#she was showing off her nails before this selfie and talking about how it reminded her of Kim’s entrance look

[sexynetra]

PSA: if you aren’t a Marcia stan I don’t trust you fundamentally as a person :) like you don’t understand, that’s my babygirl for real

[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.

[pianorexic000]

Sweetspo Saturday

Hi y’all, so today is sweetspo Saturday.......

it speaks for itself. By the way, none of these are mine. I take no credit I have 0 creativity.

I dream of collarbones and thigh gaps, of hips jutting out and ribs just visible, casting shadows on porcelain flesh. I dream of crop tops and denim shorts, of thigh highs and sugar highs. And when I lay in bed at night, counting the calories of the day before my mind can’t help but wander, and I press into my doughy stomach, feel the hips hiding underneath, and remind myself how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go.

Please listen, I know, I know it’s hard but listen, focus, you, you the most beautiful person on this whole entire planet you are going to make it, I promise you sweetheart, you’re going to make it. Think about it, think about how skinny you’ll be, how happy you will be, how you are going to be able to wear what you want, how you are going to be able to eat what you want and no one is going to make you feel bad for eating, no one. They’re going to be jealous, so fucking jealous, jealous of how you look and how you feel. They’re going to envy you. So stand up, keep your pretty head up and go. Exercise, drink water, eat less, eat healthy, sleep, do yoga, dance around. Get skinny and be finally happy. Please be finally happy.

You’ve been so disappointed in yourself lately. You’ve cursed those girls with a fast metabolism and regretted so much, sweetie. Countless of times you’ve thought, planned and wished to be skinny. I know you want this so badly, honey. But it’s never going to be given to you, sugar. You have to work for it and make yourself proud! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I know you’re very impatient with your weight-loss. You want to lose it NOW and would do anything to wake up tomorrow at you ugw. But that’s never going to happen, doll. It’ll take time, but you will get there, sweetie. You just have to be persistent and never give up. The road is very long, and there will be days where it’ll feel hopeless, angel. But i promise you that those days where you feel incredibly sexy and comfortable in your own skin are just around the corner. You’ll get there baby, but it’ll take time. So don’t beat yourself up.

You’ll look good in everything; you remember that bikini with the cute print? yes, you’ll look beautiful in it. you won’t look like a fat pig.

people will be jealous; they’ll envy you. you’ll become thinner while others are getting fatter.

you’ll be dainty; you’ll be the lightest in the room. everyone will be able to pick you up effortlessly.

others will compliment you; people will look at you and say “wow, have you lost weight?” “you look great!” “i wish i looked like you.”

you won’t be able to keep more than a cup of food down; you’ve trained your body, you and your body both know its limits.

you’ll have power; you can can control how you look, you’ll have control. self control instead of eating everything in sight. you’ll be proud when you refuse a chocolate bar someone is offering.

are you going to keep saying “i’ll do it tomorrow”

or are you going to start today?

you’ll get there sweetie, make them regret the day they dare call you fat; they’ll start talking GOOD behind your back; “she is losing so much weight omg” “ i wanna look like her.” “im so jealous of her tiny waist.”

make it happen, you cause the gain of weight

and the loss of weight.

It's Okay!

You were really bad this weekend weren’t you? You ate fatty food and cheated on your diet? I know you bash yourself for pushing yourself further from your goal, but it was just Easter and you were enjoying spending time with your family. Unfortunately that included eating. Thin is all you think about cutie, why would you stuff your face uncontrollably like that, sugar? You can’t stop now, i know it’s hard but it’ll be worth it in the end.

Meanspo

Dear You,

You’ve grown up being the “big” girl. You’ve grown up being the “I want seconds” girl. You entered college being the “let’s eat out because it’s easier” girl.

When will you be the “I eat healthy” girl? The “people can pick me up” girl? The “I love my body” girl?

Today? Oh, right, you say tomorrow. Funny, that’s what you said yesterday.

It’s YOUR fault you’re fat. You don’t control your fatty urges to binge and stuff your face. One day, you’ll regret that. And that day is TODAY. If you regret it, then make a change. Skip that meal. Eat less calories. Exercise and burn what you have consumed and stored from your past pathetic eating habits. Get rid of your fatty urges. BECOME SKINNY…Become beautiful. Because if you don’t start today, you’ll only hate yourself tomorrow… again.

Do it. Do it so you can wear cute short shorts without everyone looking at your thighs and being disgusted.

Do it for that bitch who always called you fat at middle school.

Do it for that fuckboy who never looked at you as girlfriend potencial.

Do it so you can be confident.No seriously you’ll never be confident with that big tummy dude.

Do it so you don't ALMOST DIE in fitting rooms.

Do it for the cute clothes.

Do it for the summer.

Do it for the pool parties and how all of your friends will be SHOOK at your perfect body.

Do it for that life little baby. You deserve it. You deserve so much happiness.

Imagine you’re sitting at your desk in your perfectly decorated bedroom. You’re doing school work (all A’s of course), and since the lighting is good, you stop studying for a second and take a selfie.

You notice your collarbones are perfectly peaking out, and your chest bones are slightly visible. You have no makeup on but you still look absolutely gorgeous. Your flawless skin (that you got from not eating junk food all the time) looks great on your camera. Your thin arms look especially toned in this picture, and your smile is unforgettable.

You decide to post it to Instagram, and it instantly gets likes and comments saying how gorgeous you look. You want to keep studying…but the amount of likes and attention is distracting!

You think to yourself “Amazing how my life has changed. 30lbs ago I barely got 30 likes. My grades were bad and I had horrible acne…it’s so great what being thin can do to a person”

One day I won’t have to suck in

One day I’ll sit down and not have belly rolls

One day my thighs won’t touch

One day I’ll be able to see my ribs

One day I’ll step on the scale and smile

One day I’ll be able to smile at my protruding collar bones

One day I’ll wear the clothes I want

One day I’ll be confident

One day I’ll be skinny

do it for the boy who leaves your snapchats at read. imagine how quickly he’ll reply when he sees how good you look in your new body. do it for the girls you envy, the girls who show up in crop tops and short shorts whilst you hide behind a baggy sweater. imagine how proud you’ll feel when you can finally wear what you want and look just as good, if not better than them. do it for the people who bullied you about your weight and the boys who turned you down because of it. watch them gawk and whisper among themselves at how much weight you’ve lost. do it for the mean girls, the ones that walk around school like they own the place, the ones who’s parties you never get invited to, the ones that all the boys want. prove yourself to them. soon they’ll notice you and you’ll be too proud to care. own your new found confidence, throw your own parties, feel wanted. do it for the boy you’ve been crushing on since the first time you met. make him want you just as you wanted him. laugh at yourself as he chases after you. watch him suffer just as you did. do it for the bikini you’ve never had the body to wear. make your old self proud. wear that bikini. finally feel good in it. go to the beach and the pool and show it off. it belongs on you. do it for yourself. do it for your own happiness and do it right now. you deserve this. it might take some time and maybe you’re growing impatient. but it’s okay, everything good takes time. so be safe, stay strong, and don’t give up. this will be worth the wait. trust me.

I literally cannot fucking wait until I’m thin. I can’t wait to not feel like the outsider in my friend group. I can’t wait to not feel like the ugly friend. I can’t wait to be as thin as my best friend and for people to not see me as a charity case. I can’t wait to be able to go shopping and not worry about what will hide my fat. I can’t wait to see my collarbones and feel great in shorts. I can’t wait to be able to post selfies confidently from any angle and get as many likes as all the thin girls from school. I can’t wait to be someone else’s thinspo. I can’t wait to be happy with myself. I can’t wait to be thin.

Okie lovey, I know you might have had a rough couple of days or maybe you’ve been doing everything right and you just need a little pick me up. That’s okay too. I’m here for you, maybe not there physically but I’m still here. Make some tea, and take a bath; while you’re in there light a few candles and take time for yourself. Paint your nails read a book or simply think about bettering yourself. You’re almost there, I’m so excited for you! I’m going to be there when you cross that finish line (UGW). Finished with tea? Are you hungry? No. Exactly, chin up sweetheart, you got this. I love you

10 Reasons I want to be Thin

1. A flat stomach looks so good in anything. 2. No more armpit fat. 3. Finally have a thigh gap (again). 4. Feel beautiful and in control 5. people you already know will ask you how you did it, new people you meet will fall in love with you. 6. Go on adventures and have fun without worrying about your fat jiggling around. 7. Tan outside or at the lake without wanting to die because you’re too fat for a bikini. 8. Going out to parties and making friends because you’re confident and beautiful. 9. Not wanting to cry every time you see your full body in a mirror/ reflection. 10. Not crying in general anymore. Finally being happy.

11 Reasons Why I'm Doing This

1. To be the skinny friend

2. So I can be lifted up and be called light

3. To wear anything and still look cute

4. To have pretty bones to show off

5. To hear those words; ‘Have you lost weight?’

6. To not feel guilty when having a sweet treat (occasionally!)

7. To wear tight jeans and not have a muffin top

8. To not want to cry every time I look in the mirror

9. To not feel embarrassed in a bikini or swimsuit

10. To sit on someone’s lap without fear of crushing them

11. To finally feel happy with myself

They are in the kitchen making dinner. It smells so good, and all you want to do is have some. But would that make you happy? Would that food actually do anything for you? Sure, it would taste good. But as soon as you swallow, it would be gone. You’d take a drink of water, and the taste would wash away. Five minutes of fun, and then you’d be full. Full of food, regret, hate, shame, and disgust. Today would be yet another day wasted. So go ahead, eat the food. Be the fat tub of lard you always have been. Or don’t. Don’t eat the food. Be a day closer to your goal.

The choice is yours.

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

Two Bisexuals Are Your Co-Captains

ao3

“I solved racism,” Mariner says, kicking open the ready room door. This should not be physically possible, as doors have progressed past the need to be opened, and are, in fact, automatic.

Boimler, whose face is currently one with the synthetic wooden desk, gives her a thumbs up but doesn’t move beyond that.

“Okay, I lied, I didn’t solve racism,” Mariner admits. “It’s still a problem in our galaxy. But, I did solve our captain problem!” she tries. This does get Boimler to remove his face from it’s fixture on the desk.

“You did?” he blinks up at her, creases in his face from where it had been smooshed against the hard surface.

Mariner dumps an honest-to-god paper file on his desk. “Check it out, twink.”

Boimler swipes the file, frowning as nothing happens when he taps it. Mariner helps him out, flipping the cover over. “So there’s this really nifty rule back from like 2039 that allows for two acting captains to co-pilot the ship simultaneously.”

“Are you serious?” Boimler groans.

“As Legato Infection,” Mariner confirms. “It was apparently instated for missions where the crew is like. Separated or some shit and need more than one captain coordinating. Because Starfleet was also part of the air force for a while, co-captains were basically just co-pilots. Like this was a whole thing. But it got overwritten with the First Officer Act of 2048 that instated First Officers as a fill in instead of a co-captain, able to make decisions and delegate, but it was never technically outlawed. Meaning…”

“We could technically take advantage of the loophole and-”

“Co-Captains!” Mariner punches the air. “You know what this means?”

Boimler blinks at her blankly. Beckett applauds herself over the alliteration, as she throws an arm over his shoulder. “It’s our ship,” she whispers dramatically, already envisioning the communist flags with selfies of her and Boimler printed on them.

“Or it could just be your ship,” Boimler says, fear in his eyes.

Beckett grabs his collar, dragging him up to eye level. “Our ship.”

________

“Beckett no,” Freeman says flatly. Ever since The Incident--the one where the ship was overrun with the Pakleds that took out the entirety of senior command--she’s been in medbay, wrapped up in so many bandages she looks like a mummy from one of those really old movies Boimler is obsessed with.

“Beckett yes ,” Mariner says, taking a slurp of her cherry limeade slurpee. “You named me First Officer!”

“Then why does Boimler-”

“Ransom also named him First Officer!”

“So your brain jumped to Co-Captains ?” Mariner can’t see her mom’s expression, but from her squinty eyes she’s pretty sure it’s disapproving. “That is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“You can’t call your daughter dumb!” Mariner throws her hands up in the air.

“Mariner, you’re dumb.”

“That’s against parent rules! Everything I do is supposed to be a fucking delight!”

Freeman turns her judgy eyes to Boimler, who had been staring off into the middle distance, probably traumatized by all of the shrieking the mother and daughter duo had been doing since they entered medbay. Whatever, it’s not Mariner’s fault that her mom’s kneejerk reaction to her daughter charging into medbay with a bat'leth and no shirt on was to shriek like a goddamn banshee.

“You know what,” Freeman says, eyes locked on Boimler. “I’m already having a bad fucking week. Go ahead, make it worse I dare you .”

“Uhm-”

“We absolutely will do that,” Beckett promises, crossing her heart.

_____

“ ATTENTION ALL PERSONAL ,” Mariner says, over the ship’s speakers. D’Vana, from her position at the First Officer’s station, gives her a Disappointed Look. Mariner gives her a thumbs up back.

“ DUE TO OUR EXCRUCIATING CIRCUMSTANCES AND THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION BETWEEN YOUR FORMER CAPTAIN AND HER FIRST OFFICER, ENSIGN BOIMLER AND I WILL BE YOUR CO-CAPTAINS TONIGHT. OR FOREVER, WE HAVEN’T DECIDED YET.”

“Mariner, what are you doing?” Boimler says, storming onto the Bridge. Mariner, who had hacked the Bridge speakers to play Demi Lovato’s Confident every time Boimler entered, is pleased to note that nobody had figured out how to turn that off yet. Unfortunately for her, however, Boimler didn’t recognize his girlboss powers, and had been yelling at her every time it happened.

“I’m letting the ship know about our change in command, oh Co-Captain of mine,” Mariner says over the booming bass and Demi Lovato’s dulcet tones. In the corner of her eye, the vulcan side character that everyone thought was a Cool Guy, bopped his head to the music.

Boimler sighs, pressing his palms into his eyes. “So we’re actually doing this?”

“Dude, I already made us friendship jackets. That shit had a no refunds policy.” She pulls a leather jacket that had been draped over their helmsman's head--bad for ship navigation, but good for dramatic effect--and throws it at Boimler. Boimler unfolds the pink monstrosity, sighing deeply at the neon-yellow glitter words Gatekeep Girlboss Gaslight emblazoned on the back.

“Is this really necessary?”

“It’s ABSOLUTELY necessary,” Mariner says, standing up. She turns around, showing Boimler her purple jacket which says Malewife Mansplain Manipulate in snot-green glitter.

“HOW DOES THAT MATCH.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HOW DOES THAT MATCH.” Her voice echoes strangely, alerting her to the fact that the shipwide comms are still in use. She reaches over, flicking the switch off and turns back to Boimler, hands on her hips. “Is this an anxiety thing again? Do you need to go back on medication?”

“I don’t need to be on meds!”

“Then why won’t you wear our super secret special jackets!”

“Because mine is hot pink and says girlboss on the back!”

Mariner lets out a gasp. “Are you saying... Boimler are you adhering to GENDER ROLES?”

“No-no stop it -”

“You! You of ALL PEOPLE-”

“Mariner, cut it out!”

“LET IT BE KNOWN THAT BRAD BOIMLER IS A-”

Boimler pulls the jacket on so violently that he somehow elbows himself in the eye. The pink really does go with his hair-which Mariner knows for a fact he dyes himself every three weeks. “There! Happy?”

“So so happy.” Mariner hands him a martini from the tray she had brought in and nailed to the arm of the captain’s chair. The one she hands to Boimler has a rainbow umbrella in it. “So, first order of business. I think we need car seats for short people.”

“Excuse me.”

Mariner picks up her own martini glass and takes a chug, choking on the strawberry chunks she had grinded into it a few minutes before Boimler got here. “You know, car seats? That shit you put babies in because cars are a danger to humanity but we keep buying them? I think the shorties on this ship deserve some protection.”

Boimler drains his glass. “Fine, whatever, I don’t even care anymore.”

______

Mariner is commissioning the previously mentioned communist flags with hers and Boimler’s faces printed on them, when Tendi comes into the ready room. She is wearing the face of complete and utter defeat that everyone else had been wearing since the Co-Captains had been instated. Mariner insists it’s because they’re sad that she and Boimler wouldn’t get to be captains forever. Boimler says it’s because everyone’s writing their suicide notes to their familes.

“Mariner, we need to talk,” Tendi says, using the opening line to every break up Mariner’s been a part of and seen on tv. Which is really weird because she didn’t think she and Tendi were in a relationship.

“I’m all ears,” Mariner says, which is a dumb fucking line because clearly she isn’t , but people say that all the time.

“I don’t want to be your First Officer,” Tendi says, crossing her arms. “It was fun for the first week, but after you made it mandatory to do the Macarena during the first ten minutes of each hour, morale has been down.”

“Hmm,” Mariner pets Boimler’s therapy cat, Dishwasher, thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll make that one optional. Any other requests?”

Tendi sighs. “No,” she admits. “To be honest, the ship is running at 98%, which is the highest any ship in Starfleet has ever run. I think Brad orgasmed when he heard about that.”

“You call him Brad ?” Mariner stares up at her friend, aghast.

“That’s his name?”

“Yeah, and his cat’s name is Dishwasher , but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to call her that!” Dishwasher growls at her name. Mariner shushes her, hands clamped over her ears. “She turns into a murder-rage machine when you call her by her given name! How do we know Boimler isn’t the same?”

“Because I call him Brad all the time!” Tendi hisses back, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Oh my god, he’s probably serial killing as we speak. I hope you’re ready to talk to the victim’s families and let them know that their loved one’s died because you couldn’t help yourself.”

Tendi stares at Mariner for a full minute. “Resignation,” she reiterates, pointing at Mariner. “I want to be a gross ensign scrubbing the deck again. Nepotism sucks .”

“Fine, you’re demoted. Go enjoy mediocrity.”

“I will.” Tendi storms out, kicking the door shut. Which again, is completely, 100% impossible because it’s the 23rd century or whatever-Mariner’s not keeping count-and automatic doors are now a Thing.

Mariner hacks their speaker systems to play the Wii Shop Channel Music-a reliac of the past only alluded to on private groupchats and servers- to play whenever Tendi entered a room. It’s the least she could do.

______

“As your First Officer,” a reluctant Rutherford says reluctantly, “I am here to remind you that that would be a very bad idea .”

“Rutherford, who’s the boss around here?” Mariner asks, hands on her hips.

Rutherford sighs. “You.”

“And as the boss, who makes all the decisions around here?”

Another sigh. “ You .”

“Then why are you being a killjoy over my decision to get down and dirty with my Co-Captain?”

Rutherford makes a shriek-y noise, like those boys who got their testicles cut off in the old days so they could sing opera. “Mariner, I’m serious, don’t do it .”

“Is it against regulation?”

“No,” Rutherford groans. “You’re both the same rank-”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You can’t sleep with Boimler just because you can!”

“That’s not why I’m going to sleep with Boimler,” Mariner waves him off. “I was sitting on his lap the other day-”

“Oh my god -”

“-in the Captain's chair--ooh we should look into getting another one of those, TWO chairs are better than one--”

“Mariner, to the point please.”

