hovering a short ways away surveying the damage. “Damn, Butch. You got something against Frozen 2?”

Sure enough, the new kids’ movie advertisement poster was totally destroyed thanks to the explosive fight.

“Huh?” Butch said.

“Enough,” Blossom said. “Brick, take your brother home. He’s done enough damage for one day.”

Brick glared at her, and Buttercup braced herself for the spat she knew was coming.

“We’re not finished here,” Butch said before Brick could get into it with Blossom. “So why don’t you march that fine ass back to chess club or whatever the hell you do after school?”

Brick turned his glare on Butch, and Buttercup felt its departure like the cruel summer sun dipping behind the clouds.

Bubbles gasped. “No! Buttercup, you can’t fight him anymore! I told you this was a bad idea!”

Blossom somehow looked even more incensed. “You came here willingly? I rushed over here thinking Butch had forced you into a fight. Buttercup, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking this has nothing to do with you,” Buttercup said petulantly.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Blossom growled in frustration. “Why is it always a fight with you? You know what, I don’t care. We’ll talk about this later. Bubbles, take her home.”

Bubbles moved to do that, but one look from Buttercup stayed her hand. No way, no fucking way was Buttercup going to let her big sister swoop in and embarrass her like this. Butch would never let her live it down.

“Hey! Are you deaf? I said this is between me and Buttercup. I’m not gonna tell you again, Blossom.”

Butch bared his teeth, and Buttercup felt her skin crawl. He was seriously not done yet, and a very small part of her began to feel the fear creeping back in. She was not in any condition to fight him, she knew that, but he was in no condition to stop.

“Butch,” Brick warned.

But Butch smacked his hand away. His whole body sparked with green energy, ready to snap. Despite herself, Buttercup swallowed hard.

“Fine,” Blossom said. “You want a fight? I’ll give you the fight of your life.”

Buttercup gaped open-mouthed at her sister, not sure if she’d heard right. Blossom never fought unless all other avenues were exhausted, and she certainly never fought Butch. Even Brick looked momentarily stunned at her challenge.

Butch was quicker to recover and burst out laughing. “Good one! Now seriously, get the hell outta my way.”

Blossom didn’t budge. “No.”

All traces of humor left Butch as he regarded her, and then he glanced at Brick. “Hey, I’m not gonna tell you again. I’m not here for you, so move.”

Blossom was busy removing her pearl studs and bracelet. When she held them out, Buttercup was still too stunned to do anything but accept them without protest.

“This won’t take long,” Blossom said, tightening her ponytail.

“Brick,” Boomer said warily, landing next to his brother.

Brick bristled. “Forget this. I’ll fight you, you fucking masochist.”

“No way bro,” Butch said, stepping forward. “Ladies first. She wants me, can’t you tell?”

Blossom actually laughed, stunning Buttercup for the second time in as many minutes. “Honestly, Buttercup, how do you take this boy seriously?”

Buttercup wanted to be mad, but Butch’s reaction was so sudden and so visceral that it gave her whiplash. He began to shake as his power leaked out of him and clogged the air like noxious fumes. That little, emasculating laugh got him more worked up than any number of Buttercup’s punches had today.

“Hey.” Buttercup reached for Blossom and they locked gazes. She shivered at the cold look in her sister’s eyes. It was one she had not often seen, but one she knew better than to question. The instinct to shrink back was so overwhelming that Buttercup felt her stomach turn, and it was not even directed at her.

She remembered a fight many, many years ago when Princess Morbucks had pushed Blossom too far in her pursuit of power. It was the first time Buttercup had ever seen that remorseless look in her sister’s eyes, and she would never forget it.

Butch was no longer grinning. “I’m gonna enjoy putting you in your place.”

Blossom cocked her head. She was still smiling that eerie, cold smile. “I’m waiting.”

That did it. Before anyone could blink, Butch was coming straight for her, fists blazing.

xxx

“Oh shit!” Boomer flew up to join Bubbles, Buttercup, and Brick in the air as they watched Blossom and Butch collide in a conflagration of pink and green. Butch’s punches, delivered hard and swift enough to break the sound barrier, carried like thunder. “Should we, like, do something?!”

Brick was eerily silent next to him as he followed the fight with a calculating eye. “If he hits her, she’s done for.”

“Like hell,” Buttercup spat. “She’s strong. You should know.”

“Wait, I thought you were the one who was against this?” Boomer asked.

Buttercup grimaced, but she stubbornly refused to let on how much pain she was in. Now that Boomer got a good look at her, she really looked trashed. Jesus, had Butch really done that to her?

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know my sister. She can take him.”

“Except she can’t,” Brick said, watching as Butch fired a green energy beam at Blossom that sent her careening high into the clouds. “I know her too. She’s a glass cannon.”

Blossom’s pink streak came flying in faster than Boomer had ever seen her fly, and Butch was waiting for her with a welcome punch that connected with her ribs. But Blossom swerved with his force and rammed her elbow mercilessly against the back of his neck. Her blunt force was so great that he went cashing into the woods beyond the Shankaplex, where he landed with a monstrous crack. Blossom waited for him to reemerge, a hand pressed to her side but otherwise masking her pain.

Bubbles gasped, and Buttercup shot Brick a scathing grin. “You were saying?”

Brick’s eyes were glued to Blossom. “Butch hits like a freight train. She won’t be able to absorb his punches indefinitely.”

Buttercup laughed, but in her injured state, it came out more like a wheeze. “Dude, you don’t know this Blossom.”

Brick glanced at her askance, and Boomer wondered. What did that mean?

“That tickled!” Butch shouted as he came flying back ready to go again. “Do it again!”

Blossom was silent as she waited for him to come to her. He came in hot, but this time she didn’t let his punch connect. More elegantly than Boomer thought her capable of, Blossom avoided him entirely, grabbed his hair, and kneed him in the stomach.

Boomer gasped—gasped, because holy hell—as Butch hacked up a lung and clutched his stomach. “I think she broke some ribs!” Chemical X or no, that one really had to hurt.

Blossom put some distance between Butch and herself and took a deep breath.

“Incoming!” Bubbles dashed away with Buttercup, and Boomer shoved Brick out of the path of danger just in time to avoid getting caught up in Blossom’s powerful ice breath.

Butch didn’t even try to avoid it, and soon he was covered in a layer of thick ice. Not one to be restrained, however, his eyes glowed red and his eye beams burst through the ice. Blossom avoided the laser that wasn’t really aiming at her anyway and came in from behind to catch him unawares.

Unfortunately, Butch was not bothered by the ice and burst out of it just as Blossom came in close. He managed to grab her ponytail and reel her in like a fish. The punch he landed on her jaw sent her spinning, and she hit a billboard advertising pet food right through Talking Dog’s face.

“Ha!!! Take that!” Butch dashed after her, and Boomer watched as Blossom peeled herself off the destroyed billboard and narrowly avoided a second pummeling. Butch hit the billboard and knocked the whole structure over like a falling domino. It was only Bubbles’ timely intervention that kept it from crashing on top of a Cooper’s Market.