“Oh, yeah, so I’m in his lap and I maay have backed up a little too far and bumped up against-”

“Stop literally stop .”

“Yeah, so turns out Boimler is PACKING and I gotta hop on that train, so to speak.”

“Okay, you know what?” Rutherford shoves his padd at Mariner. “I quit, I can’t do this. I want to be a lower decks ensign again.”

“Wow, you’re like, the seventeenth person this week to quit. Which, coincidentally, is exactly how long I’ve been captain.”

“Yeah, weird coincidence,” Rutherford deadpans.

_____

“I may have fucked up, Mom,” Mariner shrieks, waltzing into medbay with all the grace of a duck pulling off a white bread heist. “I think you should take captaincy back.”

Freeman, who had fully recovered two days ago, but refused to engage in the chaos Mariner was purposely causing on her ship, looks up from where she’s reclining with her long island ice tea and swimwear magazines. “Really now?”

“ Yes . All of my friends hate me and I found out Boimler has purple pubs.”

Freeman almost drops her drink. “ What .”

“Tell me about it. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still fucking, but like. Wow, I thought he dyed everything. Turns out that shit is natural.”

Freeman covers her face with one hand. “No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re keeping the ship.”

“WHAT.”

“I already spoke to your father,” Freeman gives her daughter a shark-like smile. “We agreed that this position of authority has been good for you. And, considering, the ship is running better than any ship in Starfleet since the inception of the Federation, the Admiralty wants you and Boimler to stay on.”

“ WHAT .”

“They think it’s an interesting social experiment that merits more research. Congratulations, you and your fuck-buddy are now ginnypigs.”

___

“I think, as a sign of protest, we should rename the ship,” Mariner says, draped across the desk in the ready room. Boimler, sprawled out all over the desk chair, snorts. The room has been completely revamped in pride flags and the previously mentioned communist flags. Mariner thinks it’s her best interior design work, but Boimler claims it’s an eyesore.

“What would we name it?” he asks, humoring her.

Mariner considers it, taking a swig of vodka. “Okay, hear me out. Q and Picard’s Loveboat.”

Boimler grabs the bottle out of her hand, taking a chug. “You know what? This might as well happen.”

They submit the formal request on Boimler’s padd a few minutes later and are both pleasantly-at least in Mariner’s case-surprised that it goes through. It’s likely that the guy in charge of filtering these requests is either very very bored or very very underpaid and either way Mariner likes his energy.

A few days later, they have Q AND PICARD’S LOVEBOAT stamped across the side of the ship in comic sans-a truly underappreciated font from ye olden days that Mariner dug up one night on the wayback machine.

It takes exactly four weeks for the Admiralty to catch wind of it-by then she and Boimler had been Co-Captains for almost two months-and, well, there isn’t much they can do about it.

She does receive a rather long voicemail from her dad that she promptly deletes. She’s not about that energy.

_____

“Boims, Boims, Boims,” Mariner chants, crawling into his bed. Boimler lets out a shriek as her ice cold toes slide up against his bare thigh.

“So you know how our ship got renamed so easily?” she says, once Boimler had stopped screaming. “Well, I found the dude who approved it. Nice kid, I want his gender. Anyway, looks like my dad is getting a new ship and they're getting someone to christen it.”

“Oh my god,” Boimler says faintly, turning his face into his pillow.

“I may have gotten us on the list of possible people to christen it. As in, the kid hacked the server for me and we're the only people on that list.”

Boimler looks like he's regretting everything ever. He also looks like he's kind of in love with her. Mariner inspires that kind of duality in people. “What are we going to name it?” his voice has a tinge of fear in it that both of them get off on. The kink is strong with this couple.

Mariner grins.

_______

THE DADMIRAL: ACT OF REBELLION OR GENIUS?

Ash H. Beiggs

Many of you may remember the highly criticized decision Starfleet made when instating “Co-Captains” on the starship Q and Picard’s Loveboat ( formally known as the USS CERRITOS). Well, Captains Bradward P. Boimler and Beckett E. Mariner are back with bigger and bolder headlines to make.

The chaotic young duo are renowned Federation-wide not only for running the tightest ship in Starfleet, but for their unorthodox methods. Captain Mariner in particular has been praised for her innovating thinking and usual personality. When asked about her decision to name Admiral Mariner’s ship The Dadmiral she simply claimed that “Mohammad had his mountain, Jesus had his followers and [she] had a molotov cocktail and nothing to lose.” Captain Boimler declined to comment.

The actual christening of The Dadmiral was reported as a “spectacle to behold” by many onlookers. Captain Mariner was seen streaking through the aforementioned ship, with a bottle of vodka in one hand. Her Co-Captain was not far behind her, but was reportably more restrained. The actual christening was completed by Captain Mariner who “yeeted the vodka” into the ships warp core, shouting “ One of us. One of us,” in rapid succession until she was removed by security.

Neither Admiral Mariner or Captain Freeman are available to comment at this time.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Lionheart Party

In straight white slacks, the dark green Cassell blazer and a button up shirt tucked in neatly, Tigre couldn’t have looked more preppy. His dark hair was slicked back in a flamboyant green bow that highlighted his aqua eyes. He smiled and greeted Lionheart members courteously as instructed by Celeste.

“Look them in the eyes, smile warmly and shake their arms firmly. Maybe pat their shoulders as they pass through the door but not too hard and not too soft, like a caress. Less with the ladies. Just a smile will suffice. Thank them for coming and direct them straight to the wine.”

“Really? The wine?” Tigre said, startled. 

“Yes.” Celeste grinned.

“Welcome! Thank you for coming!” Tigre said, shaking the hand of a guest and patting his shoulder as he walked inside. “The wine is on the bar to your left!”

Celeste didn’t bother even announcing the party campus wide. She was only interested in entertaining Lionheart members. He was the S-ranked student, but she was the host. She hung him outside the door like a decoration. Her first accomplishment here.

Word of the unorthodox living accommodations spread like wildfire around the campus but Tigre said he was fine with it. The girls were helping him tremendously and he didn’t care much for the rumors. He was excited that he was on his way to becoming a dragon-like person, just like his ancestors. 

The Lionheart men weren’t interested in him anyway. 

As he shook the hand of one tall blue-eyed man with the looks of a male model, he drew Tigre in for a surprise hug and asked, “So which sister is yours huh?”

Tigre laughed awkwardly, recalling the conversation in the car. The whole reason they liked him is because he didn’t demand their attention. “I uh… will let them decide that. It’s their choice.”

The man threw back his head and laughed. “Smart! I like you!”

“The wine is that way.”

The svelte handsome man winked and went that way, but he took his hand and dragged him inside. 

Tigre dug in his heels and trie to delay. “Wait, I’m supposed to... “

“Hey my buddy bought cookies. You should try them.”

Celeste stood like a bold centerpiece in the dorm, speaking to the three of them with a flute of champagne. She spoke in short clips, smiling in a floor length white satin dress, gesturing her dark arms and shoulders. Her neck glittered with a diamond on a thin gold chain. Her hair was done up in a braided crown.

Ruby was helping to serve the drinks and keeping everything stocked up. She had been talking to a man with dark skin and black eyes with straight hair held back with enough gel to make it stick together in lumps, when she suddenly broke eye contact with him and caught eye contact with Tigre. Her expression caught the attention of her suitor who followed her gaze back to him. As soon as he saw the Cassell S-rank watching them, he backed away, hands up in innocence and wandered off in defeat.

Ruby mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

Porsche was laughing on the couch in a green dress that was cut all the way up to her knees, leaving her leg completely bare as she crossed one over the other. The two guys on either side of her couldn’t seem to keep their eyes on her face, she wiggled her heeled shoe a bit and smirked when they looked before continuing her conversation about the wonders of her home country of Tanzania.

Tigre lowered his eyes a bit. They were having so much fun. He should do or say something, but nothing comes to mind. What they were doing was none of his business. They wanted to be friendly with all these people because they wanted to lead the club so it was important to show off in the meet and greet. He couldn’t hold a conversation like they could. If he tried to chat, he might ruin things. 

He nodded to himself that, for now, it was fine to hang out. When he reached the bar, he turned around and looked into a pair of beautiful dark eyes with a pale face. 

“Hey there.” Her skin reminded him of Celeste’s satin dress, smooth and shining in the light. He was supposed to welcome and smile and lead to the wine and that was all, but he found himself suddenly tongue tied. 

“I’m Veronica. A pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand, palm down, displaying her painted red nails that matched her elegant straight gown.

“Hi…” Tigre looked at her hand. He wasn’t supposed to shake hands with them, right? Her hand wasn’t in the right position to shake anyway. His arm twitched, not sure what to do.

Veronica’s smile vanished and her expression darkened as she lowered her hand, but she smiled again, recovering. “This is the party right?”

“Yes. The wine is right over there.” Tigre said, happy to get back on script.

“I’m not interested in wine. I don’t drink.” She said, “And I know. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes.” She was standing over a tray of cookies. “Want to try some?”

“Sure!”

Veronica smiled and stepped next to him. “Mind if I keep you company?”

“Not at all!” Tigre said. He felt a sense of relief not to be by himself any more. The cookies were good, sweet, warm and chocolatey. He reached for another.

The next person came up and Veronica stepped forward and shook his hand. 

“Veronica… fancy meeting you here.” The blonde man said.

“I’m a member of Lionheart now so…” She looked up at Tigre. “Tigre… is that your real name…?”

“It is.” Tigre nodded.

“Tigre, I’m Henry Everton. My parents are of an old dynasty in Poland that immigrated to the US during World War II and made money in the oil business.”

“Oh I see.” 

“Where is your family from?”

He almost said he didn’t know. But he did know. “Dragons!” he exclaimed confidently.

Everton wheezed for a second, trying to hold in his mouth full of wine, and then laughed. “Wow. That’s what it all comes down to right?”

Veronica nodded. “That’s why we’re all here. Cassell attracts the highest purity hybrids from all over the world. Tigre knows why we’re here as well. According to the registry, he majored in martial arts.”

“Oh really? You might as well so long as you have the physique and energy for it. I personally can’t handle getting into too many fights. But you look like you’ve been in a few yourself.”

Tigre self-consciously bit into another cookie. “I have.”

He felt a sudden sense of relief. He seemed comfortable just standing at the bar and holding a conversation.

“OH you know who has your same major? Alex.” He turned and shouted.  “Hey Alex!”

Alex looked to be about 6 foot 50 and about as wide. He lumbers across the living room and towers over Tigre like a goliath. Tigre didn’t remember this guy coming in. Wait…

He turned to the door. People were just walking in! He’d left his post and people were just flowing in like crazy!

Celeste was staring at him, with angry black eyes.

Panicked, Tigre looked up at Alex who stared down at him like he could pound him completely through the floor.

“Yeah I think he’s in like all your classes this is awesome! You guys should exchange numbers.” Everton beamed and slapped Alex on the bottom before going to greet the people coming in.

“Ah sure…” Tigre pulled out his phone that he got from Toyama and tried to remember how to add a contact. After a few awkward seconds he gave up. “Can I… just give you my number?”

Ruby has gone to the door for crowd control but she isn’t nearly the presence that Tigre apparently was. Soon, she’s surrounded and fielding awkward questions from guys who looked like they were drunk already. There must have been another party somewhere and maybe it had ended? Or were people here just drunk all the time?

Porsche wasn’t going to help her sister, she was busy taking selfies on the couch, holding out her phone and making a victory sign with her fingers. “Okay now give me all your numbers.” She commanded. All the guys were happy to comply.

Tigre finally got the number to Alex the Giant, who apparently was in all his classes.

He grumbled. “I look forward to seeing you in battlefield training.”

“Right…” He whispered. “S...same here.”

Tigre turned to the bar where three guys were filling the cups of the people in line. One man had a cup in each hand and spilled a bit on the floor as he walked back to the door to give beer to people as they were coming in.

He was so distracted he didn’t realize Veronica was talking to him. “As part of my study, I was tasked with researching S-ranks like Principal Anjou and Lu Mingfei. They seem very ordinary on the surface, but their minds are anything but ordinary. They’re not overly obsessed with anything in this world. Anjou appreciates good things in the world but can hardly enjoy them because this is not his world. Lu Mingfei seems to feel the same way. No matter how much he attains in power or status, he’s not truly interested in it. So it didn’t surprise me at all to see you outside the party on your own. This is exactly how S-rankers act.”

“I… I guess?” He stammered. He turned and caught sight of Porsche who was in a full blown make out session with one of the men on the couch. They way his  hand moved up her body and over her shoulders and then over her hair and…

Someone knocked into him and apologized. “Oh wait!” He looked up at him wide eyed. “You’re the S-ranker. That’s awesome! So are you half lizard or something? I hear you guys turn into dragons when you’re really pissed off.”

“I… don’t think so?”

The man shoved a beer into his hand. “Here bottoms up. I want to talk to you and hear your story. Are you from a whole family of dragonslayers?”

“No..”

“Really? Where are you from?”

“Mexico… I…”

“Mexico? I haven’t heard a lot about dragons there but you know what? I had a sister who did a whole report on the legend of Quetzocoatl… I wonder if you have some sort of Dragon Lineage from that, but it’s also possible that Hybrids came from the Conquistadores. I mean, it’s possible that Cortez and Montezuma were hybrids… or maybe even Dragons!”

Tigre couldn’t walk without bumping into someone. The whole place smelled like alcohol. The music was suddenly extremely loud and people were bouncing in the living room. This was all his fault. He had one job. Celeste was going to kill him. 

The man ushered him onto a couch with two other people. He introduced them but he could barely hear over the noise. 

“By the way, I live downstairs down the hall. I heard the party going on and you know…”

“Wait, all these people live here?”

“Yes, like, I think three quarters of these people are your neighbors. How’d you get a pad like this? I mean dang, shackin’ up with the Smith girls? Lucky you.”

“They might kick me out after this…” He squeaked.

“No they won’t.”  This guy switched out his empty cup with a full one. “You’re kind of quiet…”

Tigre looked down at his cup and realized it was plastic and a shade of red. He didn’t remember these cups being in the bar area. “Where did this cup come from?”

“If you crash a party you bring your own booze. Common courtesy. So which one of those girls is yours?”

Tigre suddenly felt very dizzy and tired. “I don’t know. I don’t…”

“Oh come on, be honest… There’s one you got your eye on? I don’t want to step on any toes.”

“Porsche likes guys a lot. You should talk to her.” He kept trying to focus his eyes. People were laughing awfully loud.

“Excellent. By the way, Veronica is nice. You know if you don’t like chocolate.”

Tigre squinted at him and realized this was not the person who was talking about Mesoamerican mythology earlier. Someone else had sat next to him and he didn’t even realize it. He suddenly wondered if there was some sort of time skip and he’d been sitting here for a longer time than he realized.

It sank in that he was intoxicated. He didn’t drink that much. How could he feel this listless and out of it? He decided it was probably best to just stay on the couch and not move too much. He was afraid of falling because the room was tilting so bad.

Two freshman hooked up microphones and a beat started playing. They were speaking quickly at each other and insulting each other with quick words and phrases that somehow rhymed.  People cheered and goaded on the best rhyming phrases and much to his shock Celeste broke from the crowd and snatched the mic.

Her dress was slightly stained. “This is my party, this is my house, so listen up, Mama Celly gonna rap now. Yo all you fellas walkin’ like you wanna piece o’ me. But I’m not your baby girl who’s gonna go down easily! Disses just starting, Kiss and kowtow, I’m gonna take you ‘part as future Lady Lionheart!”

She wasn’t angry? She was having fun?

“Oh… good…”  Tigre slid down the couch, laid down and blacked out.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 5

Thanks to @statell​ for your help and guidance

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Five

Jamie walked his newly planted fields and saw green shoots coming up in every direction. He prayed for a good harvest this year. Not because he was poor or starving, he just wanted to win at something this year. He answered his cell phone and stood up straight, listening intently.

“Are you sure it’s Casper? I’ll leave within the hour and meet you in Paris.”

Jamie felt exhilarated and ran back to the house and into the shower. Casper had come out of retirement and stolen a painting from a private gallery. He did the same thing at a London gallery the previous weekend. It seemed a bit low end but at the very least, it would buy him more time. He got packed and headed for the airport.

Claire sat in her office at the University, staring into gray space. Her pencil tapped absently and when Geillis called to her she jumped.

“Calm yerself, Claire. I had hoped you could settle down a bit, especially with your gorgeous high-security apartment, and it’s been five months without word from that snake Randall. But yer still very unhappy. Why?”

Claire looked up at Geillis and shook her head, saying she didn’t sleep much the night before and not to worry. She packed up and went home for even more quiet time with her gray thoughts and more time to worry she was losing her mind. Jamie lived in her head now, always with her, always heartbroken because of what she did. She didn’t think he would ever speak to her again, and if he did, what would she say? Looking at the clock she wanted to scream because it was only seven o’clock. That was the worst part of missing Jamie, an hour took forever to go by so the torture never ended.

Claire grabbed some lined paper and a pen to see just what she would say to Jamie. Maybe getting it all out is what she needed to start feeling better. She could burn the letter after it was written.

Jamie poured over the reports and studied the crime scene photos of what were now three thefts. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He spent two full days checking his contacts in the black market, but no one knew the fence for this art, no one knew anything. The last guy he spoke to said someone told him a Monet would be in play soon, but he didn’t know which one. Jamie thanked him and promised the standard reward if the information was used to apprehend Casper.

Jamie sat on the same bench he shared with Claire six months ago and he let himself remember her smile and whisky brown eyes. She was playful and sexy, and he believed she had feelings for him. He shook his head and opened the newspaper. Flipping pages to the art section he scanned the ads and bam, there it was. A mid-range gallery hosting a private collection of Monet the following weekend. This, it seemed, was Casper’s new normal. Private showings and small galleries. Jamie had a good feeling about the location, and they had one week to set the scene to catch Casper.

There was one piece of evidence left by Casper that wasn’t shared with the world. It was how they identified him as the thief. Casper took great pains to keep the art intact, unlike many who pull the canvas from the frame basically ripping it out. Casper used some kind of tool to pop the nails that held the canvas in the frame. Whatever this tool was left distinct marks on the wood, a half-moon indentation. It was all they had so it was a guarded secret.

Claire pulled another piece of paper, the fourth piece, and continued writing a letter she would never send. Her feelings opened up to her like a blooming flower and she let it flow thinking the answer to her continuous sadness would reveal itself so she could fix it. When she was ready to end the letter and had said all there was to say, she wrote, ’I have never shared this much of me with anyone and I hope it cures my broken heart. I can summarize these four pages by saying I love you, Jamie, with all my heart, I love you.’

Claire sat up and looked at the paper. The words I love you seemed to jump off the page and she just stared at them. Before she could stop herself she sent a text to Jamie, ‘I love you, please forgive me. Claire” Send.

She didn’t expect to hear from him but hoped this would give her some closure. She went to bed.

Jamie stared at his phone and felt his heart ramming in his chest. Those words were the absolute last he expected to see, six months after they parted. He wouldn’t be returning the text, but as he fell asleep he said out loud, “I love you too Claire.”

The Monet show was one day away, and Jamie called Javier to ask about the gallery. He seemed genuinely happy he called and suggested they meet for lunch and he would answer any questions he could. Seeing the older man’s happy face was bittersweet for Jamie. They met at a sidewalk cafe and Jamie told him about the show. He asked about the gallery, if there were hidden entrances, a second vault, a basement, or structural abnormalities. Javier answered what he could and asked Jamie who it was they were closing in on.

“Casper.”

Javier almost choked on his coffee, “Casper you say? Well, that is wonderful, I hope you get him.”

The men talked a bit about sports and Jamie thanked Javier for his help and then bit him goodbye.

Claire came home early and saw a coded message from Javier. Once Tom deciphered the message, she couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘Lunch with Jamie, he is preparing to arrest Casper tomorrow on a tip about a Monet. Needless to say, I was very surprised but not worried because you are in Chicago, right?’ Claire held the Chicago Tribune in front of her chest and took a selfie that she sent to Javier. She needed some air.

Jamie and his team had installed close circuit tv monitors in the gallery office and extra cameras throughout the exhibit. They scrutinized each visitor until their eyes were blurry. Jamie noticed a man standing in front of one of the pictures for a very long time. When he moved away the picture was still there, but Jamie’s gut was telling him the guy wasn’t normal. He radioed to his men near the door and described the man as he started running. The man was already being led out of the gallery when Jamie got to him. This was surprising since he would expect a man to fight harder for his freedom. The art thief had switched the painting with a reproduction and was arrested. His pockets were searched and a small Leatherman multitool was handed to Jamie. It was a link to Casper he thought, and a billion other people.

Later that afternoon, Jamie questioned the suspect who knew all the details of the last three crimes but was confused about the others.

“Tell me, sir, why did you rip the Rembrandt canvas out of the frame? Was someone coming?”

“I don’t remember, probably.”

Jamie made a sound of disgust, “if you intend to impersonate someone, sir, at least get the details straight. You are not Casper, nor could you ever be. You’re not smart enough.”

Jamie left the suspect handcuffed to the table and left. The pressure from his employers had let up with the newly revived Casper chase but now they would learn it was a copycat crime and his nightmares would start again.

“Yes, sir. It was a copycat, sir.”

“This is not good news for us or you Mister Fraser. We gave you an additional six months and you failed to fulfill your end of our bargain. I’m sorry Mister Fraser, it is out of my hands. The court will be notified of your failure to abide, sadly our agreement will be nullified.”

Jamie put the phone down and walked outside for some air. All of his tomorrows suddenly vanished and the nightmare of his captivity came back in living color. He was terrified. Not of monsters or torture, but of loneliness, desolation, no hope of escape. Jamie realized he left his phone at the office and jogged back before he lost that too.

Once back at his hotel, the phone vibrated an incoming text and Jamie’s heart sank, they don’t fool around, he thought. He looked with disbelief at the text message. ‘Come to Greece Jamie, please give me a chance to fix the hurt I caused. Two weeks on a yacht, just you and me going from one island to another. My heart aches to be near you. We can spend the first day making rules we are comfortable with. Claire.’

Jamie held his phone while the heartbreak over missed opportunities crushed him. “I love you too, Sassenach. Forget about me and find your happiness.” No text was returned, instead, Jamie got back to his reports and the grief settled into his bones.

Claire had battled herself for days over sending the text. The semester was over and she was getting out of Chicago for two weeks at least. She owned a yacht that was moored in Greece and the open water always made her feel better. For days Claire waited to hear back from Jaime, but no text came. This was the second time she extended an olive branch, leaving herself vulnerable, and he did not make contact. He was lost to her forever she concluded, and try as she might, the tears came, her legs buckled, and she sobbed into a gray pillow on her gray couch in her gray apartment, like her heart would never mend.

Jamie spent three days closing his case on Casper and the successful arrests made during the past year. He checked out of the hotel and headed for the airport. He considered calling Javier, but he wasn’t strong enough to show a brave face. Javier reminded Jamie of his own father in many ways and he didn’t want the reality of who and what he was to be known. Not to anyone in her world. Her perfect, sparkling world would be repelled by him. Like a muddy pig running through a fancy white living room. Jamie swiped at his eyes in the taxi and tried to stop thinking about it. His phone buzzed for email and he brought it up.

Good afternoon, Mister Fraser.

We have ironed out the details of your return and would like to ask for your complete cooperation. Our agreement is not to be known outside of the agency and we want you to extract yourself slowly to avoid anyone looking for you or filing reports that you are missing. You will return to us as quiet as possible. I do hope you agree, the alternative is rather brutal.

I understand you have a small farm in Scotland and will need time to sell it and conclude any other business such as liquidating assets and the like. We are offering a four to six-week window and ask that you keep us informed.

Any questions you can reach out to this address and I will receive the message.

Jamie paid the taxi driver who looked at him with sympathy and told him life will be brighter tomorrow. He wiped at his face and nodded. Sorry mister, wrong about that, no sun where I’m going, no love, no hope, no redemption, he thought.

When Claire landed in Athens, she spent half of the first day getting reacquainted with the captain and his girlfriend who lived on the ship. There were living quarters connected to the bridge and they were happy there, living on a luxury yacht waiting to be called to duty. She and Maia made three trips to the grocery store to stock food for a two-week journey.

Claire walked down the long dock with her arms full of last-minute purchases. She could feel one of the bags slipping through her arm and she felt sweat drip down the side of her face from the effort.

“Here, let me help you with that.” The man rescued the slipping bag and took all the others. Her subconscious smelled him and sent a cascade of neurotransmitters through her body that felt glorious and tense at the same time. She looked up at his face and just stared at his icy blue eyes and crooked smile.

“You invited me, remember Sassenach?” He asked the question nervously as he could not read the shock on her face.

“And here you are,” was her breathy response.

Jamie wanted to drop the bags and crush her to him. She was like the gift of air to a suffocating man.

Claire was so overwhelmed it took a few seconds to see the man that had stolen her heart was right in front of her. She pulled his head down and kissed him with all the pent up passion and loneliness of the past six months. Someone pulled the bags out of Jamie’s arms and he wrapped her up and held her to him. The kiss was a surrender to love, an invitation to leave the chrysalis of loneliness and fly into a world of their making. When she finally pulled away from him, she was the definition of happiness.

“It is so good to see you, Jamie.”

“You just restarted my dead heart Sassenach, thank you for that.”

He kissed her again and as time passed for the rest of the world, for them it didn’t exist. Jamie heard the musical sound of the Greek language and looked up at the biggest boat he had ever seen up close. Two beautiful people were on the top deck waving and laughing, beckoning them on board. He heard Claire laughing as she waved back.

“Do we get on that then?”

Claire was giggling, “we do, come on I’ll show you around.”

Jamie was astounded at the size and luxury of the yacht, three bedrooms, two decks, a large living area with a huge flatscreen, phones, and a bar. The galley had two refrigerators and a chest freezer, two ovens, microwaves, and large food preparation counters. The opulence was staggering and if not for the beautiful girl walking in front of him he would have looked closer. When they found the back deck, Claire pulled his mouth to hers and they were lost in love.

“Time for trunks or something more comfortable.”

She led him back to the master bedroom and helped him put his clothes away, noticing he packed for any occasion. She unbuttoned her shirt and Jamie watched her with interest as she pulled off her cut-off shorts to reveal the tiniest bikini, bright melon colored against her tanned skin. I will meet you on deck. Maia has been cooking since yesterday, so I promise you won’t starve. She looked at him and wanted to pinch herself in case she was dreaming. He was here, with her, he came.

Claire handed Jamie a cold glass of champagne and offered flatbread and several kinds of dip that were made from scratch while they chatted at the bar. The sexual energy was palpable, and Claire looked out at the ocean to think about something other than the mere twelve inches of space between them.

“My God, I haven’t noticed how blue the water is until now, I can’t remember the last time I saw blue.”

There was so much to discuss but every sentence fell stunted, unexplored because both were captivated with the other.

Claire picked up a ringing phone at the bar and told the captain they were ready to go. She smiled at Jamie and promised open ocean and sunshine for the next six hours.

“This is my first launch, you want to see it from the front deck?”

Jamie watched her mouth and nodded yes.

They got comfortable and sipped champagne as the captain eased the vessel away from the dock and toward the open ocean. It wasn’t long before the huge engines pushed the boat forward to cruising speed and Maia appeared with the cold bottle of champagne to refill their glasses.

“Maia, what do you have on?”

Maia was a Greek beauty with all the attributes this country was known for. Large brown eyes, a wide smile, and flowing hair to her waist. She looked down at her clothes and shrugged her shoulders,

“Uniform.”

Claire rubbed the highly starched shirt sleeve between her fingers and noticed the ill-fitting shorts. This would not do, she thought.

“You have been in cut-offs or a swimsuit since I arrived. Unless you love that uniform, I want you to be comfortable. Please, get that off.”

Maia thanked her and left them alone.

“I think we left the dip on back deck. Let’s go find it.”

Jamie noticed her voice was quiet and nervous sounding. When they walked to the other deck Claire closed the sliding glass door and locked it. The glass was black and Jamie wondered if it blocked the view from the other side. Claire led him to a lounge with a comfortable mattress and pillows to aide whatever ailed you. She walked back to the bar removing her button-down shirt revealing her exposed butt cheeks. She looked naked from behind and Jamie almost choked on his tongue. Her skin was already bronzed with a bit of sunburn on her cheeks and shoulders. She brought the tray of bread and dip and laid next to Jamie on the large lounge.

He took in every gorgeous inch of her and ran his hand down her hip and leg. He wanted to touch everything and tried to hold himself back.

“I promised we would go over the ground rules first thing.” She ran her hand across his massive chest and down his arm. When he saw her ramming heart pulsing in her neck, he let it go and pulled her on top of him to smother her with kisses. In his delirious mind, he decided this was enough, to have her body on his and her tongue in his mouth. When she broke the kiss, he chased her mouth as she sat up and straddled him. He watched her reach behind and pull the strings of her bikini top dropping it on the floor. She never took her eyes off his until he pulled her down and kissed her.

Their bodies were covered in sweat that made contact difficult, causing them to overheat or slide off each other. Claire stretched her arm until her fingertips touched the bridge phone.

“Darius, were you kidding about sea spray …ahhh…on the back deck when you dropped speed. Okay, do that please.”

She dropped the phone and used that arm to pull on the string holding Jamie’s trunks on. They slowed enough for the wake to slap the sides of the boat and lovely, cool, sea spray brought their temperature down for more vigorous activity. Jamie ran his tongue from her waist to breast and sucked a nipple while caressing the other. She was losing her mind and asked him to pound into her which he did in short order, gasping when he filled her. Claire felt the throbbing, almost painfully. She begged him not to stop, she was about to come. His next two strokes pressed into her and he twisted his hips. That did it. He held her and watched her face register the euphoria, he had never loved her more. When she pressed his butt, he pumped into her soft wetness until he stiffened and his body convulsed as he emptied himself into her.

They kissed and found their favorite resting position to snuggle and nap the afternoon away. Claire called the bridge and asked Darius to set whatever cruising speed he wanted, and the boat lurched forward.

Later, Jamie felt a cool breeze on his stomach and opened his eyes to a breathtaking sunset.

“Sassenach, sweetheart, you must see this beautiful sky.” Claire sat up and declared it the best sunset she had ever seen. What finally drove them inside was starvation and Maia served them a beautiful meal of lobster bisque, steak, and several Greek sides that were delicious but unknown to them.

Later they cuddled under a quilt on the top deck and let the heavens entertain them with shooting stars streaking across a black sky with billions of stars as a backdrop.

“It’s important to me that you really know who I am, how I got this way, how I could screw up so bad in Paris last Christmas. Would you mind?”

“Please Sassenach, there is nothing I’d like more.”

Claire turned on a battery-operated light and handed him her four-page burn letter. She couldn’t bring herself to burn it because it was all she had to remember him by. It was shoved into her wallet and now it was in Jamie’s hands. She felt self-conscious and rolled away to leave him to his reading. He caught her hand and pulled her back, “not without you love.”

He read every line and then, to her surprise, started at the first line and read it again.

“Jesus, lass, I hardly know what to say. Completely alone at five years old except for a man who dragged you from one archaeological dig to another. He wasn’t there for you emotionally, I see that, I also see how you slip easily into emotionless relationships. And why I didn’t hear from you for six months. It makes sense now, so many things. Come here, sweetheart.”

Jamie hugged Claire and pulled her to him. She was so grateful he read her letter, and then read it again. She hoped he would have more faith in her this time because now she knew how much she loved him.

“What is happening with Frank Sassenach?”

Claire was quiet just a little too long while she considered telling Jamie the truth. If she didn’t, the letter meant nothing and he still couldn’t trust her. She reached for her phone and launched her gallery.

“This is my new apartment that Javier rented for me, and that is all my new furniture. He arranged everything from the lease to filling the apartment with furniture, kitchen stuff, even clothes. The reason he had to do all this is because…”

Claire swiped to the next picture of her destroyed apartment showing various rooms and angles. Then she swiped again, and Jamie’s intake of air was loud enough for the sea creatures to hear. He grabbed her phone and sat up, studying the picture of her face after being knocked out.

“No, no, no, no, no, my God, how did this happen, who did this? Oh my God Claire, this is sickening.”

He stood up and walked the deck around their bed under the stars. He kept looking at the picture as she told him exactly what happened. When she was finished, he pulled her from her sitting position down on the mattress and covered her. He spoke into her ear, telling her she was loved and protected, and Frank or anyone else would never touch her in anger again. His kisses were love affirming becoming heated and passionate causing her to pant.

Claire was trying to get his shirt off and panting in his ear when the voice of reason took over in his head. You will love her, tell her you will always be there for her, make her feel safe, and then break her heart like everyone else in her life. The lovemaking came to a crashing halt and Jamie looked like he had been kicked in the head.

“Sassenach, I…I’m sorry love. I’m too much in my head, I can’t right now. I’m sorry.”

“You are here in the flesh Jamie. You took a leap of faith and came on this trip with me. Your hands are still warm, and your heart is still open. That’s what I want. There is time for us to find our way.

He hugged her for over a minute, trying to come to terms with his reality. He had, at the most, six weeks of freedom left, and he needed to find a way to tell her. Claire suggested a hot shower and sleep and he agreed.

[unholyplumpprincess]

A Week Makes Me Weak

A commission for @fyeahnix tysm again for letting me write the gals!!!

Summary: In which Anita goes on a Girl’s Trip with Ramya to Gaea for the week, leaving her girlfriend at home who misses her all week. Hours before she’s coming home, Wraith sends scandalous images of herself and Anita can’t help herself. With promises of being tied down and fucked raw, can you really blame Anita for wanting to rush home?

Reblogs > Likes (Reblog if ya hit Like!) Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked. Have your age in your bio.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bangalore/Wraith

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Wraith has a big clit and body mods, Bottom Bangalore rights, hand around throat/mild choking, monster dildo/it’s a dragon strap on!, scent kink bc Wraith is a lil nasty, lots of praise! They’re in love Harold

Words: 5.9k

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A quick ’Girls trip’.

That’s what Anita had said when she explained to Wraith what she had planned for this hiatus. Wraith didn’t mind, of course, Anita had friends and that friend this time just so happened to be Ramya, who had business still in Gaea. Wraith could appreciate that, having unfinished business. That is…if she could even remember what business she might have had in the past. Something always felt unfinished, something amiss, but regardless of that feeling she had told Anita that she hoped it wasn’t anything stressful. That her flight went great and that she’d uh…

She’d miss her.

Wraith had admitted that with a soft embarrassed look in her eyes and Anita’s warm, calloused fingers tucking Wraith’s hair behind her pierced ear fondly. It was no surprise that Anita slept better with Wraith at her side, and that Wraith even got a wink of sleep with Anita tucked against her. It was only a week, Anita promised, just a week to go finish some stuff up and provide Ramya company she deserved and needed. Especially going back to a location that could bring up some not so fond memories.

Wraith couldn’t help but to tease Anita a little. Her arms enveloping her girlfriend and Anita’s chin tucking atop her head. “Who’s going to stop you from rolling off the bed, Sarge?

“I’ll stack up a pillow or two to substitute you- even add an ice pack just to make it authentic, Ghostie.” Anita teases back, pressing her lips to the top of Wraith’s head and letting her arms drape over her, rubbing her back soothingly. A smile forms on her full lips when she feels the soft shakes of Wraith’s laughter, jumping when her cold fingers slide under Anita’s shirt as if to make a point of her cold body. Resulting in a pinch on her ass that makes Wraith jump.

~Rest under the cut~

That had been six days ago. Only six, Wraith kept trying to tell herself, even when by the second day she started to feel a bit lonely. That was ridiculous, she thought. It’s not as if Anita was the only person in her life. But, to be fair, Wraith had only felt the loneliness settle in when she’d climbed into bed that night and rolled over to wrap her arms around Anita and found the empty space. A frown had tugged her lips, wrapping her limbs around a pillow instead and not getting even a moment’s rest that night.

That’s when the nightly calls occurred, just to allow them both that peace of mind.

Gaea was a few hours behind in comparison to where the compound was stationed in Solace, which made nightly calls only a bit difficult when Anita would realize Wraith still sounded wide awake at 3am. When at 10 pm on Anita’s end already had her eyelids heavy and ready for rest. Thankfully talking to her was enough to soothe Wraith and she could only hope that in turn Anita felt the same.

Anita always updated her on what’s happening over there. Ramya’s workshop was no longer up, burnt down completely in the fire, but there had been some scraps able to be recovered in the rubble. Nothing that could be used to pristine perfection for weaponry, according to Ramya, but some scraps to sell were better than having nothing. This whole trip was important for her, and Anita was there for moral support and to plan out for Ramya’s full, permanent stay into the compound. She’d already gotten bits and pieces of her workshop settled down.

Wraith busies herself at home on her own hiatus. Natalie stayed behind most times when it came to breaks between matches, she always said she liked it better in the compound. Wraith finds company with her, tagging along with Natalie when she wanted to go shopping or sit down at a café for a treat. They look like polar opposites next to each other even out and about, Wraith notes. How Natalie wears her sweet dresses and screams pastel energy, whilst Wraith wore darker clothing and leathers.

Anita gets the pleasure of receiving texts from Natalie of images of her girlfriend in candid photos, as well as selfies between the two of them. Normally fit with Natalie beaming and doing a peace sign and Wraith clearly talked into it, her own pierced tongue out and a weak peace sign to show her chipped black nail polish.

That was something Wraith had been certain to make happen. Natalie had been her closest friend since she’d arrived, and she wanted to make sure both her girlfriend and best friend got along. At first, Anita hadn’t been too keen on interacting, antisocial in her own manner, but Natalie’s jokes and openness to discuss boundaries had won her over.