Pink and green sped around each other as Butch chased Blossom. He fired his eye beams and his green energy beams in the hopes of hitting her at a distance, but she was quick and extremely precise in her movements in a way Boomer knew he himself was not, and Butch was even less coordinated than him. It was like watching Brick, he realized. Brick was so in control of his body, of every single minute movement he made, that it didn’t matter that he wasn’t physically as strong as Butch or as fast as Boomer. There was no surprising him or tripping him up, and Blossom was no different.

But did Butch know that?

“Stop running! I thought you were gonna give me the fight of my life, what happened? You scared?” Butch taunted as he tried to catch Blossom.

She was stony-faced as she avoided his grabs and his eye beams alike, but made no effort to return fire or respond.

“That’s risky,” Brick muttered.

“What’s risky?” Boomer asked.

“She’s trying to tire him out, hoping he’ll burn up all his X. But Butch has more reserves than you or me. His stamina’s even better than Buttercup’s.”

“That’s not what she’s doing,” Bubbles said.

Brick shot her a withering look like he couldn’t believe she dared to contradict him. “Oh, really?” he said sarcastically.

Bubbles didn’t even flinch. “Really.”

Brick scoffed and returned his attention to the fight.

“What’s the matter, Blossom! Get over here and fight me!”

Butch threw another punch that she artfully avoided. Pissed off, he shot at her with his eye beams, but Blossom swerved and struck him with the heel of her hand under the jaw. His eye beams went awry.

“Shit!” Buttercup said.

Brick was paying closer attention than Boomer, however, and intercepted the stray eye beams before they could strike anyone. His jacket sleeve smoked and sizzled where a new hole had opened up.

“Tch,” he said.

Butch shook himself out like a wet dog. He was bleeding from his mouth and his eyes were dilated, but he was still fighting fit. If he was wearing out, he was hiding it well. Boomer glanced at Bubbles.

“So what is Blossom doing?”

Bubbles looked more concerned than grim as she watched. “She’s feeling him out.”

“She’s making him mad,” Buttercup said.

Boomer winced. That didn’t sound like a good idea facing Butch. The guy was an unstoppable force when he was mad.

“But why—”

Crack!

Boomer whipped around just in time to see that Butch had finally landed another hit on Blossom and sent her flying out of control. She clutched her side as he sped after her, no longer laughing or taunting; he just wanted to finish her off now, it seemed. Beside Boomer, Brick sucked in an audible breath as he watched.

Butch wound up a punch. Blossom wasn’t moving to avoid. Boomer lost his mind.

“Watch out!” he screamed at her, unable to help himself.

Buttercup and Brick looked at Boomer like he’d grown another head. Butch caught up to Blossom, but just as his punch connected, she grabbed his wrist, spun gracefully behind him, and unleashed her eye beams at point blank range on the back of his neck.

Even Brick winced at that one.

“Fuck yeah!!” Buttercup shouted. “How’s that taste, Butch!”

Butch staggered in the air, his hands clutching his smoking neck. They came away bloody. Boomer didn’t miss the filthy look he shot Blossom.

“Forfeit,” Blossom called to him. “You can’t win.”

“Fuck you,” Butch spat. “I was going easy on you. No more.”

With a crackle of energy, Butch’s signature shield materialized around him. And then, he was after her again.

xxx

That’s it. She’s done, Brick thought to himself.

As soon as Butch brought out his shield, there was little and less to be done about it aside from waiting him out. Even Brick had trouble against him when he donned what was essentially impenetrable armor.

It was kind of a shame, really. She’d surprised him in this fight. Brick couldn’t recall her taking hits so well when they’d clashed in the past. Granted, that was years ago, but still.

He glanced at her sisters. They were still watching the fight, but they didn’t seem particularly deterred. Brick narrowed his eyes, and he considered.

Could she really…?

“Hiding behind your shield? How predictable,” Blossom taunted him, something Brick had rarely known her to do.

“I predict you’re about to eat shit!” Butch hurtled after her, but she danced ever out of reach.

His shield was truly something. It molded roughly to the shape of him, extending with his punches and folding with his blocks. It was a drain on his X reserves, but it was his best and only real defense.

Blossom couldn’t know this, though. Blossom had never fought Butch. But then, she was fast learning him with every punch, every dodge, every overreaction to her baiting.

Despite himself, Brick’s attention was fully arrested as he watched them. Even his migraine had subsided to a dull ache as he ignored it in favor of following the fight.

Blossom got in a good punch, but Butch’s shield was truly impenetrable, and all she got for her efforts was a crackle of jade sparks and a hurt fist. She immediately pulled back.

“That shield is so strong!” Bubbles said.

Buttercup grunted. Blossom didn’t try to hit Butch again, but he did his level best to strike her.

“Hey, is this what they call playing hard to get?” Butch sneered as he lobbed another punch at Blossom.

“I’m right here, Butch. Come and get me,” she taunted again.

What the hell is she playing at?

The Blossom Brick knew was not one to joke and jab, but the more she did it, the more riled up Butch got. She couldn’t possibly be trying to make him mad. That was suicidal for anyone who wasn’t Brick himself. And that shield…

“C’mon and give us a hug!” Butch sped after her, his only goal to grab her and crush her under the force of his shield. Sloppy and uncoordinated, but if he managed to grab her, that would be the end of it.

“What the—?!” Boomer sputtered.

Brick barely had time to be shocked as Blossom stopped her flight and spread her arms as if to hug Butch like he wanted. Brick was moving before he could process it, a command on the tip of his tongue, because no matter how much he despised Blossom, he couldn’t very well let his brother literally kill her.

Butch grabbed her before Brick could reach them, and Blossom flexed as she braced herself, her pink power manifesting like a second skin as Butch wrapped his meaty arms around her smaller frame with every intention of snapping her in half. Buttercup shouted something, but Brick couldn’t hear her over the racing wind in his ears as he tore after them, and then—

“F-F-Fuck!” Butch groaned.

His shield, his whole body was engulfed in preternatural ice as Blossom hugged him tight enough to break. Her arms were covered in ice that would not shatter no mater how much Butch struggled. He tried to fire off his eye beams, but she had ducked her head under his chin, safe from his fire. Impossibly, his green shield began to collapse as the ice and Blossom herself crushed him like a soda can.

They crash landed well away from the Shankaplex and any civilians just by the edge of the forest. Brick swooped down after them, the others not far behind. When he landed, he found Butch face down eating dirt and covered in chunks of ice, his shield completely dissipated, as Blossom towered over him. She had his wrists in her hands and her boot on the back of his head, grinding him further into the ground. Ice coated her arms like armor, and there was no mercy in her eyes.

“B-Blossom, babe, c’mon,” Butch said in what was meant to be a playful tone, but came out sounding like a whimper.

Blossom leaned down over him. “Call me babe again.” She drove her heel harder into the side of his head, sinking him deeper into the earth.

Butch struggled against her. He fired green energy beams from his palms, but Blossom pulled harder on his arms and sent them harmlessly awry.

“Let me be perfectly clear, Butch. You’re going to leave my sister alone for the rest of the month while you both recover.” She peered at him over her knee until his green eye swiveled to see her. “Tell me you understand.”

He grinned, and his teeth were a red ruin. “I don’t take orders from you—ah fuck!”

Blossom yanked his left arm back and dislocated it with a severe pop. She twisted the other one behind his back and hauled him up by his hair. “You do now.”