Spending time with her best friend certainly helped Wraith at least get a few winks of rest in. Sometimes her mind got too loud, everything became too much and she felt overloaded. She supposes she was spoiled by Anita, able to bury herself into her chest and have Anita hum or just talk to drown out the sound. Her low voice always made her chest rumble pleasantly against Wraith’s cheek, the loud frantic questions and various lives quieting down when she could focus on the story Anita had to tell. Normally of her family, of old family gatherings or grand pranks she’d pull with her brothers.  

Or promises of how one day, Anita would take her home and she’d be given a proper Williams welcome. She always told Wraith her mama would love her, something about that always made Wraith feel at ease, despite her quiet worry of how she could come off. Didn’t help with what certain others would call her. Wraith just had to remind herself she wasn’t a punch line, but a person, and her own experiences and fears were real.

Just as Anita’s were, where she could come off to others as angry. She had her own heartbreaks to share, her own PTSD to fuss over. Wraith had only caught her crying once, watching Anita flick the tears away and steady her voice when she saw Wraith. Steadying herself in what must have been years of practice. She’d never allowed herself to break down in front of anyone, trying to save face. That’s where their communication had strengthened. Where when Wraith needed her on her mind’s loudest days, and where Anita could cry into her chest without fear of being ever seen as weak or different.

Taking care of Anita was one of Wraith’s favorite things to do. Anita was still getting used to that all, so used to being the one who took care of others since she could remember. Even when Wraith had made it clear to Anita, fit with sitting her down and telling her to her face she wanted to take care of her and to help her take weight off her shoulders, Anita had been nervous.

Wraith was still adamant on it. Including very much in the bedroom where Anita felt like she would have to take charge, a lot of times Wraith would shove her back down. Climb into her lap and hold a hand around her throat and remind Anita who was in charge. Normally fit with Wraith crooning things like, ‘Let me take care of you, baby.’ or ‘Don’t think you can push me around this time’, all whilst watching Anita squirm with red cheeks and huffing.

That was something Wraith adored doing was making Anita blush. No one knew just how quietly flirty Wraith could be, only the slightest of hints in public. She’s sure only someone with a keen eye or knew her well would notice. Like Natalie or Bloodhound. Natalie would always giggle under her breath if Wraith passed by Anita, only her fingers skimming across her lower back when she passed by. The slightest of touches always making Anita stand up straighter and her voice a little breathier to whoever she was chatting with.

That was one of the things Wraith didn’t expect to miss so terribly with Anita gone. How she laid in bed most nights and thought of just reaching over and touching her. To hear that smoky voice sigh and mewl under her touches or to see her throw her head back with teeth marks and bruises lining the column of it. Wraith hadn’t expected to like sex as much as she did, or maybe it was just because of how unfairly attractive her girlfriend was.

The way she smiles could light up a room.

Her laughter makes our chest rumble with how deep it is.

The way she fusses with her curls in the morning.

When she calls us pet names it makes us happy-

When she moans it makes us happy–

Regardless, that’s where Wraith’s mind wanders while Anita is gone.

All. All of her mind.

It didn’t help that Wraith also didn’t like to masturbate. She had the tools to do it, they had plenty of toys together, it should have been simple to just grab a vibrator and go at it. But Wraith didn’t like the action, not without something to look at or listen to- or even, hell, perform for Anita. The action wasn’t satisfying, even if orgasm was brought. Leading her to daydream about Anita and gather more and more fantasies. They were also helped and fueled by the shirt Anita had left behind on the floor when changing, smelling of her scent and sweat and making Wraith sigh whenever she buried her nose into it.

During this time, Wraith had felt like her desperation had gotten a little high, leading her to masturbation even without Anita like she normally liked. It was making her dizzy, only making Wraith wind herself up tighter each time she had her hands on herself and imagined Anita instead. Imagining even her lips or her voice had her clit throbbing.

Fuck, she missed her.

Thank whatever Maker was out there that Anita would be on her way home on the flight in a few hours, it would take her a total of six to reach back to Solace. Wraith was now lying in bed, texting Anita and figuring she’d at least try and get her attention. It looked like Anita was busy, obviously of course, she must be wrapping some things up with Ramya. That doesn’t mean that Wraith doesn’t want to tease and start something up, however.

‘Do you want to go right to bed when you get home?’ Wraith texts, waiting for a reply which takes up to ten minutes. It’s a quick response of ‘nah’ in turn, no further details like Anita normally liked to give.

Wraith hums, lying her head back on the pillow and her phone on her chest as she considers. She wasn’t usually so…needy for attention. But she knew Anita would be on her way home soon, and now she knew Anita didn’t plan on sleeping. Through texts they’d both hinted at missing each other, Wraith being more straight forward in her sexual interests in those texts.

What would get Anita’s attention now? It’s not as if Wraith could just do something sexual to her from here–

A quick glance down at her body’s state of dress of Anita’s huge black hoodie with the Apex symbol in white over the right breast and her pair of black boyshorts makes Wraith pause. Anita always liked her in a half state of dress, always whining behind her and kissing up Wraith’s neck, her warm fingers sliding under her clothing. It always made Wraith feel so adored, so wanted. And now, she can’t help but give a crooked smirk at herself.

That was certainly one way to get your girlfriend’s attention.

Natalie had been the one to introduce Wraith to the concept of selfies. She’d said it was a great way to monitor progress, using her own transition as an example. And telling Wraith that it could help her remember things and see her growth. Since then, Wraith has been mindful to take selfies and pictures of important moments. Nudes, however, would be new on her list of trying.

Wraith moves into action, setting up her phone to snap a few pictures and sending a few to Anita.

What she doesn’t see is how Anita, in turn, is in her hotel room with Ramya who is casually leaned against a wall and chatting. Anita is being polite, listening with her phone in her lap on her bed and adding to the conversation here and there where it could be. But when she feels her phone buzz not once, not twice, but three times she picks it up to check the texts really quick. Normally Wraith didn’t double text, so a triple was concerning.

Only to open the chat box and the first thing she sees is Wraith lying on her back in bed, hoodie pulled up to cover the lower half of her face and show off her pierced breasts, soft tummy with her navel piercing and the light happy trail. She’s got half lidded eyes, one strong, plush leg with dark hair crossed over the other and the text ‘Miss you’ right underneath.

Anita can’t even look at the others just yet, her cheeks heating up and standing up abruptly mid-conversation. “Yeah, yeah, I agree with you on that. Hey, uh, it’s gettin’ real late, dontcha think?”

Ramya gives her a quizzical look, quirking a notched brow and looking her over. “Ya gettin’ old on me, ‘Nita? Look atcha! Fit as a fiddle, and you’re telling me you’re already bloody tired?” It’s a tease, gesturing over Anita’s form as if making her point.

“Hey, we had a long day and we have a flight to catch in a few hours. Don’t blame me for wanting to catch a few winks before we head back home. Some of us have a gal waiting at home for us.” Anita playfully pokes back, standing up to usher Ramya out of the room who makes a whip sound that makes Anita roll her eyes dramatically huge. The second she’s out, the door is shut, locked and Anita is practically running to her phone. Feeling more like a high school girl than a woman in her 30’s.

The other two photos she sees is one where Wraith is lying on her side, her curves more accentuated and two of her fingers in her mouth, presses down on her tongue to show the glisten of her tongue piercing and a light amount of drool. Her eyes are once again half lidded, milky white and her breasts exposed still. Anita moans low in her throat, running a hand through her curls and feeling her own mouth water. Wanting to get her mouth on her breasts like Wraith liked and dig her fingers into her hips to hump against her shamelessly.

The next one is more scandalous. Her panties have been ditched; The angle lower with her soft thighs spread open to reveal the dark, soft hair on her cunt. How her fat clit peeks from her lower lips glistening with slick sticking to her inner lips and making Anita practically whimper at the sight. She could already taste and smell her all the way from here, practically hearing how Wraith would breathily tell her what a good girl she was-

“Shit-” Anita hisses under her breath, rolling her hips into nothing and having to reach down to grope herself through her tactical pants just to apply pressure with her palm. Everything in her throbbed, already aching to be home to feel Wraith’s cold fingers tug at her hair and show her what she’s been missing. Where she’s been wanting her.

There’s a scramble to kick off her boots as she hits Call next to Wraith’s name, consisting of a ghost and heart emoji. If Wraith could see her practically bouncing on one leg to rip off her shoes and pants, she’d probably never let her hear the end of it. But when your girl shows off her cute cunt and soft thighs, do you really have any other choice than to make a fool of yourself?

“Hey, baby,” Is heard on the phone and Anita’s heart pounds as she lies in bed, left in her loose tanktop and her underwear, her pants successfully kicked off. “Thought you were busy.” Wraith’s voice is a low tease, already making Anita throb as her eyes flutter and a flustered chuckle comes from her chest.

“I was. Someone was just impatient.”  

“You don’t sound too patient yourself there, sweetheart.” Wraith’s voice practically coos in Anita’s ear, catching onto her breathiness. Anita flushes, her hand already down the front of her boxer briefs, her thighs parted and idly petting over her lower lips. Ghosting pressure across the hood of her clit.

“When a pretty thing like you sends pictures of herself all open and taunting me when she knows I can’t taste her right now- maybe you’d lose some patience too, Ghostie.” Anita huffs back, gripping her phone a little tighter when she hears Wraith’s soft, breathy chuckle. It was a rarity for Wraith to touch herself- Anita is dizzy off the mental images dancing in her head of what she could look like right now. So wet, soft thighs parted, her fat clit just begging to be licked.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” Wraith starts, allowing Anita to hear the hitch in her breath that already has Anita circling her clit with two fingers and biting her lower lip. ”Think a week is too long to not have you here. I’ve been missing waking you up by eating that sweet little cunt, baby. Been thinking about getting my hands on you the second you come home- just want to taste you. Wanna make you feel good. Miss your hands on me.”

Anita’s face is flushed, arching into her own touch as her other hand squeezes a bit tighter around her phone. Her mouth feels dry, imagining how the piercing on Wraith’s tongue felt every time it teasingly flicked over the tip of her clit with a curl of her tongue. “Y-yeah- a week is too long. Been missin’ ya over here, too.” Anita manages to breathe out, applying a bit more pressure on her clit as she circles it.

“You left a shirt here,” Wraith sighs into the phone, a slight sound of something brushing against the phone that Anita can only guess is said shirt. Especially when she hears an inhale that makes her ears burn. Wraith had a thing about scents, especially whenever Anita came home from the gym. “Wish it was your panties instead.”

“Fuck, baby-” Anita hisses out, humping against her hand and letting her head toss back to expose her neck to nobody. If Wraith were here, she’d certainly latch on, leave bruises with her teeth and lips like promised.

“Wonder if Elliott will want to have a get together when you get home. Think I could- ah- convince you to fuck me in the bathroom? You could wear your cock under your clothes, only we would know. Maybe I’ll let you fuck my face after, taste your cunt and let you steal my breath. Wouldn’t you like that, baby? Haven’t you been itching to be my good girl?” Wraith’s voice is a breathy tease in her ear, not giving Anita even an inch to let her mind settle.

She’s practically frantic in how her fingers circle her clit, rubbing herself back and forth and her eyebrows pinching together. She’s sure she’s whining into the phone right now, only matching Wraith’s hitched breaths and sighs.

Anita can imagine that as clear as day. Wraith on her knees, looking up at her under her lashes whilst Anita fists her hair and humps against her mouth. Imagining that look Wraith always got, where she’d be moaning through her nose and clawing at Anita’s hips, guiding her on how to fuck her face and taking that control that made Anita shiver with arousal.

A moan buzzes through the phone and Anita whimpers as her clit twitches. Feeling herself getting closer, even more so when Wraith sighs into the phone, “I want to tie you to a chair when you get home. Want to show you what you’ve been missing being so goddamn far. I’ll spread my legs open for you, fuck myself right in front of you and you’ll have to beg and beg just to even get the pleasure of seeing me cum.”

That does it for Anita, a cry leaving her lips of a swear as she cums. Frantic to hump up against her fingers as they stutter around her clit. Wraith doesn’t seem too far behind, a beautiful little shaky sigh heard in the phone and a low groan as she must have cum herself.

The cool down is fit with them being soft to one another. Soft murmurs of missing the other as they both clean up, Anita promising that Wraith could have whatever she wanted when she got home. Fit with a little nervous chuckle of, “Just try not to kill me with your sexual appetite. I can only take so many rounds.”

To which Wraith had softly laughed in turn, the sound of her flopping onto the bed followed by her low voice. “You’ll go as many rounds as I want, sweetheart. And you’ll say thank you after each one.”

When they both get off the phone after Anita’s yawning, Wraith quickly sets up to clean around her room. Making sure the sheets are swapped with clean ones, water is in the fridge and some of Anita’s favorite snacks. Wraith doesn’t even bother getting anymore dressed, the same hoodie with different panties since her other ones got soaked. She tries to lie in bed and settle down, but that inevitably doesn’t work when Anita texts her a few hours later to let her know she’s on her flight home.

By the time Wraith hears the keypad outside and Anita’s stepping in, she hardly gets to set down her bag before Wraith is pouncing on her. She’s quickly caught, hands under her ass and her legs around Anita’s waist, arms around her neck as Anita laughs breathlessly. “Woah, woah, missed you too, baby.”

But Anita’s breath is quickly stolen from her when cold fingers are cupping her cheeks, her dark eyes being guided to look into Wraith’s milky white ones. There’s a moment passing between them when Wraith leans in, brushing their noses together and Anita’s breath catching. Squeezing under her soft thighs and groaning lightly under her breath. Her breath hitches when Wraith’s pierced tongue flicks cheekily over her lips, curling upwards with her eyes half lidded and watching as Anita’s lips part open in anticipation.

“Take us to the bedroom. I want you to strip for me. I’m sure you can follow those simple orders, right?” Her voice is low, her cold breath fanning across Anita’s full lips that pull into a small smirk at her teasing. When Anita leans in to kiss her, Wraith leans back, a smile playing on her lips and her eyes dancing with amusement. “Already disobeying, sweetheart?”

A groan leaves Anita, but she obeys, marching dutifully towards the bedroom. Wraith is sat down on the edge of the bed, hungrily watching Anita take a few steps back. Anita notes the chair a few feet from the bed with rope already ready. Her cheeks flush as she shrugs out of her flannel, pulling her tank top up and over her head with her sports bra. Feeling Wraith’s hungry gaze and hearing her sigh at the sight of her upper body exposed. “Beautiful.”

Anita’s cheeks flush at the praise, shakily exhaling as she pulls her belt from its loops. Her boots and socks are kicked off, working out of her tactical pants nice and slow just to make Wraith growl in impatience. Anita knew she’d get it for that, but she couldn’t help it when she peeks up to see how Wraith’s watching her so intently.

When she’s stripped, Wraith is guiding her to sit back into the chair. Anita sits obediently as ever, her arms tied to the arms of the chair and her legs tied spread apart to the legs of the chair. She’s left exposed like this, reminded of it when Wraith stands in front of her, moving onto her lap and making Anita whimper with her desire to grab her. Instead, Wraith grabs her jaw, tipping her chin up to look up at her. “Show me your tongue.”

Anita blushes, heat curling down her spine as she obeys and lets her tongue loll out. Hearing the blessed words of, ”Good girl.” That send a moan tumbling from her lips just as Wraith kisses her, meeting tongue first. Anita’s hips try to come up to press into her to no avail, another moan leaving her when Wraith grips her jaw a bit tighter, licking over her tongue in slow, languid swipes as if tasting her.

Anita’s hips are rocking up into the pressure of Wraith in her lap without thinking, not getting anywhere with it but able to hear how her girlfriend sighs in arousal into her mouth. Anita mimics the sound when Wraith pulls back, her eyes unfocused but a whine arising from her lips when pressure is gone from her lap and Wraith is moving back towards the bed, picking something up off the floor on her way. “Baby- c’mon, not with your teasing already-”

“I told you what I wanted to do to you when you came back.” Wraith only hums back, her panties flicked at Anita and landing in her lap where Anita’s eyes follow. Swallowing thickly at the sight of the undergarment and the wet spot on the front, wanting so badly to somehow lift and bury her face into it. But her gaze quickly raises to look at Wraith who is leaned back on one arm, legs spread open, her hoodie pulled up and above her chest. Anita’s panties in one hand.

Anita moans at the sight of her so wet. Her large clit already engorged and peeking so sweetly from her lower lips and she wants nothing more than to lick the slick from her cunt. Especially when Wraith reaches down to spread herself open. Anita also notices her black nail polish freshly applied and yet to be chipped, she can’t help but smile at the idea of Wraith applying it before she came home just to look a bit ‘nicer’ for her. The little things.

“You’re smiling,” Wraith notes aloud, rolling her head to the side in a tilt as her fingers trace from her hole up to just beneath her clit with a shudder. “Something on your mind?”

“Just noticed you repainted your nails is all.”

“You’re more focused on my nails than my pussy out on display right now?”

The look on Wraith’s face of amusement is what makes Anita break, laughing with a smile bursting across her face and dimples creasing her cheeks in that way that made Wraith’s heart pound. Even with her bound and nude, Wraith still can’t help but softly smile back, rolling her eyes and helping bring the situation back.

It’s not hard when Wraith rubs her clit in circles for Anita, making sure she’s watching as the laughter turns to soft, wanting sighs instead. Soft sounds leave Wraith’s own lips, getting off on the way Anita’s eyes trace over her body and her hips roll into nothing to match Wraith’s own speed of touching herself. A moan downright leaves Anita’s lips when Wraith brings her panties to her face, inhaling her scent and sighing with an arch of her back. “Missed your scent so much. Might just have to keep you tied up all night, baby. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind cumming on my tongue alone for a few hours.”

Anita groans, her head falling back but her eyes never leaving Wraith. Watching when she sets the panties down, reaching somewhere behind her until she finds a round bullet vibrator. She flicks it on, drawing it over her inner lips with her soft thighs quivering beautifully whenever it runs over her clit. Anita moans low in her throat in desire when she watches the silver bullet disappear into Wraith’s cunt, the cord and the dial being the only thing sticking out of her.

Wraith’s sounds are soft and wanting, keeping eye contact with half lidded eyes as her body trembles and her fingers circle her large clit. Carefully jerking it off by sandwiching it between her thumb and forefinger.

Anita can’t help the way her hips hump up into nothing at the same time Wraith jerks herself off. Each rise of her hips allowing Wraith to see the slick sticking to the chair in little strands, near about drooling at the sight of it alone and feeling a pulse of heat down her spine.

Fuck her.

Spread her open, make her cry underneath you.

Wouldn’t she look so cute filled with cum?

She’s ours.

Ours-

Wraith’s eyes are milky white with everyone chiming in at once as she looks over Anita, her eyebrows knitting as she starts to vocalize what she’s thinking of doing to her. Her voice shaking with little gasps between words. “I want to take care of you, baby, want to ruin you and see you cry f-for me. Do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart? You’re so wet, I can- ah- see it from h-here-”

By the time Wraith’s cumming, Anita’s a mess. Whimpering and straining on her bonds, her lips babbling pleads that bubble down to ‘please’s and caught between wanting to get fucked and wanting to taste Wraith. Wraith debates on leaving her tied up, just using her like that to her heart’s content, but she ends up untying her and being caught in a hungry kiss. Wraith is the one being guided back onto the bed, but Anita is quickly flipped. Shushed gently before teeth sink into her throat.

Wraith sucks dark hickeys up her neck, biting down her shoulders and collarbones where Anita swears when she gets her cold mouth over a nipple. Lightly biting over it and leaving her mark surrounding the areola, her pierced tongue leaves a trail down Anita’s abdomen, kissing over her hips and down lower and lower. Until Anita’s fisting her fingers in her hair when Wraith’s mouth finally gets on her cunt.

The temperature difference is always a shock, but that soft laughter soon turns to moaning when Wraith noses her way against her. One arm hooks under Anita’s thigh, pulling it up so she can focus her mouth on her clit. Her other hand sliding underneath her to fit two fingers inside of her wet sex with the sort of ease that makes Wraith hiss at how slick she is. She takes care of Anita like this, whose fingers fist into Wraith’s hair as she licks and suckles at her. Fingers twisting and curling upwards until she’s spread out enough for a third that she clenches harshly down on.

Her first orgasm is fit with her hips pressing up into Wraith’s mouth, her hands fisting her hair to keep her still. The way her body jerks and cries leave her lips is like a drug to Wraith, looking up at her to see Anita biting her bottom lip and her brows knitted when Wraith’s fingers still keep pumping into her. Never stilling as her tongue flicks against her sensitive clit to rock her through it and then her second one.

By the time Anita’s nice and loose, dripping wet and left on the bed rocking her hips into nothing, Wraith takes the time to fit her harness on. A more dragon-styled one with a black and dark red marbling, the tip tapered and almost sharp with ribs going down below it to a flared base that acted as a small knot. The girth of it big enough to be unable to circle your fingers around it in one hand, and the length being a total of seven inches.

The length is lubed up generously despite Anita being wet enough she probably doesn’t need it. Wraith fits between her thighs, hitching them around her waist as she slowly sinks the cock into her girlfriend. Immediately, Anita’s head tosses to the side to reveal the bruises and bite marks along her skin, her eyes near about rolling into the back of her head when Wraith bottoms out into her.

“Look at you. So beautiful covered in my marks. Do you like being mine, sweetheart?” Wraith sighs out, feeling how Anita’s hips twitch upwards at the praise. One of her hands holds up under Anita’s thigh, the other resting around her throat without choking, just holding her to feel how Anita’s breath hitches. Her hips start thrusting into her, starting with small humps and building them up until Anita’s body is rocking. One of Anita’s hands comes up, loosely gripping around Wraith’s wrist and squeezing as they lock eyes.

Anita’s eyes are half lidded, the lighting in the room making her freckles stand out even more on her dark skin. Her dimples show their existence when she flickers a lazy smile up at Wraith, her lips forming a swear but no sound following it besides a whine. Wraith’s heart twists in her chest, so many different lives pleading and begging their own poetic symphonies of their love for Anita. How much she meant to Wraith, how she would kill for Anita in a heartbeat if it meant that smile stayed.

Wraith’s hips have started fucking into her harder without thinking. Gripping her thigh a little tighter and digging her blunt nails in when Anita’s body starts to tremble again. “There you go, baby, go ahead. Cum on my cock. You’re so beautiful, so pretty, my pretty baby girl.” Wraith is spilling out praise after praise, sending Anita over the edge with a guttural cry. It’s quickly muffled by Wraith leaning down to kiss her, catching her in the open-mouthed kiss and swallowing every gasp and moan she releases until Wraith stills her hips. Cock buried deep inside her.

Once Anita is calmed down with a few more kisses, cleanup is to be had as Wraith slips out of her carefully. The toy is washed and she returns in just her hoodie with a wash cloth, cleaning up the sticky, wet mess between Anita’s thighs with soft kisses pressed over her abdomen and hips. Anita rewards her, fingers lazily brushing through her hair and tucking dark strands behind Wraith’s pierced ears. Soft words are exchanged before Wraith goes and cleans everything else up and grabs water. Returning with a dark chocolate bar and some pretzels that makes Anita beam when she sees them.

“My favorite snacks? What, are you trying to go for round four, baby?” She teases, letting Wraith hand them to her and climb into bed next to her. Her arms wind around Anita’s waist, burying herself into her chest and pulling the blankets over them both. She makes a negative sound, inhaling Anita’s scent and sighing softly.

“Just wanted to make sure you were spoiled a bit. And as an apology.”

“An apology for what, Ghostie?” Anita hums, taking a square of her chocolate and stroking her fingers through Wraith’s hair.

“For what I’m going to be doing to you all week in this bedroom.”

They both agree that night, later when they’re intertwined in each other’s bodies.

A week was far too long.

[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH31

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,782

- Author Note: Happy new year! the beginning of the year has always been crazy, hahaha sorry for late update~ my goals are still similar, to finish posting BTS caretaker before 2021 endss. stay safe everyone <3

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Chapter 31

“Nuna!” Hoon announced while making his way inside the shop with a bright smile. “You seem happy” Seul popped out behind the counter with a huge smile. Wongeun looked at Hoon quizzically, from the corner of his eyes he caught a glimpse of giggly high schoolers swooning over the young man in front of him.

He let out a small chuckle “Someone earns bunch of fangirls” Seul followed his gaze and cringed instantly at the sight.

“What is so good about Hoon?” she slanted a look his ways and found him frowning as he gazed up Seul’s face. His eyes narrowed as he sneered sarcastically “Do I need to remind you I appeared in a show which is insanely famous with bunch of other good-looking men on planet. Technically, I am a celebrity now” Wongeun stared at him in amazement, more like because of Hoon’s confidence.

“Celebrity my foot. The only good-looking about you is your smart brain. Drinks?” she repressed her giggle watching the younger guy pulled a long face, looking petulant. “Mango smoothies. Your treat” he trailed off to his seat before his sister could protest.

Wongeun nudged her, laughing heartily “I wonder where he got that attitude, he is a male version of you” she had a dissatisfied look on her face, and he couldn’t stop teasing her until she had enough. Seul ditched Wongeun and prepared Hoon’s drink as she was excited to hear the good news from him.

She prepared the drink with extra care and love knowing how things had changed between them. These days had been nothing but rainbows. Hoon opened up to her more, and they learned how to respect each other. That was more than enough to foster this relationship.

“Boo!” Hwasa came up behind her unannounced with hope to startle the girl, but only to get twisted on ears by Seul. “Ow, Ji Seul! You, horrible woman” she swatted her hand, rubbing her ears with a slight pout.

“That is what you get for fooling around like a kid. Why are you late today?” she pressed.

“There you go acting like a mom. I had to submit my final project. I will take over the night shift today, so you can head back early to meet your oppas” she was teasing Seul, wiggling her brows up and down.

Seul rolled her eyes at her “Meet my my oppas” she mirrored her making the latter to throw a nasty glare. “The only oppas that I approve is Jeon Jungkook, have you made up your mind yet?” Hwasa’s question paused her beating heart. It continued to pump not long after a little quicker and wilder than earlier. She was affected by it though she tried her best to get used to the fact that there were men lined up behind her.

Clearing her dry throat, she placed the drink on the tray along with a plate of brownies. She avoided her best friend wary glance, just when she thought Hwasa finally took her discomfort seriously, the girl spoke up again. “Lucky woman. You have Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around your little finger. You are basically living the dreams of every girl on planet” she pursed her lips.

“You don’t need to emphasize my small fingers. Gosh, if and only you know how hard it is to deal with those hormonal men” Hwasa choke up as her ears caught the last phrase clearly. She let out a high pitch squeal surprising everyone in the shop. Panickily, Seul covered her loud mouth with her hand hushing her down.

Hwasa was exaggerating her reaction which annoyed the hell out of her, “Oh my god, what do you mean by hormonal men? What did they do to you?” her voice was muffled underneath Seul’s palm. She pulled away her hand, glaring at her best friend signalling her to stop asking questions. To her dismay, questions after questions came from her without stop.

“Did you do it with any of the members?”

“If yes then who?”

“Goodness! Could it be Min Yoongi! I knew it since he is the most aggressive one!”

“Wait-Wait could it be Jeon Jungkook? He may be innocent, but I wonder what is hidden under those shirt”

Seul’s cheeks reddened like a ripe tomato as Hwasa continued to harass her mind with those wild imagination “Yah! It is not like what you think. Stop stop, I am getting dizzy. This is not working. Our conversation ends right now. Cover for me, I need to talk to Hoon” she shook her head and flee from the scene before her precious best friend explored another topic to annoy her.

Hwasa gawked in disbelief watching the girl disappeared from her sight without giving her any answers.

 --------------

“Guess what!” he clasped his hand, resting his elbows on the table. Seul scrutinized his face with a questionable look “You got dumped by a girl?” he reached out and flicked her forehead earning a nasty scowl from the girl.

Hoon frowned “No, you silly! Remember I went for an audition today?” he chortled excitedly.

“So, you got kicked out before you could even open your dirty mouth?” she joked.

Gasping dramatically, he placed a hand over his chest as if he just got shot by a bullet “Of course not meanie! I got in. Well, not officially as a trainee but I passed the first and second stage. Next month, I will be meeting them again for the final stage” Seul smiled fondly at her brother. He continued to share his story and his face lit up with a bright smile.

Just seeing the smile on his face was enough to keep her satisfied for the rest of her life. Hoon’s happiness meant the world to her. “Are you happy Hoon-ah?” he nodded without any hesitation.

“Then that is enough. As long as you are happy, I will always be with you. I promise..” she brightens her smile, grasping his hand in hers.

His large hand began stroking hers “Thank you nuna for having a faith in me. I will not waste this opportunity and make you and mother proud! Oh, by the time I become a big star like BTS, I am hiring you as my personal caretaker. You can quit your job at BTS” he cracked a silly grin.

“I am so not babysitting you Ji Hoon! Ew, that sounds torturous and hellish” she cringed at the thought.

“It is not that bad. I am your brother, so it is better to look after your own flesh rather than strangers. Wait, don’t tell me you are dating one of the members since you seem reluctant to leave them?” his eyes bore into hers, mentally judging his sister.

“Are you here to pick a fight? Don’t you dare to have those wicked ideas in your head. Now finish your drinks and brownies, I need to work” she whacked him on the back of his head making the latter to hiss in pain.

“What is that for?! I am stating the obvious! Just so you know I like someone dependable like Jin hyung or Namjoon hyung to look after a clumsy woman like you” rubbing his head, he pouted slightly.

Seul gritted his teeth “What is with everyone invading my personal life?! You and Hwasa need to mind your own business, my god. Give me a break will you!” she leaned back into the seat and squeezed her eyes.

She waggled at his direction, gesturing the innocent guy to leave “Don’t stay, you only bring more harm than good. I will pack your brownies and enjoy it at home instead. You’re giving me a major headache” she massaged her temples, groaning lowly.

“Yah you evil witch! I am still your customer. Should I report you to your manager?”

She rose out of her seat, shooting daggers at his way “You don’t even pay for your drinks. Get ready to leave, Ji Hoon-ssi” Hoon pursed his lips before muttering something just to annoy Seul again. “If you don’t want Jin hyung or Namjoon hyung. Yoongi hyung would suffice. He is a cool hyung.” she walloped his head again, cussing in her head.

“Ji Seul-ssi that is rude!”

“You deserve that”

 --------------

When the clock struck six, Seul’s shift ended and she was ready to meet the boys at their dorm. They spammed their group chat in the last two hours with tons of selfies and irrelevant messages just to get her attention. Scanning the messages briefly, she scoffed at their childishness and shoved her phone inside her sling bag.

She fixed her hair one last time before heading out, bidding farewell to her fellow colleagues. Wongeun who noticed her presence at the counter, stopped whatever he was doing and shifted his attention on her “Do you have to work again after this?” his eyes disappeared as he smiled.

“No, I am meeting my friend. Are you staying until the closing?” Wongeun pressed his lips, glancing at the round clock on the wall. “Seems like it. Our boss plans to pay a visit” her mouth agape in horror.

“Oppa! Why didn’t you tell me that our boss is coming? I can’t leave if he is planning to come. Would it be rude to leave since this is his first time visiting us?” out of habit, she chewed her nails and started to freak out.

Wongeun chuckled lightly “You are overreacting. That old man doesn’t even know who is working here, all he knows is the number of the employee. Don’t worry, your shift already ends. You don’t need to stay though. Enjoy your time with your friend” Seul stared at him suspiciously.

“But, what if he is not in a good mood and-“ the tall guy cut her off once again, chuckling softly. “That won’t happen, can you just leave peacefully and stop worrying about him” he said firmly.

Placing the dry dishes on the island, Hwasa nodded in agreement “We will handle him. Go and meet your oppas. They must be waiting!” Wongeun crossed his arms, gazing tenderly at Seul.

“Oppas? How many oppas that you have which isn’t me?” she let out a tired sigh, glaring at her best friend who had put her innocent façade. Sneaky woman.

“I am not going to have this talk again. Hwasa if I hear you spread another rumour about me, I will strangle you to death. It is a promise” she said, exchanging a hard stare with her. “I will see you guys tomorrow. Have fun meeting the boss. Take photos for me, bye!” she winked cheekily, making her way to the entrance.

Seul bumped into someone as she got close to the entrance and looked up into the stranger’s eyes. To her distaste, the stranger is not really a stranger at least to her. She remembered those eyes. Her mind and body froze suddenly. Every muscle in her body tightened as a flash of memories gushed in her mind. It was him.

She could tell his eyes flickered in amusement and confusion. He had aged since the last time she saw him. His face got thinner, there was an obvious wrinkled at the corner of his sharp eyes, but she remembered those cruel eyes. The evil eyes had thrusted into her iris causing her to squirm under his cold gaze.

Her face contorted in pain and disgust. She felt the need to escape from this place immediately, or else the horrible memories might come attacking her again. This time there’s no Jin’s kisses to save her.

His hands almost rested on her body but shield away before they could. He gazed at her with heavy eyes that gleamed darkly “It has been a long time” this man’s voice disgusted her and sent chills down her spine. How was it possible to meet him again after years?  

Seul clenched and unclenched her fists. Seul’s silent treatment caused him to frown in disapproval. He disliked her coldness and rudeness. “You never change, I can see..” he sneered with a smirk.

Fighting dizziness, she managed to get back her sense and walked pass the man avoiding his fiery gaze. The only thing matters right now was to escape from this evil man. She would not allow him to control her life or worse claiming her as his. Wongeun and Hwasa were left in daze as they watched her figure disappeared from their vicinity.

Realizing that he had been staring way too long at the older man, Wongeun gathered his thought and hurriedly welcoming the man, forcing a smile on his face “Good evening Sir” Hwasa eyes widened upon hearing the greetings. Her body automatically bended over into a deep bow mirroring Wongeun, showing respect to their employer.

The man moved his eyes down scrutinizing the young man before him as he finally straightened up “The young lady just now, is she one of the employee here?” his questions startled Wongeun.

“Yes, Sir! Ji Seul has been working here for two years. Please forgive her cold demeanour, she has no idea that you will be coming. And, she doesn’t know you are the owner” said Wongeun. He sounded like he’s pleading the old man to spare Seul’s life.

A small smirk edged the corners of his mouth “Interesting. Let’s get back to business. Bring out the annual report” he ordered.

 -------------------

7 Years Ago

Scanning the dark room, Seul squeezed the hot tears out in despair. She had tried to open the oak door using every ounce of her strength. Unfortunately, it came to no avail. There was no sign of Mr Kwon coming to mentally and physically tortured her today.

Every day was hell.

She suffered an intense psychological harassment, which drained her energy.

The cruel man would tie her up to the bedpost leaving her only in her undergarments. He would use different toys or equipment just to torture her. To see her body squirm and writhed under his touch was driving him up the walls. Even so, he had never go beyond the boundaries. As much as he wanted to take her in that manner, yet he had a better plan for the young girl.

He must make sure she’s ready to receive him.

He liked it raw and rough, so he cared of her ability to take him in fully one day.

And, that one day happened to be sooner than he thought.

He was satisfied with his work of art, Seul was not an easy girl but she handled the torture so well which made him even more eager to taste her.

Mr Kwon was not a normal paedophile but a sadist. He was sick in the head.

The sound of the door opening made her squirm in fear, she backed away, until her back hit the brick wall. She shuddered as she heard the faint footsteps approaching. Seul couldn’t feel her body anymore knowing what would happen to her in a minute.

The usual torture.

The usual pain.

She collected her knees to her chest, burying her face in her knees and started to bawl her eyes out. Screaming in her head, she wanted to push the old man away from her only with her powerful screaming. How she wished it worked that way?

The man kneeled in front of her, oddly he didn’t smell reek alcohol and tobacco. That was very unusual since she was used to his dirty scent. She could tell from few feet away with her eyes closed with a mere smell. This time around the person in front of her showed no sign of Mr Kwon’s signature smile and horrible breath.

“Hey..Are you alright?” at the sound of his voice, she lifted her head with an effort. Tilting her head confusedly, she stared at the individual in bafflement. He looked around his age with his cute bangs almost covering his eyes. For some reason, he gave away some kind of glowing aura that made her feel secured and safe.

The young boy spoke up once again garnering her attention “You are Seul right? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he reached out to touch her arms but watching her flinched and ducked away from his touch, he murmured a soft sorry.

“We have to get you out from here. Can you trust me?” she averted her gaze and shook her head like he expected.

He sighed softly “Look, Mr Kwon is my uncle. Yeah, I know I have a bastard uncle.  Hell, he is not even my real uncle but a week ago, I saw him brought you in. I thought he finally adopted a kid from the orphanage, but I was wrong. I..watched how he tortured you every day. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I planned to save you from this house. Trust me, I don’t like him either. If there is one person that you can trust in this house, then it is me. I will help you to escape” as soon as he began to talk of this, her lips trembled, and her tears began to fall.

“Seul.. please give me a chance. I can help you. I can help your mother and your brother. Your father won’t be able to bother you anymore”

Seul croaked “H-ow.. you find out about my family?” she shifted her gaze away from her afraid this was another way for the old man to fool her.

“Let’s just say. I.. pretty much spied on my uncle. I went through his office, I saw the contract that he made with your father. I knew about his money issues that he sold you in exchanged of freedom from his debt. I am sorry Seul that you have to suffer this way, but I am here to help. Trust me please. We don’t have much time..” he muttered desperately as he eyes darted at the door in case his evil uncled made an appearance there.

Seul bit her chapped lips, feeling remorseful at this sudden appearance of her knight and shining armour. She had nothing to lose anyway.

Reluctantly, she nodded weakly “Okay. Let’s go! He will be back in 10 minutes. I managed to distract him for a bit, so I can sneak in. Brace yourself this escape will be nasty” Seul blinked her eyes cluelessly watching him grabbing clothes from the closet.