Her eyes glowed red, her hair was a windswept mess, and she had Butch—Butch, the fiercest fighter—on his fucking knees under her absolute control, and it was single-handedly the most beautiful sight Brick had ever seen in his life. It was perfect, and she was…

For a mad moment, he imagined her pinning him on his knees, her hand fisting his hair, exerting that control he had always pursued but never from her, until this moment.

“Brick, shouldn’t you…?” Boomer said.

Realizing she and Butch had an audience, Blossom looked up and locked eyes with Brick, and he shivered.

Oh hell.

“Hey, I like you on your knees,” Buttercup said, approaching Butch and Blossom. “Definitely your best angle.”

Butch spit blood and a piece of broken tooth. Nonetheless, he managed a smirk for her. “Next time, just ask.”

Blossom shoved him back into the dirt, and he promptly shut up.

Boomer sighed and floated over. “C’mon, dude. Let’s get you home.”

“I got it,” Butch complained, but he struggled to get to his feet.

“You seriously don’t. Can you even stand? Jesus.”

“Blossom!” Bubbles hugged her sister, who winced at the pressure.

“Bubbles, not so tight! I’m a little sore.” She smiled and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“You were amazing!”

Blossom grinned. “I know.”

“Serves you right, moron,” Buttercup said to Butch. “You’ll be pissing sitting down for a week.”

Boomer snorted as he looped Butch’s arm over his shoulder. “You got that right.”

“Ha ha, hilarious. Fuck you both,” Butch groused. His eyes flickered to Blossom, guarded.

“Brick? You coming?” Boomer asked.

Brick rubbed his mouth. He felt woozy. Bubbles shot him a curious look that he chose not to dwell on. “Take that idiot home. Make sure he doesn’t bleed all over the place.”

“Uh, right… What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m right behind you.”

His brothers flew off—or rather, Boomer flew and Butch dangled precariously from his shoulder. Finally, Brick turned his attention to Blossom.

“Blossom,” he said, his voice tight.

She looked up at him. “Brick.”

He swallowed, the image of her dominating Butch while she looked at him burned into his mind’s eye. So that was never going away… “Butch is my problem. Next time, you leave him to me.”

She regarded him, and so slowly he may have imagined it had he not been hyper-focused on her every movement, her lips curled in little smirk. “There’s not going to be a next time.”

In that moment, Brick had never felt so bewildered and so attracted to another person in his entire life. It was over all too soon as she showed him her back and spoke to her sisters. They were heading home. Like a fucking idiot, he just stood there, mind blown.

Did that really just happen?

Oh god, she was talking to him again. He blinked and tried to focus.

“What?” he said, fucking idiot that he was.

“The repairs. Look, I know you would rather chew glass than be around me, but you know the Mayor appreciates an in-person explanation and apology for this kind of damage. Are you coming, or do I have to tell him once again that you couldn’t be bothered?”

“No, I’m coming. I’ll talk to the Mayor with you.”

She peered at him like she didn’t quite recognize him. “All right… Thanks.”

xxx

That evening, after all was said and done and Boomer was showered and ready to go to Julie’s party, he gave Brick one more chance to come along instead of languor at home with a passed out Butch. The guy was out cold and would likely remain so for the next day after the beating Blossom had dealt him.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” he asked.

Brick was lounging on the living room sofa where he had his nose in a Kurt Vonnegut novel. “No.”

“Everyone’s gonna be there, you know.”

“Great.” Ignore.

Boomer shrugged. “Wes and Kim, Mike, Robin, Bubbles, Harry, the Floyjoydson Twins.”

Brick grunted noncommittally.

Boomer adjusted his jacket and pretended not to watch Brick like a hawk. “Blossom too.”

Pause.

Brick’s gaze flickered over the top of his book to catch Boomer’s eye. “This isn’t some themed shit like that last one, is it?”

“Nope. Just friends, drinking games, the usual. But if your migraine’s still bugging you, I’d get you wanting to go to bed early—”

“I’ll go for an hour.” Brick closed his book and got up off the sofa.

“Cool. Cool cool cool…” It took every ounce of self control Boomer had in him not to smile at his brother’s expense.

Brick when to change his shirt, and Boomer pulled out his phone and texted Bubbles.

[Boomer: I think you’re right. He’s finally seen the light.]

[Bubbles: I told you! Did you see the way he was staring at her??? Shook.]

Boomer laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Brick asked as he reemerged in a button down shirt. Had he brushed his hair? Christ, he’d actually brushed his hair.

Shooketh.

Boomer grinned. “Nothing, man. Just looking forward to a fun night.”

“Whatever.”

They headed out, and Boomer trailed his brother’s red streak.

Something told him it would be a very fun night.

[tinkiisms]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme

fill out & repost ♥  This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK (it depends bc generally ppl will definitely sexualize her--esp the 1953 version--but in the DF fanbase itself I feel like mostly ppl fawn over other characters rather than Tink herself)

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK

Are they underrated? YES / NO

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL

How strictly do you follow canon?

I try to keep pretty true to canon when it comes to Tinker Bell’s characterization, though I’m also a big fan of AUs and exploring lots of different plots that might be unlikely for the original character, so I guess I don’t “strictly” follow canon.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.

Tink is a 5 inch tall fairy who can use pixie dust to make magic happen--including flight! If people don’t believe in her, she’ll die. She’s extremely emotionally volatile, but she’s a very loyal girl so if she likes someone she’ll absolutely sacrifice herself for their sake. (But if she doesn’t, she’ll be the one organizing their death.) Her name is Tinker Bell because she works with metal, repairing pots and pans, but also she just invents a bunch o’ crap like a tiny MacGyver. If there is ever a rule in her way, she will go out of her way to break it like stepping on dead leaves on the sidewalk.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).

She’s a basic bitch? IDC how 2D the fanbase thinks she is based on which one of the canon portrayals they’ve seen of her. With all the adaptations I’ve consumed and can combine inspiration from to form a fully fleshed out character, I like my interpretation.

What inspired you to rp your muse?

Well...TBH I started out in this fanbase with an indie blog for Prilla, and then Terence. I first started playing Tink as just one of the possible takers of questions (among the rest of all fairies in the kingdom) on an ask blog for the Disney Fairies, 6 years ago.

I think I might have started writing her there just enough, or got deep enough in my reading/viewing Peter Pan media at some point, to take some interest in having a separate blog just for role-playing her, which I made. The original one I actually deleted after a couple months as far as I remember, but then I ended up remaking and have been on this same account for the past 5 years!

So, for the fact that this is my longest-lasting role-play (and writing in general) experience I’ve had, the strength of my inspiration for this one character and every little detail about her life and every possibility for her in alternate universes and in various situations with random characters...she was really the one who snuck up on me!

She wasn’t my favorite character BEFORE I started writing her, but she grew and grew in my heart until she’s all I think about.

What keeps your inspiration going?

I love Tinker Bell. Even if I become less active when life flares up for periods of time, then I’ll just remember that I love Tinker Bell and I want to come back and write about her. If I loved her any less she’d end up like the rest of my abandoned blogs/characters I’ve once played. But she sticks!

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO (I feel like people aren’t really interested unless it’s something that comes up in a thread)

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO (Again, I feel like who cares unless I’m writing for their thread specifically?)

Do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO 

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO (I would like to be better than I am)

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?