He bended forwards and whispered “Can you stand?” she palmed the wall behind her for support as she pulled her strength to stand on her own feet. The latter flashed a quick smile and helped her to put the grey sweater on.

Reaching out to her hand, he interlaced their hand together. She flinched at the contact of their skin and looked up at him with a glint of hope. Their gaze locked, and he gave her an assuring smile “Let’s go Seul” Seul nodded obediently following his every step, exiting the dreadful room.

I will trust you. I will follow you. Seul chanted in her head encouraging herself to do this without regret.

 ------------------------------

Present Day

There was no text or call from Seul causing the boys to have cold feet. They had planned to watch movies together with Seul before they flew to Japan tomorrow. God knows when they will be able to meet her again once the tour starts.

Jimin had brilliantly suggested to have a movie marathon today and thankfully Seul didn’t have to serve her usual night shift.

8PM.

9PM.

12AM and there was no sign of Seul.

Tired of waiting, some of the boys ended up falling asleep on the couch whilst Jungkook stayed up waiting for her arrival.

He tried to reach her numerous times, yet it brought him straight to the voicemail. Yoongi sat up groggily and his eyes landed on Jungkook whom looking anxious at the corner “Any news from Seul?” his rough voice brought the maknae back to reality.

“Still can’t reach her” his lips emitted a heavy sigh.

Yoongi glanced at his phone “It is unusual for her to leave us hanging without a text. Don’t worry she will be fine gukkie, something must come up. Head to bed. It is late” he stretched a little, running his hand to his sore back.

Jungkook smiled meekly “Hyung, sleep in your room. I will clean this up and head to bed right after” he stood up from his seat with distressed face. Yoongi bid him a goodnight and went straight to his room though deep down inside he’s worried sick of Seul. The least that he could do was to be optimist about the whole thing. She is a strong lady, nothing would happen to her.

 Seul wandered aimlessly around the city dragging her soulless body to find peace. An escape from this awful reality is all she needed. Recollecting the memories back only to pain her even more and it reopened the wounds. She had somehow ended up in front of Bangtan’s apartment, with a single move she will be reunited with the seven sunshine.

It dawned on her, that she was in no place to burden them with her problems. They had enough things to deal in life. Her hand curled into a tight fist, as she turned her heels to leave the place right way.

This wasn’t right.

She shouldn’t come here.

She must go.

“Seul…I know you will come” she heard her name being called. Seul turned around to find the owner of the voice stood at the entrance handsomely in his oversized white tshirt. Just when she assumed her world was dark and loney, there were Jungkook presence radiating love and grace transported her to a higher place called, hope.

He closed their distant, looking at her confused “Seul.. Where were you? God, you are worrying us” Jungkook’s voice rang in her ears, weakened her knees. The young man noticed her puffy eyes, and his brows furrowed in concern.

Giving her no time to respond, he inquired “Have you been crying? What happened baby?” he reached his finger to caress her wet cheeks. Little did he know, his little action made her to cry her heart out again. This emotion is overpowering her. She couldn’t handle it.

His eyes rounded in sheer surprised, and like a reflex he wounded his arms around her tight, embracing the girl closely. “Baby, what is wrong” he whispered. Jungkook lower down to match his height with her, running his hand up and down on her back. He hummed softly to calm her down “I am here. It is alright” her body trembled due to the intensity.

Sera ran his finger to his chest, clutching onto his shirt listening to his beating heartbeat. They stayed like that for a while, embracing each other before Jungkook led her inside the apartment quietly. The couple reside in his room, while Jungkook went out to get a warm drink for Seul.

He came back few minutes a later with a cup of warm water which she gladly took and gulped it down in one shot. Jungkook chuckled lightly and place a gentle kiss on top of her head “Cute. Now mind telling me, what happened to you?” she looked down, feeling the sadness came creeping in again.

Jungkook took her small hands in his, as he stroked it affectionately “Look, I wont force you to tell me if you are not ready. But, I will always be here to listen to your worries. Tell me whenever you are ready. Don’t bear the pain alone, it is meant to be shared” he tucked the strand of hair behind her hears.

She looked sadly at him, and mumbled “Will you listen to me till the end? Will you promise me that you will never hate me?” the despair and sorrow in her eyes were evident making the latter to frown in his seat. Just what happened to her that she looked this soulless?

He pecked her lips, smiling genuinely “I promise I will listen to you till the end. It is impossible to hate you Seul, I am listening” he stroked her hair, admiring her feature. She took a deep breath before finally revealing the pain that she kept to herself for years. Seul spoke to no one about her dark past making Jungkook as the first outsider to know about it. Telling him this was not easy but seeing how Jungkook would listen attentively to her story, with unreadable expression, Seul mustered up her courage until she reached the end of it.

“I…am not the girl that you think I would be Jungkook”

There was a long pause and silence, a cold silence. Her stomach sank. Did Jungkook feel disgusted of her? Dread and fear saturated her sense.

“Scumbag..” he said it at last. “He’s a snobby old ratbag. How could he do that to a fifteen years old girl?! Fuck, if I get my hands on him. I will fucking kill him without mercy” all this time, she never heard Jungkook spouting some nasty remarks and it really scared her to see this side of him.

Seul embraced him out of fear, baffling the furious guy in process “I..dont want to be reminded with this memory. Now, that I met him again.. I am scared Jungkook.. I am scared” she buried her face in his shoulder, damping his shirt with her tears.

“I will protect you from him” he encircled one of his arm around her waist, holding her close to his body. “I vow to protect you, I won’t let him touch even a strand of your hair” his voice was soothing even the promises that he made convinced her that she had nothing to fear as long as Jungkook’s there for her.

“Thank you..” she rubbed her face in his shoulder, leaving a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. He sighed deeply, pulling away from the hug, resting his forehead against her “You have me. No matter what happen, I will never leave you in the dark, baby” he whispered romantically causing her face reddened.

Baby. She made a mental note that Jungkook had been calling her baby for the umpteenth time tonight.

He rubbed their nose together, smiling handsomely which melted her cold heart. Jungkook slowly smiled before leaning down to take her mouth in a soft kiss. It turned passionate as they let their emotions took over. He was ticked off that the old man ruined her life just to fulfil his rotten lust. His sense of responsibility towards Seul thickened. Security and love, that’s what he’s willing to provide for her.

They stopped moving and looked into each other’s eyes. He rubbed his nose up against hers, blowing wisps of hair from her eyes before he moved in again. Jungkook gave her waist a deep stroke and dropped his head forward, moving swiftly and capturing her bottom lips devouring her sweetness. This time the kisses were not slow, they were hard and hungry.

Their lips moved together, overlapping each other’s. He pushed her body lightly onto the soft mattress, as he hovered over her. Seul moaned into the kisses, pulling him closer to her desperate to feel his warmth all over her body again.

His hand roamed down to cup her bottoms, bringing her flush against him. They gasped softly, feeling their body burn up to the sensation. He inhaled her sweet scent and moved to kiss down her jaw as his hand sliding down to her throat, caressing the skin gently.

Jungkook trailed a string of kisses across her shoulder, and inched closer to her neck. Pressing a kiss to her neck, he brushed his lips down over her soft skin drinking in the sweet scent of her. She thought her heart exploded from this ministration.

Seul stroked his chest over the clothes, moving down to his obvious abs. His biceps flexed as she skimmed her hand beneath the shirt, rubbing his hard muscle in the most torturous way earning a low groan from the man. Warmth spread throughout her as he stripped her blouse away, pressing their heated body together.

He returned to love every inch of her skin.

Every tug of his mouth on her sensitive skin sent a sweet spike of pleasure in her.

Jungkook never thought being closed to a girl like this sent wild spiral of sensual magic through him. Watching how she wrecked with pleasure under him, made him wanted to love her all night.

He wanted to make her feel special.

He wanted her to himself.

He wanted her so desperately.

The darkness of the night was not the clean blackness but a thick darkness which swallowed the sound of their desperate grunts.

 This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2021. All Rights Reserved

[devilatmydoor]

love is fatal - part 11

a/n- sorry it took so long for this update- ideas were not flowing and neither were my words lol. i hope you like it, let me know if you want to be on the taglist & what you think!

previous chapters -  part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 

word count- 4.7k +

Warnings- swearing, ANGST, hints of smut & cigarette use

The powerful sound of music played in the background as she finished cleaning her room, she paused what was playing in hopes of Grayson returning. She had gotten used to him being gone even though she lived with him; some days it felt like Calum lived with her and Grayson was stopping by. She finished in her room as she walked down the hallway, sighing as Hershey was sleeping on the couch waiting for him to return home. She knew she didn’t need to know where he was all of the time but she wasn’t used to him being gone more often than not.

She set her phone down on the counter as she walked to the fridge to grab her leftover lasagna and took off the lid and set it in the microwave. She set it in the timer and grabbed a bottle of water before closing the fridge. Hershey woke up as she stretched walking towards her wagging her tail, she bent down to pet her as she waited for her food to be ready.

Once the timer went off she stood up straight as she grabbed it from the microwave, the warmth from the plastic shocked her as she set it down on the counter. She grabbed her phone and texted Calum.

She shook her head as she grabbed her fork and water bottle, she set her food down on the table in the living room. She grabbed her phone while Hershey followed her back into the living room. Turning the t.v on she switched to the Entertainment channel and smiled when her favorite reality show Botched was on, she hadn’t watched in a while and missed the show. She ate her dinner as Hershey begged for her food like she always did, she checked her phone to see if Grayson magically texted her his whereabouts. She finished her dinner and put the empty container with her fork in the sink before returning to the couch as she got fully immersed in Botched. Hershey climbed on the couch as she covered them both in her blanket as she got comfortable.

Finishing the last episode of Botched she looked at her watch to see it was past 2AM and she hadn’t heard from Grayson. She finished her skincare before returning to the living room in hopes of his return. She sat down next to Hershey who was passed out on the couch. She sighed as she went into her room and plugged in her phone before walking down the hallway and hearing the front door open.

Grayson's eyes met hers as she walked back into the living room, "Gray where have you been?"

"Out.”

"Gray are you aware of what time it is?" She pressed as she crossed her arms. "Are you aware you're not my mom?" He barked as he took off his shoes.

"What has gotten into you? Calum has been here more than you have and you live here." She argued

"And when you're not here you're at his place."

"But you always know where I am, I always text you and let you know" She pressed

"What's your point Ronnie?"

"I never know where you are and what's going on with you anymore.” She blurted as she leaned on the couch.

"Oh so now you care."

She wasn’t used to Grayson talking to her the way he was, she was used to them talking it out rather than arguing. Whenever he was like this, he was either cranky from lack of sleep or hanging out with someone she didn’t like which was usually his ex. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Ronnie it's too late for this, I need sleep.” He sighed as he threw his hands up.

"You should've thought about that before coming home this late" She shook her head.

"I was out with friends and I lost track of time. you do it all the time and it's totally fine but when I do it's a crime!" He argued

"That's not what I meant, I'm worried about you. You're never home anymore. What's going on?"

"What's going on is I ran into Jaiden, the day after midsummer's and he had a huge black eye from your boyfriend. You didn't even bother to tell me he was in town!" Grayson scolded as he shook his head.

"That's what this is about, Jaiden? Are you kidding right now gray? You hate him!" She argued as she rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't matter, I still should've known about him being in town and what happened at midsummer's!" He argued as he blinked repeatedly, a sure sign he was lying.

"Can this wait until I get some sleep?" She asked as she stood up straight.

“Fine.” He stormed off and she took a deep breath before exhaling.

___

The ambient sound of music playing in the background as her and Penelope shopped at Westfield Mall as part of their girls day, their first stop was always Abercrombie and Fitch, her niece's favorite.  “Where did you want to go to lunch?” She asked as she looked through clothes on the rack in front of her.

“I was thinking of Carmines, it’s been a while” Penelope mentioned as she grabbed a tank top.

“Oh it has been a while, let’s go there.” She expressed as she looked for a dress.

“I hope Jesse is working!” Penelope chirped as she grabbed hair scrunchies.

“Me too!” She smiled as she grabbed a red dress and showed her, “What do you think?”

“100% yes, Uncle Cal is going to love that on you.” Penelope remarked with a smirk.

She giggled and playfully shook her head, “I’m getting this for myself, not just to wear for Calum.”

Penelope gave her a look and laughed, “Uh huh. How is Uncle Cal doing?”

They walked towards the cashier, “He’s good, I haven’t seen him since Monday. Our schedules have been all over. Speaking of Calum, don’t tell him we’re here.” She blushed as they waited in line.

“At the mall or at this store?” Penelope asked confused as to what she meant.

“This store! Could you imagine if he found out his girlfriend was shopping here? He’d never let me live it down.” She insisted as she grabbed her wallet.

“That’s true, your outfit doesn’t match the aesthetic of the store.” Penelope teased followed by a giggle.

“Not even close! You fit in perfectly Ms. Brentwood.” She teased as they both laughed as they walked up to the register.

Veronica checked out as Penelope stood behind her waiting her turn, as she finished she shoved her bag in her purse before Penelope walked up to the cashier. She grabbed her phone knowing that Calum was with the boys.She smiled at her lockscreen which was Calum asleep on her bed with Hershey, a rare moment when she was awake before him.

They left the store after Penelope finished her transaction and they walked to the next destination, Old Navy. Penelope looked for jeans while Veronica looked for clothes for her nephew Theo’s 3rd birthday. Once they finished they went to Carmine’s Restaurant and Bar, which was their go to whenever in Beverly Hills. As they sat at their table, she recognized most of the staff and one of the bartenders waved as he smiled, “Can you believe you’ve known him since you were 10?”

“Wait I’ve known Jesse for that long? I can’t believe he’s worked here this long.” Penelope joked as he made his way to their table.

“Jessie James!” She teased with a smile as she got up from her table.

“Veronica Mars!! How are you?” He asked as he gave her a hug before Penelope followed suit.

“Let me guess, you two are having another girls day?” He asked as they returned to their seats.

They nodded in agreement as they both laughed, “Of course! How’s your shift?” She smiled as she drank her coke.

“Just started, I’m training a new bartender this week, what’s going on with you girls?!” Jesse asked

“She has a new boyfriend, he pierced her-” Penelope started before Veronica stopped her.

“Penny is a senior this year!” She blurted as she turned bright red.

“Smoothe Veronica, what’s he like?” Jesse asked as he sat up straight.

“He’s the best, you wanna see a picture of him?” She asked as she got out her phone and looked through her pictures.

“Of course, does he do tattoos or just piercings?” He asked with a smile.

“He does both.” She smiled before showing him one of the first selfies they took together.

“You two are so cute, you should bring him here! I need to meet him so I can approve of him” He teased as he got up from his seat.

She laughed as she smiled, “I’ll definitely bring him soon, still working nights?”

He nodded before sighing, “Of course, this is my only day shift. I will see you girls later, I miss you already.” He smiled as he went back to the bar.

“Bye Jesse!” They said in unison as they ordered their usual without looking at the menu. Penelope showed Veronica outfit ideas for her senior pictures photoshoot as she told her where they’d be taking photos and she helped her narrow down to at least 3. When their food came, Veronica put her phone away trying to remind herself Calum was busy and she’d hear from him whenever he wasn’t too busy. Penelope asked about their trip to the resort and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, which was something she was still getting used to.

They finished their lunch just in time for their nail appointment, Penelope and Veronica picked out colors for their nails, Veronica picked white to switch things up. The chemical smell of acrylic strangely comforted Veronica as she attempted not to overthink, the background music an T.V playing distracted her as she closed her eyes fully relaxing. She washed her hands when her nail tech advised her too and she returned so she could add the top coat.

Penelope already paid for her nails before Veronica could even get the chance to, she got out her wallet and paid for her nails and tipped her tech before leaving the salon with Penelope. “Can we go to Goodwill?”

“Duh!” She beamed as she grabbed her keys from her purse and they walked to her car and she unlocked it. She got in the front seat and Penelope got in the passenger seat before plugging her phone in and turning on her bluetooth.

She drove to the Goodwill closest to Penelope’s house while Penelope played music, they sang off key as she drove trying not to get too distracted by Penelope changing songs halfway through, “There is no doubt you are my neice.”

“Not a doubt in my mind.” Penelope teased followed by them both  laughing  as she pulled into the parking lot of Goodwill before parking, she cut the engine as Penelope unplugged her phone. She took off her seatbelt as she grabbed her purse before getting out of the car as Penelope took off her seatbelt.

Penelope opened the door and they walked inside going towards the clothes, “I love how we just went clothes shopping and yet, we still end up here.”

“I expect nothing less from us.” Veronica joked as she shook her head as she grabbed tank tops and then walked over to the sweaters.

“What are you doing for Halloween this year? Please tell me you and Callum are doing couples costumes!” Penelope asked as she showed her a jean jacket

She raised her eyebrows as she smiled, “That’s cute! I have zero idea what him and I are doing!”

“Ronnie, you have no idea what you guys are doing and it’s almost September?” Penelope gushed as she continued shopping with Veronica. After spending almost an hour in Goodwill, Veronica drove Penelope home while helping her bring her bags in and she spent time talking to her sister before heading home.

She changed into a pair sweatpants and white tank top and finished taking off her makeup as she felt her phone vibrate, she smiled when she realized it was Calum.

Calum POV

His hand rested on her thigh as he stared at her while she drove to her place, he smiled as she sang off key to the music playing on the radio, “Thank you for picking me up”

“Of course, I missed you” She smiled as she rested her hand on his thigh as she stopped at the red light.

“I missed you more” He smiled before squeezing her thigh as he watched her pull into her driveway.

“Not a chance.” She kissed his cheek as she opened the garage, she parked before cutting the engine. She took off her seat belt while he took his off, she kissed his lips softly as she smiled.

“C’mon angel, let’s go inside.” He beamed as he got out of her car and she followed after him. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked towards the door.

She opened the door and she led them inside as he closed the door behind them, he followed her into the kitchen as he checked his phone, “Baby do you have an extra charger I can use?”

“Of course, there should be one in my nightstand!” She smiled before kissing his cheek and he smiled before walking down the hallway towards her room. He walked inside to the side of the bed where her nightstand was and opened the top drawer and the first thing he saw wasn’t a charger at all, it was a black sex toy- a vibrator at that. Needless to say he was surprised she had one so close to where she slept. He searched for the extra charger but he couldn’t find it, so he grabbed the vibrator and hid it behind his back as he stepped out of her room. As he walked into the kitchen he saw her sitting on the counter top. She smiled when she saw him, “Did you find the charger?”

“Not quite,”He smirked as he walked up to her before bringing his arm to his torso showing her what he found, “I found this instead, care to explain pretty girl?”

“What exactly do you need me to explain?” She winked

“Have you used it recently?” He teased as he waved it at her before setting it on the counter before stepping between her legs as his hand rested on the nape of her neck.

She held his face in his hands while caressing his cheek, “Couple of days ago. Did you wanna use it in the bedroom baby?”