I don’t think I’ve ever really received criticism about my portrayal, and I don’t mean that like “everybody thinks I’m perfect” but just that I’ve never reblogged a meme asking for anonymous crit, and nobody has ever just given me criticism unprompted either, so I don’t know how well I’d receive it!

I can say how I’d probably feel. Honestly, depending on the criticism, I would try to to understand it from an objective point of view and see whether it’s something I want to change/adapt, but if it’s something I disagree with (because we’re talking about portrayal which I take to mean “my personal interpretation of Tinker Bell’s characterization” which is the one thing I’m content with here) I would point out why I feel like my portrayal is justifiable.

If it’s criticism on my actual writing, I’ll definitely be open to learning and developing more--it’s just portrayal of the muse is so personal and subjective anyway that if someone really has a problem with my Tink....I don’t really care? Just find a different one, then. My Tink is going to be my Tink regardless of whether others appreciate my vision of her or not.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

Sure! I almost never get character-building asks (even when I reblog memes for them) but I definitely welcome them and would love to have more!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?

Might as well. We can definitely discuss WHY we each have a different interpretation, but in the end I’m going to have my own headcanons and they can have theirs. If I change my mind, then I have a new perspective, but if not then nothing is lost either!

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

I’m not gonna take it personally. If they prefer a different interpretation, it’s totally fine to not follow mine and look for another one! I’m just here to have fun with a few people I really like writing with, not to be the “best” or most popular version of my character out there.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

Roll my eyes and move on. I understand why some people don’t like the character, so it’s not like I’m gonna waste any effort defending her from hate--it’s their prerogative. I’ll just ignore it and love her extra.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

Yeah, if there’s anything I’m consistently doing wrong, please feel free to point it out! Some things are just typos and don’t get caught before being posted, but if there’s something you’ve noticed me doing multiple times so it’s obviously an error of my understanding rather than a mistype, I would love to be able to fix it and become a better writer.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?

More or less! I don’t bug anybody about replies, you can definitely take your time or drop things with me. I’m pretty chill to talk to OOC as well, if I do say so myself. I’m actually probably the one ppl need to be “easy going” with because I never reply to threads or texts soon enough, I’m horrible at keeping conversations going...But that’s what people have to put up with if they like writing with me, the saints <3

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

➸  Tagger: @wendyfulmother​

➸ Tagging: anybody who wants to, you’re tagged. (if you don’t want to, you are not tagged)

[kerfufflewatch]

it dissappearing sucks majorly but i'm glad you didn't intentionally delete it bc i was super excited to read it when i had the mental wherewithal (still am =D)

Yeah, I really don’t know what happened there! I don’t recall deleting it even accidentally, so I’m not . . . sure what happened. :V

But anyway.

Here’s me reposting that unfinished piece of my vampire Hanzo/hunter McCree fic, because Tumblr ate it, I guess!

--

A shiver ripples up McCree’s spine as cool lips meet the warm, delicate skin on the inside of his wrist. He tenses, arresting the shiver before it can shudder through his shoulders and give him away. Hanzo, if he notices at all, does not react.

Next is the gentle scrape of teeth, a warning and a question in one. McCree exhales, flexes his fist, and releases it again. There is a sting as pointed fangs sink into his skin, then nothing at all as the natural anesthetic kicks in and dulls the pain. Hanzo laps his tongue over the bite as if in apology before he wraps his lips over the wound. McCree turns his head away, feeling rude for staring, and tries to focus on keeping his breathing even.

There’s no point to it. He’s certain the vampire noticed his racing pulse, if he doesn’t outright hear the way McCree’s heart pounds. Even if McCree could somehow separate himself from the events taking place, there’s no ignoring Hanzo so close to him.

He’s allowed Hanzo to do this some half-dozen times in the last couple of months, less than half the time that they have actually known each other. He hadn’t, at first--not that Hanzo had asked, insistent that blood from the local wildlife would suffice. But McCree’s come to trust Hanzo well enough, knows he won’t up and try to drain him dry. A few mouthfuls of blood every so often is a small enough price to pay for a steadfast companion and not having share what little fresh meat he can catch on a long hunt.

But there’s no elegant way to do this without being completely in each other’s space. Hanzo shifts slightly, the motion putting the top of his head dangerously near McCree’s mouth, and McCree holds his breath. Even just allowing Hanzo to feed off his wrist means the vampire’s nearly in his lap, their knees bumping and Hanzo’s body tantalizing close. It’s remarkably intimate, and the closest McCree’s let anybody in the last few years that wasn’t actively trying to kill him. Half a dozen encounters like this hasn’t made this seem any more mundane.

McCree casts a glance about his surroundings, trying to focus on anything else besides Hanzo’s teeth in his wrist and the low burn of arousal in his gut. He peers up through the canopy of trees overhead, observing the clear blue sky through the grasping branches and fluttering leaves. The forest here is thin here at its edges, giving way to grassy plain perhaps half a mile further down the path, but still thick enough to provide some cover from prying eyes. Unlikely to see anyone else in this part of the country, so far from the next town, but one could never be too careful.

Hanzo lifts his head after a few moments, and McCree shivers as his skin prickles with the chilly morning air. Hanzo covers the wound with a folded cloth and turns his face away, but not before McCree catches sight of the crimson still staining his lips. Hanzo licks it away, chases a stray bead of blood under his lip with his thumb and sucks it off his skin before he finally looks at McCree. Clean and poised, as always. God forbid anyone look at him and think he were an uncivilized bloodsucker.

“Thank you,” he says. His dark eyes are slightly hooded, relaxed with satiation. McCree pretends to be occupied by his wound, though it is already sealing over. “That should sustain me through the next week, at the least.”

“‘Course.”

Hanzo gets to his feet, but hesitates, and McCree can feel his gaze on him. “Something wrong?” he dares to ask.

“No,” Hanzo says airily. He bends down for his pack and his gear, casually slinging them over his shoulder. “I am merely amazed that you continue to react the way that you do every time I drink from you.”

McCree levels an unimpressed look at him, but Hanzo’s teasing smile is unwavering. “Not like I can help it,” he mutters, dusting himself off as he stands.

“And that is what amazes me. Every human I have fed from has reacted similarly. I can’t imagine what about the process is so . . . exciting.” The smirk widens. “Especially coming from such a mighty hunter.”

McCree snorts. “Really? You can’t imagine someone being affected by you gettin’ up in their space and puttin’ your mouth all over them? You’re telling me that doesn’t affect you at all?”

“Of course not. It is just eating a meal. Are you telling me you get aroused any time you eat a biscuit?”

“Depends on the biscuit. Average one, maybe not, but if it were a handsome one that let me crawl in its lap every couple of weeks as part of the process of eating it--”

Hanzo’s nose wrinkles. “The metaphor does not work nearly so well.”

“Well, that’s because people aren’t biscuits. And I’m far more handsome than a fuckin’ biscuit, anyway.”

“Can we stop discussing biscuits?”

“You brought it up.” McCree throws his pack over his shoulder, double-checks that his pistol is still right where it should be at his hip. “C’mon. If you’re done makin’ fun of me for reacting the way any sane person does, we got another ten miles to go before we hit town.” He gestures out to the empty road, winding its way out of the small copse of trees and into an open plain. Hanzo frowns at him, his amusement evidently gone, and he gives a stiff nod before walking away.

They only walk for a moment or two before Hanzo makes an irritated noise, drawing McCree’s attention back. “It is not that I am unaware,” Hanzo says sourly. “Of course I realize that the act can be . . . intimate. But that is simply not the purpose, and--”

McCree holds up a hand. “Hanzo, it’s not that big a deal,” he says wearily. “I’m just givin’ you shit, the same way you do to me. Believe it or not, I do get it.”

Hanzo seems unsatisfied by the response, but his frown lessens as a few seconds pass. “There are times,” he says slowly, “where we might regard drinking in a similar context. But it is not common, and certainly not with everyone.”

“I figure not.”

“Most of the time, it is just something that is done. Whether we drink from animals or humans.”

“You really don’t gotta explain yourself to me,” McCree says, holding up both hands placatingly now. “Promise. I’m just tryin’ to get you to realize I’m not trying to be weird.”

Hanzo’s tense shoulders finally relax. He flashes McCree a brief smile. “Fair enough,” he says. “I do appreciate that you allow me this.”

McCree’s heart flutters a little, a strange but no longer unfamiliar feeling. “Of course,” he says. “Much better than eatin’ rabbits all the time, I bet.”

“And much easier.” Hanzo’s smile turns up with another smirk. “It is much more convenient traveling with a willing biscuit.”

McCree takes off his hat and swats Hanzo with it, and Hanzo bursts into laughter, bright and loud, as he fends off the halfhearted attack.  McCree’s chest feels warm and full for reasons that no longer have anything to do with Hanzo’s closeness or touch, and he can feel himself grinning like a fool. He shoves his hat back on his head and turns again to their path before he can be caught out.

So the whole thing might be more of a problem for him than on average. But Hanzo doesn’t have to know that.

[franeridart]

*SOBS* IM JUST SO GLAD YOURE BACK

Aw thank you !!!!! It’s really just thanks to the past couple of days of cooler weather tho, ngl hahaha the earth has been indulgent to me, this past week!

Anon said:I really liked that wgole bakushima gem thing! What would bakugou do if kirishima somehow got corrupted and couldnt reverse it? (Without the other diamonds)

Thank you for liking it!!!! And I guess he’d just go ask the other diamonds? Well, he would never let it get to that, but if it were the only option it’s not like he’d leave Kiri like that!

Anon said:Quick, someone put a flashlight on diamond!Kiri

He’d be shinier than Aoyama and Hagakure using her special move put together !!!!!!! v pretty~

Anon said:your kiribaku gem AU inspired me so much that i’m finally watching steven universe just so i can understand it better because what i did understand was that i loved it

OH MAN I hope you’ll enjoy it!!!! It’s a bit silly and all over the place through the first season, but try to give it time !!

Anon said:Hi! I went and checked out your fan art for Kuroko no Basket and I absolutely adore AoKaga! Your AoKaga works make me so happy! I love them all!

Ohhhhh man thank you so much !!!!!!!!!! it’s super old stuff tho how did you even find it hhhhh haha

Anon said:Hello hello! here w bad news a instagram page posted your art and i know you dont like repost so im informing you. The page is kags.fujoshi and it was posted july 23

Yeh I know, I’ve been trying to report it and the other one I’ve been being told about but instagram won’t let me submit the thing so I guess this is how things are and I’ll just die mad about it since instagram likes to make things as hard and impossible to me as it can

Anon said:Bless your art

Thank you ;;;;;

Anon said:Omg literally your kiribaku Steven universe crossover is so fucking perfect thank you for blessing us with it; I’d love to see more if you have anything or feel like ever doing more about it but I don’t want to pressure you or anything, do what you want to do and what makes you happy :) Take care!

Ahhhhhh thank you so much!!!!! I’m super glad you liked it this much!!!!!!!

Anon said:✨Gentle reminder to take care of yourself today ✨

You too, anon!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Everytime I see you upload new art I end up looking through and loving your entire BNHA Art tag. It’s so wonderful

gAH thank you so SO much!!!!!!!!!! don’t waste so much time on my blog, tho hahaha

Anon said:heya! I was just wondering if u had any short bakukiri one-shot fic recommendations. i prefer to read short things bc i have some learning difficulties and i was hoping u might know some good simple reads. Thanks! (

Aw man sorry but I really don’t have the time to make a rec list rn ;; if you’re fine with it this is the tag on AO3 filtered so that it shows only complete content with a max word count of 5000 starting from the one with most kudos going down, the first ones showing are all super good fics - in case you’re not okay with explicit content you can filter that too (if youre not okay with mature either just check that out as well) and to go further this is the tag excluding the fics tagged as tddk  cause that’s not what you’re looking for and the tddk and krbk fandom sure like to put each other in the listed relationships even if the fic isn’t about them (it excludes some krbk fics too but what can we do about that)

Anon said:ASDFGHKRNOFNE your last doodle killed me!!!! soft todoroki

AHHHHH I’m super glad you liked them !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ;;;

Anon said:I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your art, you beautiful gift you

Thank you smmmmm ;;;

Anon said:I am taking the SU story down for now. Please, let me know if I have your permission to post it, or if you don’t want me to. // And just to clarify - I’m not deleting the story out of spite or anything. I wrote it as a “get-well-soon” gift, but since you make it very clear you want to know how your art is used and that you must give your approval, I began to fear it would become a source of annoyance to you rather than something nice. I can put it back up if you want me to.

I don’t mind you writing the story or posting it, so if you wanna upload it again go for it! For future reference tho, if you’re in a rush to get an answer out of me (referring to the message where you asked if it was okay) your best bet is to go off-anon since those I always answer privately and as soon as I can. It can take me up to over a week to answer anon asks here, which I’d guess is sort of obvious? so seriously next time you’re in a rush to get an answer it’s better if you don’t go through the anon option!!

Anon said:HI I LOVE YOUR ART IT’S GORGEOUS AHHHHHHH

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

Anon said:How long does it take t draw one artwork for you?

Some things ten minutes, some things three days of work, it really depends on what I’m drawing? If it’s bw or colored, if it has a bg, if it’s a bust or a full body, if it’s one person or five, one drawing or a full comic, how used I am to drawing the character vs how new it is, how easy the clothes are and how many details there are on them - if you sent me an example I could specifically tell you how long it took me!

Anon said:is bakugo ticklish? what do u think?

Bakugou is ticklish but the immediate aftermath of tickling Bakugou is to be blasted into kingdom come so maybe better not to tickle him unless you’re Kiri and can protect yourself

Anon said:Bakukirikami is some good stuff my dude

It sure as heck is! Lately my old stuff for them is getting a bunch of new notes, I’m assuming people are getting into it thanks to the anime haha the magic of the license exam my doods

Anon said:hey I hope I don’t sound creepy but, I just want to say that your art really makes me happy and that you’re one of my favorite artist out there. So even if somtimes you feel like your art sucks I want you to know that I think it’s beautiful! Hope you’re doing well!

You don’t sound creepy at all!!!!! thank you SO MUCH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:i live for ur kamisero art just saying

I haven’t drawn much of that, have I? I’m glad you like it tho!!!! Thank you!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Mako and Tai ♥️♥️

!!!