His cheeks turned pink at her suggestion, realizing he wasn’t completely against it. “Hmm, not a bad idea, pretty girl. Do you have anything you could use on me?”

“I have a couple ideas but you and I could go shopping.” She winked before kissing his jaw softly.

“I like that idea baby.” He smiled before she wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her waist. Their lips connected in a passionate kiss as her fingers played with his curls.

-- Even though his and Veronica’s schedules had been conflicting for weeks they made sure they saw each other once a week to do something, this weekend was Veronica’s choice. She suggested they go to her favorite bar and restaurant and he was all for it, he got ready in record time before picking her up.

His eyes glued to her as she stepped out of her front door with her black clutch, “Hi handsome.” She smiled before locking the door behind her.

“Hi beautiful, you took my breath away.” He breathed as he pulled her close to him wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “I love the dress. I may call you my angel but you’ve got me thinking otherwise.” He purred in her ear as she bit her lip in response.

“Oh yeah?” She winked as she walked with him. He unlocked his car before opening the door for her.

“Oh most definitely, it’s a good thing we have a reservation or I’d take you to the back and show you.” He winked before closing the door. He felt her eyes on him as he walked to his side of the car. He sat down before putting on his seat belt, she rested her hand on his thigh as he drove.

She connected his phone to his car and played music, she sang softly as he drove. She played songs he’d never heard including artists he hadn’t heard of. One song stood out to him as he looked at her when he stopped at the spotlight, “Who is this?”

“This is FKA Twigs, she’s amazing.” She smiled before kissing his cheek.

“Never heard of her, which song is this?”

“This one is Cellophane, can I show you my favorite song by her?” She beamed as she looked through her phone.

“Of course.”

As the song started it sounded completely different than the last one she played, he listened to the lyrics as she sang along. “This one is Fallen Alien!”

They listened to the song as he pulled into the nearest parking spot from where she picked for Dinner. When he finished parking the car he cut the engine and turned to look in her blue eyes, “Ready beautiful?”

She smiled before leaning over to kiss his cheek, “I’m ready handsome.”

He smiled as he unbuckled his seat belt, “Stay put angel, I’m gonna get the door.”

She smiled as he got out of the car and walked to the passenger side before opening the door and he helped her get out of the car. She closed the door behind her as his arm wrapped around her waist and they started to walk down the street. He held her close as they walked down crowded sidewalks, he didn’t want to lose track of her.

She led him to the restaurant as she opened the door to Carmines, he hadn’t been to the place or even heard of it. To him it seemed random and out of the blue. His hand rested on the small of her back as they waited to be seated, he noticed her being familiar with the majority of workers. As they walked past the bar to their table she waved to a bartender whose gaze was fixed on Veronica. She left his side to sit down on the chair across from him at the same time he sat down, “How do you know everyone here?.”

“Because I’ve been here a lot, Penelope and I usually come here after we go shopping. Grayson used to work here before his apprenticeship at the tattoo shop.”

“Oh really? I can’t see Grayson working here.” He stated as he sipped his water.

“Yeah he worked here for like 2 years before his last job.” She smiled before sipping her water, “I’ve had just about everything here, all of it is good.”

He smiled while he looked over the menu trying to decide what to order, he heard someone yell Veronica’s name and his head tilted up and she looked at him. “Who was that?”

“Jesse, I’ve known him for years. I told him I was going to bring you here” She smiled before sipping her water. A waiter took their order and left to go to the bar where Veronica’s friend was working. He couldn’t help but notice her friend staring at them when he’d look around the restaurant.

When the waiter brought their drinks Veronica waved to her friend Jesse and he clenched his jaw when Jesse winked at her. He sipped his whiskey as Veronica motioned him to come over to them. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to him even if Veronica wanted him too.

“You must be the famous Calum! I’m Jesse!” He introduced himself as he stretched out his hand, Calum shook it before faking a smile.

“So your Jesse?”

“Yeah, I’ve known Veronica Mars here for almost 8 years now!” Jesse chirped with a smile causing Veronica to giggle. He hadn’t heard anyone call her Veronica Mars and he wasn’t sure how he felt about his special nickname for her.

“I met Jessie James when I was applying for jobs at the mall, my sister and I went here after and he was just starting out.” She smiled at Jesse not even bothering to look in Calum’s eyes.

“Great, I’ll be right back.” He huffed before getting out of his chair and walking towards the front door past all of the customers waiting. He stepped outside and lit a cigarette to settle down. He wasn’t known to get jealous the way he was right now, he wasn’t sure what to do besides smoke.

He inhaled before leaning against the wall and closing his eyes in an attempt to calm down, to see if Veronica had left her friend Jesse to check on her boyfriend, but to his surprise he was still alone. He finished his cigarette as his heart rate continued to sky rocket of the mere thought of Jesse and his girlfriend spending the entire night flirting. He stepped inside to see her sitting down at the table, the food had arrived and she was looking at her phone.

He sat down on his chair and finished his whiskey before she noticed he was back, “Where did you go?”

“I needed to smoke.” He softly growled as he ate his food, his eyes never leaving his plate as they ate their dinner.

He finished his water as his eyes met hers, “Are you going to tell me whats going on? You’re quieter than usual.”

“It’s nothing, did you want dessert?” He lied as he grabbed his phone.

“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it here, you want to say goodbye to your boyfriend Jesse before we leave?” He barked as he cleared his throat, he clenched his jaw as he looked at Jesse.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, “That is what this is all about? Jesse?”

“Do you want to say goodbye to him or not?” He pressed as he set his phone down so he could grab his wallet.

“I actually do want to say goodbye, I need to talk to him about something.” She sighed as she got up from her chair looking in his eyes.

“You’re seriously going to talk to him?”

“You’re being ridiculous Calum, I need to ask him something about Grayson.” She expressed as she furrowed her brows at him.

“Oh that’s why you’ve been paying more attention to him instead of your actual boyfriend.” He shook his head as he got up from his chair, he stood in front of her smelling her perfume. “I’ll be out front waiting.”

She rolled her eyes before walking away from him towards the bar, she smiled when Jesse leaned on the counter to talk to her. He couldn’t help being jealous of whatever was going on between them, even if it was nothing. She had paid more attention to Jesse all night instead of him.

He paid for dinner and stepped outside before grabbing a cigarette, he lit his cigarette before inhaling. He exhaled deeply before turning to look back inside the restaurant as Veronica and Jesse were still talking, the smile had disappeared from her face as she shook her head. She waved to him and other workers as he inhaled, he exhaled before he put out his cigarette on the brick wall. The front door opened as she stepped outside crossing her arms, “Ready to go?”

He nodded as he walked with her back to his car, she walked ahead of him as her arms maintained crossed. As they reached his car he unlocked the car and she got in the passenger seat. He turned on his phone’s Bluetooth as he started playing music before he pulled out of the parking spot.

As he drove she looked out the window and they sat in silence for the first time it wasn’t comfortable. He didn’t know what to say or how to talk about it with her. He didn’t want to come off as the jealous boyfriend but that’s exactly what was going on.

“Are you really not gonna talk to me?” She sighed as she looked at him as they were stopped at a red light.

“What do we have to talk about?” He lied as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Really? We have nothing to talk about?”

“You spent the majority of the evening fawning over Jesse and neglecting your actual boyfriend.” He argued as he drove her home.

“I was not fawning over him, I’ve known him for 7 years. I was asking him about Grayson.” She continued as she paused the music playing in the background.

“Right, the entire night you were talking about Grayson.’ He huffed as he started the music again.

“Are you serious right now?. If you would’ve asked me sooner instead of getting jealous and defensive you’d know what I talked to him about.”

“Of course I’m serious Veronica.” He argued as he pulled into her driveway.

“You’re ridiculous Calum.” She unbuckled her seatbelt before getting out of his car and slamming the door behind her.

* * * *

It had almost been a week since their last date that ended abruptly due to Calum’s jealousy. She didn’t understand how he could be jealous when he knew how she felt about him. She hadn’t seen Jesse in months and she needed to talk to him about Grayson, thankfully Jesse was friends with Grayson’s ex and found out that they had been hanging out again and that’s why he was lying to her.

Grayson knew how Veronica felt about his ex, especially this one and knew if he told her he was hanging out with them she’d get mad at him. She stopped trying with Grayson knowing his history with his ex, they’d hurt him again and he’d be back to being home like normal.

When she got home from work she decided to make her comfort dish; lasagna. She had meat substitute since Calum loved her lasagna  so she decided to use it even if she knew he was still wasn’t talking to her. She cut the veggies and put seasoning on them as she felt her phone vibrate against the counter. She sighed when she saw that it wasn’t Calum. “Hey Lukey.”

“Hey Darlin, is he still not talking to you?”

“Nope, haven’t heard from him since our date.” She sighed as she walked to her fridge.

“He’s been miserable for days, don’t know why he hasn’t.”

“So have I, I’m making lasagna.” She mentioned as she grabbed the cheese she needed.

“Oh, let me talk to him.”

“Luke, it’ll be okay. He’ll come around when he wants to.” She set the cheese on the counter, she heard the doorbell ring and she narrowed her eyes. “I think someone’s here, I’ll text you.”

“Okay be safe.” Luke expressed before hanging up.

She walked to the front door before slowly opening it. Her eyes met his soft brown eyes, “Hi.”

“Hi, can I come in?” Calum asked as she looked him up and down, he had noticeable scruff on his chin and he smelt like smoke.

“Yeah of course,” She smiled softly before stepping aside so he could come inside. She faintly smelled his cologne as she closed the front door leading him into the kitchen. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“I want to apologize for my behavior the other night, I was childish and I should’ve just been honest with you. I’m scared I’ll lose you and you're the best thing that’s happened to me.” He expressed as he stretched his arms out.

She walked up to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his head nuzzled in the crook of her neck, “It’s okay baby, you’re not going to lose me. You have nothing to worry about”

He softly kissed her neck before looking in her eyes, “Promise?”

She kissed his lips softly before smiling, “I promise, I love you Calum. When I’m with you I feel less broken and that scares the shit out of me.”

He kissed her forehead before pulling her closer to him, “You aren’t broken, you are perfect the way you are. I love you.” He smiled as she held his face in her hands.

“I love you,” She kissed his lips softly before smiling, “You want to stay for dinner?”

“Of course, are you making my favorite?” He smiled as he let go of her waist.

“I am, want to help?” She smiled and he nodded, “Can you heat this up and add these spices?” She pointed to the array of spices on her counter.

“Absolutely.” He smiled as he got out a pan and set the beyond meat in the pan before starting it. He added the spices she laid out for him as he grabbed a spatula.

t a g l i s t - @pxrxmoore​  @sublimehood​ @ghostoflrh​ @calumscalm​ @mellifluoushood​ @calumthomcs​ @twilightmomentswithyou​ @boytoynamedcalum​ @ohhmuke​ @calswildflower​ @highscal​ @sanrioluke​ @softlrh​ @flowers-on-the-graves @currentlyupcalsass​ @clemmings​ @highfivecalum​ @wastelandcth​ @himbocalum​ @feliznavidaddycal​ @icyicejuice​ @notinthesameguey​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @calumrose​ @tpwkatsumu​

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 1- Walk of Shame

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Someone’s dead. Bucky has some plums and despairs at Steve’s choice of breakfast. They go to DC to try and convince Katie to come back and help with the case but she aint having it…coz she hates Steve’s guts… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Dark Comedy themes basically CSI:NY + Brooklyn 99 = CSI: Steeb.

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (yeah she still doesn’t like him this Episode…)

Song for Episode:  Let Her Go by Passenger 

A/N: Contains Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read that series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT! 

Tags are open. 

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List 

Main Masterlist 

Steve turned the key in the lock of his apartment, stepped inside and closed the door behind him as slowly and quietly as possible so as not to wake up Bucky. It was still quite early, he had been on the usual morning run with Sam, something that the men did daily during the week unless work cases got in the way. He walked through the hallway and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. He practically drained it in one before he set a fresh pot of coffee to brew and then headed for the shower. He stopped on his way down the corridor as he saw the door to the spare bedroom, now Bucky’s, was wide open. Steve peered into the bedroom but there was no trace of Bucky and his bed was perfectly made, cushions in place. He sighed and went into his own bedroom, taking off his clothes and trainers and heading into the en-suite. He turned on the shower and stepped under the warm spray, tilting his head to greet the water as it cascaded down on him.

Bucky had returned from an undercover mission in Russia almost 7 months ago and had immediately taken possession of the spare room in Steve’s apartment. What had started as a favour to a friend who had returned from a long term mission overseas and was trying now to re-settle in New York, had turned into Steve seemingly permanently (and reluctantly for that matter) sharing his flat with his lead Sergeant and sometimes annoying friend. Their personalities were as opposed as day and night, but there was a bond between them that went back to their teenage years and both secretly hoped it would last till the end of the line.

Rinsing off his hair he turned off the shower and stepped out. He gave his hair a quick rub over and then, wrapping a towel round his waist he headed into the bedroom and over to the dresser which stood against the wall by the foot of his bed. His eyes fell to the framed photo on the top of it and he blew out a little huff as 2 laughing faces greeted him back. It was a photo of him and Katie, a selfie that she had snapped whilst they had been in Central Park. Katie had positioned them to get a squirrel in the back ground and it had worked. Just as Katie had pushed the button the squirrel had looked directly at the camera from behind them and it had sent the pair of them into a fit of laugher. Up until Bucky moving in, this photo had been in his living room by the stereo. But now it stayed in the private of his room. He couldn’t bring himself to place it in a drawer. 

He dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, before grabbing his electric razor to sort his facial hair out, ensuring his once again present (albeit shorter than before) beard was clean, crisp and defined. Once he had finished the rest of his morning routine he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself freshly brewed coffee into his favoured breakfast mug, one that was adored with the words “O Captain! My Captain!” a quote from the poem by Walt Whitman as read by Robin Williams in “Dead Poet Society” one of his favourite films. It had been a joke gift from Katie when he had gotten his promotion, just another reminder of how good their friendship used to be. He had just grabbed a piece of left over pizza from the fridge when the front door open and he heard Bucky taking off his shoes as he muttered something under his breath. When Bucky entered the kitchen Steve was leaning on the kitchen counter sipping from his mug and looking at his friend from under his long eyelashes.

 “That your breakfast?“ Steve asked nodding towards a brown paper bag Bucky was sporting.

"Yup. That yours?” he answered looking at the pizza in Steve’s hand Steve shrugged. “Man, have a plum instead” Bucky offered.

 "No, thanks.“ Steve refused curtly.

"You know breakfast is the most important meal of the day, don’t you?” Bucky quipped, biting into a plum. “That nutrition program you took years ago clearly didn’t teach you shit” he snorted.

“You’re hilarious" Steve deadpanned. “Where did you sleep last night? Or should that be with WHOM did you sleep last night?” Steve was asking both out of curiosity and as a way to distract attention from his eating habits. “What’s the dame’s name this time? That’s if you even bothered to ask.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve drained his mug. “Name’s Alex seeing as you’re that interested, granddad.” Bucky informed. Steve merely arched an eyebrow and shoved his now empty mug in the dishwasher.

“I’m impressed” Steve said, walking out of the kitchen and heading to the living room “Have you remembered what Miss Friday was called yet?” “Maybe I always knew full well but didn’t want to tell you as you’re a judgemental dick.” Bucky shot back, following him into the living room “Just because you’re not getting any.”

Steve snorted and shook his head “I really don’t care about the fact you seem to be working your way through the entire female population of New York…” “Admit it, you’re backed up.” Bucky said, looking at him and Steve rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you got any?”

Steve really wasn’t prepared to divulge that. It had been Christmas time, with Katie…7 months ago. And he had no desire to tell Bucky. Instead, he ignored him and looked at his watch. 

“We’re leaving in five” Steve said “Get ready Punk.”

 "I am ready, jerk" Bucky replied gesturing to his outfit.

“You’re seriously gonna got to work wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?“ Steve looked at him with an expression of disgust on his face. "Talk about the walk of shame.”

“Well, yesterday was my day off so nobody at the station will know what the hell I was wearing" Bucky replied with a wide playful smile.

 "Whatever.“ Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while saying "Take your weapon and your badge and let’s go, it’s getting late.”

“Aye, Aye Captain” Bucky said miming a salute.

********

“Captain Rogers” greeted the security guard at the door of the station. “Sergeant Barnes.”

“Good morning, Heimdall” Steve greeted back while Bucky acknowledged the man with a nod of his head.

As the pair headed for the floor where the Investigation Unit of the 101st was located, Bucky pulled out his phone and started typing.

“Texting her?” Steve asked looking down at Bucky’s phone.

“Who’s her?” Bucky replied. 

“Jeez, Buck, the girl you spent last night with. Alex, was it?” Steve scoffed.

“Oh.., nah.” he said with a frown “What would I?” he continued. “And you can say bang, Steve. You’re not a medieval bard” a mischievous smile now spreading on his face.

“Bucky, I swear to God one day….” Steve started to say but was interrupted by the melodious voice of Wanda as he got out of the elevator, Bucky following him cackling.

“Good morning, Steve.” Wanda said “Coffee?” she asked looking at him with doe eyes.

“No thanks, Wanda. Already had breakfast” he replied while Bucky muttered “If that’s what you call it”. Steve turned to give an icy look to Bucky who retreated to his desk. 

“I’ve left the reports you asked for yesterday on your desk.” Wanda informed him. “Would that be all?”

“Thanks, Wanda.” he said before ordering “Assemble the team in the briefing room in fifteen.” and he walked towards where Natasha was scrolling through her phone and Clint was sat on his chair, his feet on the desk throwing a baseball against the nearby wall.

“Morning Romanoff” Steve said. Natasha lifted her eyes from the phone and acknowledged him.

“Rogers.”. She might seem to be engrossed on whatever she was doing with her phone but Steve knew she never missed a trick.

“Barton” the Captain raised his voice “You break something, you’re paying for it. We’re on a tight budget.” and with that he entered his office and shut the door behind him, something that was unusual for their Captain. His door normally remained open unless the conversation was private or he was pissed off. 

As there was no one else in there with him, it was clearly the latter.

“He needs to get laid.” Clint said, turning back to Natasha, resuming his bouncing of his baseball again. Bucky let out a snort.

“He sure does” replied Natasha who suddenly threw her phone on her desk and got up to make her way towards Wanda’s counter. 

“You should ask him out on a date” she whispered to Wanda leaning over her desk.

“Wh… What are you talking about” Wanda stuttered while closing the book she was reading and feeling the heat spread through her neck up to her cheeks.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him” Natasha added with a half-smile. 

“That obvious” Wanda enquired covering her cheeks, which were now deep red, with her hands showing Natasha her chipped black nail polish. Bucky watched the exchange with a slight smirk. 

Natasha only shrugged and retorted “Well, you should find the courage to do it in that witchery book you’re reading” she said pointing to the paperback with a movement of her head. “Scarlett Witch”.

Bucky picked up the phone, there was a message on his desk to call Stark about some evidence on a case, turning away to allow Wanda to get over her embarrassment. He heard the voice of Deputy Commissioner Fury and turned to watch as he greeted Natasha and Wanda.