Anon said:This isn’t an ask, just that I love your art style and it reminds me of a beautiful and cute point and click adventure, “Harvey’s new eyes ” and “Ednas break out” Its very cute and pretty just like your art style and I love both ^^

Oh man thank you!!!

Anon said:Q U O R K

I honestly can’t even remember if this is just a random ask or if it was referring to something specific, ngl (if it’s the second, sorry about my memory being like this orz)

Anon said:Gah I keep missing preorders! I’ve only ever really wanted 2, and each time, don’t have any money, til after they’re done 😢 oh well, I guess. Hope you’re doing well!

If you’re referring to the takemyhand zine, preorders are still going tho!!! and thank you!!!!

[pllsetskyonice]

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2,900 words

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

In which Yuri gets drunk and Tweets some things he probably shouldn't have.

AO3 link

So @94mercy made this post that headcanoned that Yuri gets drunk one night and talks about the size of Otabek’s dick on social media, and I immediately knew I had to write it. Otherwise known as me just wanting to join in with all the hung!Otabek content that’s been coming out of this fandom in recent weeks. 

(Also tagging @daddybek because that’s where this all started back in February)

They’ve been dating for a few months when it happens.

Yuri goes round to Mila’s for a few drinks after practice one day, and they steadily make their way through a bottle of vodka, laughing and talking about their respective partners. The music is loud and Yuri feels all loose and giggly as he reaches for his phone, taking selfies and documenting their escapades on Snapchat. He’s never been this drunk before, so drunk he’s not even sure what order his memories from the last few hours go in, so drunk that he can barely stand, so drunk that the room is spinning.

He sits down and opens Twitter, starting to type. He doesn’t even think about what he’s Tweeting, just starts a thread and keeps on going until he gets it all off his chest. Mila is grabbing at his hands and pulling him up so they can dance together again, and Yuri’s phone lies on the couch, forgotten.

So he doesn’t see what he’s done until morning.

-

It’s the sound of his phone vibrating loudly on the bedside table that wakes him up. He’s in Mila’s spare bedroom, a small sized room with what feels like the most uncomfortable bed he’s ever slept on, but it evidently didn’t bother him at whatever time he collapsed onto last night. At least he made it into bed, he supposes. That’s an achievement, even if he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

He grabs at his phone, squinting at the screen. It reads 6 AM, and is somehow fully charged, even though he has doesn’t remember plugging it in last night. It’s far too early. Yuri wants nothing more at this particular moment in time than to roll over and go back to sleep to avoid dealing with this hangover from hell, but it’s Otabek that’s calling him, so he supposes that he’d better answer.

“Hello?” he says, his voice sounding all croaky as he unplugs his phone and rolls back onto his back. There’s light streaming in through a gap in the curtains, and Yuri would get up and close them properly, but they’re too far away to deal with right now. Instead, he opts for the easier option: pulling his blankets over his head.

“Yuri, what the fuck?” Otabek asks on the other end of the line. Even in this still half drunk, hungover state, Yuri can tell that this is Not Good. “What were you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?” Yuri replies. He wonders if it’s about his and Mila’s Snapchat stories, but from what he can remember there’s nothing too outrageous on them, just some really bad singing in questionable English to pop songs neither of them like.

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

Yuri fumbles with his phone, opening Twitter with his phone call with Otabek still active in the background. He doesn’t even need to go onto his profile to see it, it’s all over his timeline. “Oh, shit,” he swears as he scrolls through the Tweets. “I don’t even remember posting any of this. I was so drunk, Beka. So drunk. I’m sorry.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Alright buckle in its gonna be a bumpy ride let me tell you a thing or two about the size of @otabekaltin’s dick

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I hope you’re ready bc I sure as hell wasn’t the first time I saw it – tho in fairness he did warn me about it beforehand

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

But I’m gonna be honest here and say I had to take a moment when we did somethinh sexual for the first time bc girl, I couldn’t’ cope

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

Shall we talk about the time he fucked me for the first time?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

YES WHAT A WONDERUFL IDEA KETS CARRY ON TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MY BOYF’S DICK FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTS

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

After all of the prep (srsly ive never seen so much lube lmao) he finally entered me (is that even the right word idk I’m so drunk rn)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I’ve never felt so full in my whole life it was SO GOOD 10/10 WOULD RECOMMEND (although hands off he’s mine)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

honestly tho I swear the sex gets better every time? He REALLY know what he’s doing with that thing let me tell you

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I did once ask if he needed a licence for it, he didn’t take it well lmao. Anyway, tl;dr: @otabekaltin’s dick is a godsend and

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5h ago

I am forever grateful that I’ve got to experience such a masterpiece so many different times in so many different positions

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin

Holy mother of god is this true? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS TRUE

Yuri Angels @yuriangels10 · 5h ago

Replying to @yuriplisetsky, @otabekaltin, @c_giacometti

AHAHAHA WE’VE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR AGES WE CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING

-

“Yeah, I figured, from the numerous spelling mistakes and yours and Mila’s Snapchat stories from last night,” Otabek says, sighing. “But that doesn’t make this okay, Yuri.”

“I know,” Yuri says miserably as he continues to scroll through the shit storm that’s taken over his Twitter. “Do you want me to delete the tweets?”

“I’m not sure what good that’ll do at this stage,” Otabek says. “They’ve already been screenshotted and reposted too Tumblr and Instagram and Facebook so many times that deleting the original tweets doesn’t mean that people will stop talking about it.”

“True,” Yuri agrees. He hasn’t checked Tumblr yet but he already feels like the Yuri Plisetsky tag will be trending on there, full of screenshots taken from Twitter and detailed posts discussing it all. Instagram will be full of people screaming in the comments, and Facebook will have people criticising his decision to share this all on the internet for everyone to see. No doubt someone has already put together a compilation video on YouTube of closeups of Otabek’s crotch with Yuri’s tweets edited onto it. “I can’t apologise enough for all of this. I’m so sorry.”

-

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Jenna @xxknifeshoesxx · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky

I can’t believe that this is confirmed, what the hell

skate away @quadloop · 4h ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @xxknifeshoesxx

Is it just me that rlly wants to know just how big Otabek is now?

russian fairy @plsetsky · 4h ago

Nah (I mean it might be bordering the slightly creepy territory but still, SOMEONE FETCH THE GUY A TAPE MEASURE)

-

“I know,” Otabek says. “I’m not happy that this has happened, but it has, so we’ll deal with it – oh no, Victor’s just messaged in the group chat.”

-

Victor: EXPLAIN YOURSELVES

Victor: [multiple screenshots of Twitter threads]

Yuri: …

Yuri: why the hell should we have to explain ourselves to you two??!

Victor: BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE EVERYONE IN THE SKATING WORLD IS TALKING ABOUT THE SIZE OF OTABEK’S DICK AND HOW MUCH YOU LOVE IT AND WHY DID YOU POST THIS ALL ONTO TWITTER?

Yuri: jesus

Yuri: stop yelling

Yuri: I was drunk and said some things on twitter, it’s not a big deal

Victor: It very clearly is!

Victor: Yakov is going to have your head off over this, I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet

Victor: If you thought he was mad at you after Welcome To The Madness, then you’ve really got another thing coming

Yuri: I can handle yakov thank you

Otabek: I’d make a joke about how if you can handle my dick you can handle anything but somehow I don’t think that would be appreciated

Yuri: oh my god beka

Victor: You’re right, it wouldn’t be appreciated

Yuuri: Maybe

Yuuri: Maybe it doesn’t matter because they’re both consenting adults and what goes on behind closed door isn’t anyone’s business but theirs?

Victor: Yuuri I love you but that’s not the point

Victor: They’re going to get people going on about this for months, in interviews, in articles, online… it’ll come back to haunt you in five years’ time at a party when someone’s flicking through their camera roll and finds the tweets and is like, “oh wow who remembers when?”

Yuri: alright I get it my tweets are a ghost that’ll come back to haunt me

Yuri: can we all please calm down I really don’t want to deal with this rn

Victor: Is that because you’re hungover? Well you should’ve thought about that before you got drunk and posted a bunch of stupid tweets to twitter!

Yuri: *true, not stupid

Yuri: and stfu victor

Yuri: no one cares what you have to say

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

I’M YELLING pic.twitter.com/t35v5f

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 3h ago

Someone should get yuri drunk more often this is GOLD

Mila Babicheva @mila_b · 20m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I honestly don’t know if I should be apologising or not

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 20m ago

Noooo! Definitely not lmao I WANT TO KNOW ALL THE SECRETS

-

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this banana bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/235g5y

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this cucumber bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43qg5

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this aubergine bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/4gaf35

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this leek bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/98rga3

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this can of dry shampoo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/257g23

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 9m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this chair leg bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/5gsgj1

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this table leg bigger than otabek’s dic? pls respond pic.twitter.com/43tg83

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this branch bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/6grg24

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 8m ago

@yuriplisetsky is this tree bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/7gr32t

Yurabek For Life @yurabek4life · 6m ago

Replying to @slicetheice

@yuriplisetsky is this dildo bigger than otabek’s dick? pls respond pic.twitter.com/24gw46

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

u ruined it

registered yuri angel no 4525 @slicetheice · 6m ago

gtfo my thread

-

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Mila enters, a glass of water in one hand and her phone in the other. Her hair is messy and she obviously didn’t get around to taking off her makeup last night, as her eyeliner and mascara is smudged around her eyes and what’s left of her foundation is decidedly patchy.

“Hey,” she says quietly, walking forward and placing the glass on the bedside table. “Thought you could probably do with a glass of water.”

“Thanks,” Yuri mumbles, reaching for the glass and taking a few small sips. Though his phone call with Otabek has now ended, they’re continuing to text as they both keep an eye on what’s happening on social media. Victor keeps texting him too, and Yakov keeps calling him, but Yuri is ignoring those. He doesn’t need a lecture right now.

Mila shuffles on her feet, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking down at the carpet rather than at Yuri. “I never should’ve got you that drunk last night.”

“You do realise I don’t really give a shit, right?” Yuri replies. Mila’s head snaps up and she stares at him, brow furrowed.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“I don’t care, Mila,” Yuri says. “Maybe in a perfect world I wouldn’t have posted those tweets and sent the figure skating fandom into a meltdown, and maybe people at Google questioning wouldn’t be wondering why there’s been a sudden increase in people Googling what the average penis size in Kazakhstan is, but it’s not the end of the world. Otabek wasn’t best pleased at first but I think he’s getting over it now. If anything, it’s just given everyone another reason to be jealous of the fact that I’m dating him.”

Mila scoffs, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re something else, Plisetsky,” she says. “Are you going to tell me, then?”

“Tell you what?” Yuri asks, feigning ignorance as he continues to scroll through Twitter. He’s trending, but he’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to feel about that given the circumstances.

“How big he is, of course!”

“Fuck no. Get out my room.”

“Technically speaking –”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

-

17 missed calls from Yakov

Yakov: What on earth is going on

Yakov: I hope you have a reasonable explanation for all of this

Yakov: I am concerned about that boy’s influence on you

Yakov: Please answer your phone calls

Yakov: Answer the phone when I call you!

Yakov: ANSWER THE PHONE!!

-

Otabek Altin retweeted

russian fairy @plsetsky · 5h ago

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 1m ago

Replying to @plsetsky

Hell yes he is. ;) #yurisizequeen

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 30s ago

Replying to @plsetsky, @otabekaltin

#yurisizequeen CONFIRMED

-

Worldwide Trends · Change

#yurisizequeen

@yuriplisetsky and @otabekaltin are Tweeting about this

General Election

UK General Election ends in hung parliament

The King and The Skater III

@phichit_chu is Tweeting about this

#mysearchhistory

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve Googled?

Kazakhstan’s Hero

Otabek Altin is now being celebrated for entirely different reasons than the ones you’re thinking of

#thebigmeat

1,257 Tweets

-

Yuri Plisetsky

@yuriplisetsky

Gold medallist Russian figure skater. Otabek Altin’s boyfriend. Size queen.

St Petersburg

Joined March 2014

Born March 1

-

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 10m ago

@yuriplisetsky YOU UPDATED YOUR BIO AND I’M YELLING

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Replying to @phichit_chu

I was just showing who I am

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 8m ago

This whole thing is making my day #yurisizequeen @otabekaltin so how well does he take it?

Otabek Altin @otabekaltin · 8m ago

Now that would be telling ;)

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 7m ago

Is that code for “I’ve never had anyone take it so well before”?

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 5m ago

Why must I be exposed in this way

Phichit Chulanont @phichit_chu · 4m ago

You exposed yourself

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 2m ago

…true

-

Yuri: I’m never drinking with you again.

Mila: Yeah, whatever you say

Mila: I will get you drunk again and get you to spill your secrets all over Twitter

Yuri: NEVER

Yuri: NOT HAPPENING

Mila: Sure, keep telling yourself that

Mila: So, you want to have a few drinks next Friday?

Yuri: …

Yuri: Fine. I’m in.

-

Yuri’s been back at his apartment for a few hours, doing nothing more than curling up on the couch and watching Netflix and contemplating if he can stomach food yet when the doorbell rings. He stares at the door for a few moments, confused, because he no one’s told him they’re coming around. Maybe he left something at Mila’s and she’s decided to drop it off when running errands or something. Sighing, he pauses Netflix, drags himself off the couch and shuffles to the door, his blanket wrapped round his shoulders like a cape.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Yuri demands when he opens the door and sees Otabek of all people standing there. “You decided to just hop on the next plane to St Petersburg or something?”

“Um, yeah,” Otabek mumbles, brushing a hand through his hair as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. With his other hand, he holds up a bag from the local convenience store. “I also got food. Wanted to make sure you were actually going to eat something today.”

Through the thin white plastic of the bag, Yuri spots a familiar label. “You got me Pringles.” They’re one of his favourite foods that he’s not really supposed to eat when he’s training, but they’re also what he really wants right now.

Otabek grins. “I did.”

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Yuri asks, making a grab for the bag. Looking like a kid at Christmas, he takes the lid off the Pringles and tears at the paper/foil one, before taking several crisps out of the tube and putting them all into his mouth at once.

“Well, you’ve told the world about how much you love my dick, but apart from that, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Yuri says through a mouthful of crisps, rolling his eyes. “Come on, get in here.”

-

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 13m ago

Look who flew all the way from Almaty just to be here! ♥♥ pic.twitter.com/36uhghefh5

Otabek Altin @otabekatlin · 12m ago

Replying to Yuri Plisetsky

It’s good to be back. ♥♥

Christophe Giacometti @c_giacometti · 10m ago

I bet it is ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yuri Plisetsky @yuriplisetsky · 10m ago

Oh yes ;)

[rememberstilinski]

thinking of you || isaac lahey part two

word count: 1629

warnings: none

prompt: based on this song part two of this imagine

author’s note: repost bc my original blog was deleted

One night after the pack and I had a movie night at my house, I was getting ready for bed. I was already done with everything and ready to crawl into my warm bed that still somehow managed to smell like Isaac after all this time. There was a knock at my door and I figured it was Stiles who had left his phone here… again. I opened the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. “Listen Stiles, if you left your goddamn phone here again, I’m gonna kick your ass.” I looked up to be met with a tall figure with beautiful blue eyes and I took a sharp intake of breath.

Isaac.

When our eyes met, he softly smiled. His beautiful white smile stopping my heart. “I heard you’ve been thinking of me.”

He was here. Isaac Lahey was at my front door. I stood frozen in the doorway, not knowing what to do or say. What do you say to someone who you haven’t had any contact with in a year? Our eyes stayed locked on each other, not once faltering. I didn’t think I would ever be looking into those eyes again.

Isaac cleared his throat, “Um, are you gonna let me in?” I opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in. He stepped in, his boots making a noise on the hardwood floors. Once he was inside, I sighed deeply. Closing the door softly, I turned to him. He was looking at me and I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my evening attire. I was wearing silky pajama shorts and a very thin white spaghetti strap tank top. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him.

“You look good.”

“What are you doing here?” We cut each other off. I licked my lips nervously.

“You first.” Isaac said politely.

“Isaac, why are you here?” I asked the boy in front of me.

“Lydia called me. So did Scott. They said you were missed me.” Isaac nodded, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I even got a call from Malia Tate. She’s… interesting. She told me that I was a jerk and needed to fix what I did wrong.” He smiled, cocking his eyebrow.

I let out a breathy laugh. Of course Malia would be so blunt about something. Gotta love that girl. “Yeah, that’s Malia for ya.” I told him. “You didn’t have to come all the way to Beacon Hills, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want me here?” He asked. I saw his expression falter.

“It’s not that. It’s just you don’t care, so I’m confused as to why you’re here.” I uttered.

“Do you really think that?” His voice broke as he said his words.

“Yeah. I mean you left. I tried getting in contact with you and you never answered. I felt like I was talking to a ghost.”

“I didn’t stop caring about you. I couldn’t ever do that.” He walked closer to me, but I took a step back. My back pressed against the wall. I looked down at my painted toe nails.

“It sure felt like it! You left, Isaac. You left when the whole pack needed you. You left when I needed you.” I felt a warm, salty tear fall from my eye as I spoke. “I lost someone that was important to me and you left when I needed you the most. Do you know what that feels like?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry! If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have left!” I shouted at him. “I loved you, Isaac.”

“Loved?” He asked, emphasizing I used the past term of a word that meant so much to the both of us.

I closed my eyes and let my head roll back to rest on the wall. After I gave myself a couple moments to calm down, I opened my eyes, looking back to his. I automatically saw how glossy they were. I saw a tear fall from his right eye and down his cheek. “After you left, I was empty. I was broken in every way. My best friend died and the love of my life left me. I didn’t see anything getting better after that. I pushed away everyone. Scott, Stiles. I even pushed away Lydia and Kira. I barely saw them for weeks. I couldn’t be in the same room as Scott and Stiles without wanting to fall apart.”

Isaac let out a shaky sigh, but I continued talking. “I eventually realized that pushing away the most important people in my life wasn’t the best solution. Being alone is never good for anyone. So I went back to the pack. I met Liam and Malia. They became my best friends. Then senior year rolled around and I met Theo.” I saw Isaac tense and I see the anger and jealousy on his face, but I didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched and his large hands clenched at his sides. “Theo and I got together. He was my boyfriend, but there was a problem.”

“You didn’t love him.” Isaac whispered. I nodded.

“No. I didn’t. You, for some reason were always in the back of my mind. You never really left if I’m being honest. Every time I saw him waiting for me outside the classroom, I wished it was you. Every time he wrapped his arms around me I wished it was your arms bringing me comfort and warmth. Every time he kissed me I didn’t feel like my heart was going to take off down the street like I did with you. Every night we spent together, I wanted to be you. I wanted to be intertwined with you. I wanted you to be the one kissing my collarbone and holding me tight. I wanted yours to be the eyes I looked into, not his. But it wasn’t. He was second best. I felt like after you, second best was all I would ever know again.”

I finished my speech and Isaac walked closer to me. He put his large hand on my cheek, thumb wiping the tears that had fallen from my eyes. Our eyes met once again and I could see every emotion in the cerulean color I adored. I saw the love, the happiness, but I also saw the hurt and the sadness. “You’re not still with Theo, are you?” Isaac questioned, his tone soft and small.

I shook my head. “I could never be with him when I’m still completely in love with you.”

That was all Isaac needed to smash his lips on mine. His right arm moved to my waist, holding tight while his left hand stayed on my cheek. I closed my eyes as the warmth of his lips filled my body. My hands moved so they were resting where his heart is, but the size of my hands was small compared to his big frame. Isaac licked my bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. I granted and his tongue explored passionately.

The sweet taste I loved so much brought back so many memories. The memory of our first kiss, the memory of the kiss that lead to our first time, and our last kiss. I felt his heart speed up underneath my palm and I wondered if the kiss took his mind to the memories that were filling my head. I pulled away for air, our foreheads resting against each other, noses nuzzled together. “Take me back.” Isaac whispered.

“Only if you promise to stay. Forever this time.” I said, my tone serious yet scared he was gonna leave me again. His grip on my body tightened, subconsciously showing me that he didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

“I wouldn’t leave you again. Never in a million years.” I placed a peck on his mouth. And then another. Isaac wrapped both of his arms around me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He still smelled of the cologne he wore before.

He picked me up bridal style carrying me up the staircase and into my bedroom. Isaac gently placed me on the mattress. He kicked off his shoes and lied down next to me. I rolled into his side and placed my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat. Each beat soft and calming. His hands went to my hair, playing with the strands like he always did before. The two actions were beginning to slowly put me to sleep.

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes were closed, but he was still awake. I shifted and the movement caused him to open his eyes. “What are you doing?” The concern laced in his question.

I didn’t answer but pressed my lips to his. His lips molded with mine, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece. He was the piece to everything in my life. I would always need him. And I know he felt the same. Isaac was staying; I couldn’t get over that. I’m not the type of person to rely on a guy to make me happy, but when you feel what I feel with Isaac, that’s not something you’ll ever get over. They become a part of you. They become your heart, your smile, your laughter. That’s what Isaac is to me. He’s the best part of me.

Isaac pulled away and whispered, “I love you so much, Y/N. I want to be with you forever.”

“I love you too, Isaac. More than you know.” We both settled back into our original positions. Sleep taking over the both of our bodies as I listened to his heartbeat and he listened to mine.