 "Good morning, ladies.“

“Good morning Sir…” They both said in unison as her swept past them heading towards Steve’s office.  He rapped on the door and didn’t wait for an answer before he swung it open, causing Steve to glance up slightly puzzled. His team knew to wait for him to call them in before entering if his door was closed. At seeing his boss he immediately stood.

“Sir.”

“At ease Captain” The deputy commissioner spoke, waving his hand. Steve gestured for him to take the seat opposite his desk.

“You hear with a mission?”

“You could say that.” Fury said, “Get Barnes in here and close the door. This one’s sensitive.”

“Sir…” Steve frowned slightly and stood up, heading out into the main office.

“Buck…” 

Bucky was by this point on the phone, leaning back in his chair feet on his desk. He looked at Steve, nodding to acknowledge him, holding his hand up, finger on his right hand extended instructing Steve to keep quiet. 

“That’s great Stark!” he paused, “So it’s definitely a match…excellent, yeah…sure…thanks…”

He placed the phone down “Science Bros got a match on the bullet from the mini-mart robbery. Matches the gun Simon Cranston had in his possession when we brought him in. We got him bang to rights!”

“Good, listen, Buck…Fury’s here. Says he has a case but it’s sensitive…” Understanding immediately Bucky stood up. He smoothed down his blue and white button down and followed Steve into his office, closing the door behind him.

“We have a situation.” Fury said. “Body, found by a dog walker early hours of this morning. Early shift called it in.”

“Ok, well we’ve not held briefing yet…” Bucky said, trailing off as he saw the frown on Steve’s face.

“What is it sir?” “Technically it’s the 99s patch…” Fury said, “But as soon as Peralta realised who it was he called Holt who in turn called me. This is one for the 101st.”

“Why?” Steve asked, frowning. 

“It’s Senator Ross.” Fury said, looking at him.

“Shit.” Steve sighed

“I’m not gonna lie Steve, as much as I admire and like Holt, your unit is more geared up for this and the 99 are currently swamped on a drugs case any way so…” Fury shrugged.

“Right, I’ll get the team onto it right away.”

“Odinson and his team are currently manning the scene, I had them take over from Holt’s guys as soon as I found out.” Fury nodded “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that we need absolute discretion about this, at least for the time being. I’ll liaise with the top brass and Capitol Hill. Once we know what we’re dealing with we can discuss how we handle the press. For now, keep them away.” “Sir.” Steve agreed. 

“I trust you can take it from here?”

Steve nodded and watched as his boss left before he turned to Bucky. “Get Romanoff and Barton down there now, and then get onto Wilson and Stark. I’ll call Holt, find out the details and sort out taking over. Then we’ll head down there.”

“Sure.” Bucky said, heading out into the office, closing the door behind him.

Steve paused for a second, before he picked up the phone sighing. A murder always attracted attention but when it was a public figure that interest was going to be relentless.

*****

It was almost ten when Steve pulled his car to a stop near Greenway Terrace in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Bucky got out of the car closing the door behind him and put his phone in the back pocket of his black jeans and waited for Steve to reach his side before they both started walking towards the tightly secured area. 

They approached Thor who was standing by the Scene Crime Do Not Cross yellow tape ordering to one of his immediate subordinates to remove unnecessary individuals from the scene and keep the tourists and the press as far away as possible. It was a bright July morning and this part of the park offered the tourists, and the public in general, a beautiful shady sitting area with stunning views to New York Harbor.

Once they exchanged a few words with Thor who assured them he would keep the press at bay, they ducked under the tape and headed to the area where Detectives Romanoff and Barton were examining the surroundings of the crime scene. 

"Romanoff, Barton. What do we got?” Bucky heard Steve ask the pair of detectives.

He was looking around trying to get used to the scene before him. He had spent the last years mostly doing undercover work, gathering intel, bringing down drugs or arms dealers and smugglers so, it had been a while since he had been in a presumed murder scene. 

“We’re sweeping the area for casings or slugs.” Natasha said. 

“Nothing, Cap, according to Wilson there’s no gunshot wound, so…” Clint added.

“Footprints? Vehicle tracks?” Steve enquired.

“No vehicle tracks. And seeing as this is a granite terrace no chance of footprints either.” Clint replied. “We are searching the area for some mud or dirt marks though." 

Steve nodded, analysing the information his detectives had delivered, his hands perched on his belt. "Any indications that the crime may have occurred somewhere else?" 

“Nope.” Natasha said “But we won’t know for certain until forensics finish.”

"All right. I want you two to investigate the surrounding neighbourhood. This took place presumably last night and there’s this hill over there that separates the area from Furman Street, so it is unlikely that we find any witnesses.” Steve elaborated.

“Got it Cap…” Clint said. “We’ll talk to the neighbours. See if anybody has seen anything suspicious.”

“Romanoff…” Steve started to say before Natasha cut in.

“We’ll visit the surrounding shops and businesses to check surveillance footage. I know the drill , Rogers.” to which Steve couldn’t help but smile.

“Ok. See you at the station when you’re done.” Steve dismissed them and looked at Bucky who was watching as the forensics assistants were taking photos of the crime scene and the corpse from every angle possible.

“Ready to see what Ross has to say?” Steve asked Bucky as he began to walk towards Sam Wilson, the unit Pathologist and Tony Stark, lead forensic who was gathering evidence.

“Didn’t know you were one for black humour, punk” Bucky replied suppressing a laugh.

“Wilson?” Steve greeted Sam. “What do you have?”

“Hi, Rogers. You prefer the cause or the manner?” Sam shot back.

“Is the order relevant?” Steve asked smiling at Sam’s playful ways.

“Not in this case.” Sam said. 

“What about the time of death?” Bucky asked.

Sam pondered about it for a few seconds before replying “I estimate it between three and five a.m.”

“What? Two hours span? Couldn’t you be more specific?” Bucky said surprised by Wilson answer.

“Where did you get this guy, Rogers?” Tony entered the exchange. “Do you want the exact hour and minute? That’s impossible unless you were here with a stopwatch!" 

"Stark.” Sam tried to shut Tony. 

“All right. Call it, Wilson” Tony said with a sigh but glaring at Bucky.

“Well, based on the corpse temperature and his body mass and taking into account muscle stiffening and blood setting, I could give you from three to four thirty in the morning, but we’ll have to wait until I’ve opened him up to be more accurate.” Sam elaborated.

“The guy is as pale as a ghost” Bucky tried to say something meaningful.

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s called palor in scientific jargon.” Tony quipped visibly annoyed at Bucky’s presence.

“That’s enough!” Steve raised his voice. “Wilson, please, continue.”

“All right. So, it looks like he was killed here. There’s enough blood on the ground and no sign that he was moved after the killing took place…the murderer knocked him down first, nasty wound on the back of the head and he took a bit of a beating too. Lots of bruising to his face.” Sam explained.

“Quite a violent MO. Rage…” Steve mused.

“Yeah. If the cereal didn’t choke him to death, the blunt force trauma did it.” Sam said looking down at the corpse. “But again, I’ll know more when…”

“Hang on, what do you mean? What cereal?” Steve cut him off while sharing a surprised look with Bucky.

“I pulled this out of his throat with a pair of tweezers.” Tony said to Steve showing him an evidence bag with what looked like some sort of breakfast cereal.

“Are those Puffed Rice?”  Bucky asked gaining a glare from Tony. Sam and Steve looked at him at the same time.

“That’s one hell of an odd calling card.” Steve whispered gazing past the other men into the river front. “What kind of message is cereal conveying?”

“Well, I think that…” Bucky was beginning to say but was interrupted by a raging Tony.

“Barnes, would you shut up? We’re trying to work here and your presence is disturbing enough without your silly comments.”

Steve wanted to warn Tony about his remarks but things were a bit rocky between them after what had happened at the Commendation party, so he let it be. 

“Thanks, Wilson. Let me know when you’re ready to do the PM.” Steve said. He always liked to attend the Post Mortems in person, if possible. It was easier to ask questions and understand as Sam worked.

“Yeah, well, cut the cheque.” Sam replied.

Steve smiled at the pathologist, who was waiting for Judge Hill’s order to remove the body and take it to the morgue, and waved both men goodbye as he ordered Bucky to follow him with a movement of his head.

“What do you think?” Steve asked him

“Well before Stark jumped in, and by the way that guy has a stick up his ass, I was about to say I think we need a profiler” Bucky replied while both men walked their way back to the car. 

Steve was quiet for a minute before saying “I know someone." 

Bucky had noticed Steve hesitation before speaking and was about to ask him who he was talking about but was interrupted by Steve’s phone ringing. So he waited patiently leaning on the car door while Steve got the call. He was scrolling through his own messages when Steve came back with a serious demeanour. 

"We’re stopping at Police Plaza. It was Pierce, he wants to meet me at headquarters.”

*******

Bucky headed into the coffee shop over the road whilst Steve was waved up to Pierce’s office.

“Captain Rogers…” Pierce greeted him. “I’m sure you can guess what this is about.” “Ross.” Steve nodded, taking a seat as Pierce nodded.

“Ross and I were at University together.” Pierce said, “So this…well, it’s kind of personal for me.” “I’m sorry to hear that sir.” Steve nodded.

“So, I want to be kept in the loop on this one. Normally I don’t take an interest in every body we find, I can’t but…”

“I understand.” Steve assured the Commissioner. 

“So, do we have a cause of death?”

“Well…” Steve scratched at his chin “We won’t know for sure until we can do the Post Mortum, which hopefully will be later today but…well, it’s odd. It was either a blow to the head or cereal.”

“Cereal?” Pierce blinked.

“Yes, Forensics recovered a quantity of the stuff in his throat. But like I say, we won’t know for sure until Dr Wilson has done his job.” Pierce sighed. “Who uses Cereal as a murder weapon?” “Well, on that…” Steve sighed. “I think we could do with a profiler.”

“Whatever you need.” Pierce said, “I’ll pull some strings, get you someone from the FBI, anything.” “With all due respect Sir…” Steve looked at him “I’d rather bring in a profiler who’s in the force…and I know just the person. But I’d like the chance to speak to them first. They won’t feel happy about simply being forced into this if that makes sense.” “I really don’t care if they’re happy or not.” Pierce said, his jaw twitching “I want the A- team on this, Rogers, no matter what.” “Absolutely, and you have my word. If they don’t agree I’ll call, then you can pull whatever strings you need.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Pierce looked at him. They continued to talk, Pierce promising to make budget available for all the overtime he needed before he headed down in the elevator, leaning back against the wall. Working a murder was always stressful as you were under so much pressure to bring the perp to justice, but with Pierce now being personally interested, the pressure was going to double. He stepped out of the cool air conditioned lobby of HQ and called Fury to run his idea passed him. Fury gave him the green light and with that he crossed the road, finding Bucky was on the phone.

“I don’t believe in co-incidences Romanoff.” he said, nodding to Steve “It could be nothing but just keep an open mind…” Steve gestured to the phone and Bucky handed it over.

“Romanoff, its Rogers.” he said,

“Hey Cap.” “Listen, I need to head out of town with Sergeant Barnes for the evening, related to this case. We’re bringing in a profiler and I need to speak to them in person. Can you liaise with Wilson and ensure either your or Clint, or both are at the PM. Usual stuff…” “Sure.” there was a pause “Who’s the profiler, anyone we know?” There was a lilt to her voice that told Steve she knew exactly who he had in mind.

“Dismissed” he said simply, ending the call and tossing the phone back to Bucky.  “What’ the coincidence?”

“Oh, erm… Ross’s real name is Paul Thaddeus Ross, he uses his middle name.” “So?” “PR…his initials, same as the cereal…puffed rice.” “That’s a bit tentative Buck” Steve said. “But good spot, we’ll bear it in mind.”

“So, you taking me on a trip?” Bucky looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.

“Anywhere nice?” 

“DC.” Steve looked at him “The profiler I told you about. She lives there.” “She…oh, you’re talking about Stark…the little one?” Bucky said with a slight sigh. “You want me to drive with you to DC, to convince the woman that hates your guts to come back and work for you?” “Pretty much, yeah.” Steve nodded. “Why her man? You could bring in any profiler…” “Because she knows the team.” Steve said, “I explained this to Pierce. Getting that lot to trust an outsider to the force will be hard work and I don’t have time for Natasha pulling her grin of death shit. Profilers who are actually still active officers within the Police Service are a rare commodity and, well frankly Buck, she’s one of the best in the business.” “And you let her go…” Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t going to stand in the way of her taking an opportunity that was, frankly, too good to refuse.” Steve sighed. “Right.” Bucky said “and that’s all there was to it?” “Yup” Steve held his gaze as best he could. “You’re a shit liar.” Bucky grumbled, standing up “I take it we get an overnighter?” Steve smiled, knowing that was Bucky’s way of agreeing to come with him. “Yeah, we’ll stay tonight. If we leave within the hour we should be there for just before 6pm.” Steve said, checking his watch. “You’re the boss…” Bucky said, standing up “We best go grab a bag.”

Less than 30 minutes later the 2 of them were making their way out of Brooklyn, the address of the SHIELD unit building programmed into the GPS.

"So how you gonna play this?” Bucky asked, lounging back in the passenger seat of Steve’s Audi Q5. It made Bucky laugh how Steve’s newest purchase, the sleek steel grey Audi held every gadget and extra he could ever need and then some. Steve lived quite a frugal lifestyle. He had nice things, his apartment was furnished well, his clothes were a mixture of high end high street brands with the odd designer item thrown in, but he never bought what he didn’t need as such. His apartment was a total of 5 rooms including the bedrooms despite the fact he could easily afford a more grandiose place. Bucky knew that it was as a product of growing up without much, his mom had never been well off, and Steve was likely stashing most of his money for a rainy day.

But when it came to cars, Steve Rogers was happy to splurge.

The Captain shifted slightly and bit his bottom lip , his thumb rapping on the top of the steering wheel.  "I’m gonna show her the case file. Ask her opinion. See what she makes of it…and hopefully it’s gonna grab her interest enough to make her agree to come back for a while…“ "And if it fails?” Steve hesitated. He looked at Bucky who gave a groan, spotting the look on his face. “You’ll go over her head…man she’s gonna hate you even more then!” “Not sure that’s possible.” Steve sighed

*******

“Steve…” Captain Phil Coulson stood up, greeting him warmly “It’s been a while.” “Indeed it has.” Steve smiled at the man he had worked a case with a few years back, one which saw Thor’s brother, Loki, put away for a very long time. “Almost 3 years I believe.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun huh?”  Coulson smiled and Steve reciprocated.

“Sergeant, James Barnes…Captain Phil Coulson.” Steve introduced the two men. “Please, call me Bucky.”

Phil nodded and then gestured to the elevator “Shall we?”

They followed him in, their Visitors badges pinned to their chests

“So, Fury called ahead. You want Stark back?”

“In a nutshell.” Steve nodded “I can’t go into details but…we need a profiler, and this one’s already getting some high up attention. From our Commissioner no less.” “Yeah I won’t lie, I’m not happy about this.” Coulson sighed “She’s working a case on a very big Sex Trafficking ring at the moment so losing her will be a blow…”

“She is only on secondment.” Steve reminded the man “The deal was if we need her back…” “I know” Coulson assured Steve he understood, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Phil, I wouldn’t be doing this if I had a choice.” Steve said gently.

“That’s right, he wouldn’t. She hates him…” Bucky added. Steve shot him a glare.

Coulson frowned “Really? She’s never had anything but praise for her old team and commanding officer.” Steve felt something in his chest warm slightly.

“But of course, that could just be professional courtesy.” Coulson finished.

The warmth disappeared.

The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a large, modern, open planned office. Coulson led them through the throngs of desks, towards the right side of the room. Steve heard her before he saw her.

“I really don’t give a shit…” she was saying, her tone exasperated “This is a big chance for us to nail this guy. So you tell Sergeant Jones his men are needed…and don’t make me go to Coulson…”

As they approached her desk Steve saw her slam the phone down and rub her hands over her face and he could already smell her day perfume- Daisy By Marc Jacobs. A light, woody fragrance yet fresh and feminine at the same time. Whenever he caught the smell of it on anyone else he instantly thought of her. It was alluring, comforting…

Her head raised, her green eyes locked onto his and she shook her head. “You have got to be shitting me…” she spluttered out.

“Sergeant…” Coulson looked at her, “Really?”

“Sorry Sir, I’m just…surprised, shall we say, to see Captain Rogers. And Sergeant Barnes.” her tone was even but her eyes were flashing dangerously.

“Strictly business…” Steve held his hands up “Got a case I need your help on.”

“Out of all the profilers…you need me?”

“He says you’re the best.” Bucky jumped in. At that her face softened somewhat and she gave a sigh and turned to her boss.

“Can we use the briefing room?”

Coulson nodded “I’ll get Jackson to book it out for you.” “Thanks.” she said, moving her chair back. She stood up and Steve took her in, dressed as always for work, a button down (light pink this time) the top few buttons undone revealing a navy blue vest top coupled with black jeans and tan knee high boots. “Gentlemen…” She motioned for them to follow her and they headed into the large room at the back. She closed the door and perched on the desk at the front and looked at Steve expectantly. “So what made you drive 4 hours over here to hear me tell you to fuck off instead of merely picking up the phone?” “This.” Steve said, handing her his phone after he pulled up the photos he’d had Tony email him.

“Holy shit…” she mumbled “Ross? He’s dead?”

Steve nodded “Commissioner Pierce is taking a personal interest on this, and given the odd calling card left, I’ve got a feeling this isn’t going to be the last body that turns up.” She looked at him, the pair of them sharing an understanding. Unless it was gang related, it was unusual for a calling card to be left by a onetime killer.

“Keep going…” Steve said, as she swiped across his screen. He watched as her mouth dropped open as she squinted at the screen, before looking at Steve, then Bucky, then back to the photo.

“Is that…puffed rice?” she asked.

“You got it.” Bucky nodded “But we won’t know if that’s what killed him until Wilson’s done the PM.” “Death by Cereal…” she snorted “A Cereal Serial killer…”

Despite himself, Steve felt his mouth curl up in a smile “I was hoping it would grab your attention.”

Katie bit the inside of her cheek “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” “Why cereal?” Bucky looked at her.

She scratched her head “Ok, so this is purely supposition, but when I was training to become a profiler, there was a case study about a killer in Minnesota. He was leaving Caviar in the mouths of his victims. They were upper class bankers and dealers, he was targeting them because he blamed them for his business going bankrupt. It was kind of a taunt really…” she bit her lip “But Cereal is something that’s so widely available, it can’t be that…maybe it’s the opposite. Look how dangerous something that you can see or take for granted every day can be…”

Bucky looked at Steve, and had to smile at the way the Captain was looking at the woman opposite him, his expression soft, almost proud.

“You said she was good Steve…” he said and Steve turned to him, giving him a smile. Katie held out his phone and he took it, his fingers brushing her slightly and she pulled her hand back immediately, a pink flush rising to her cheeks as she looked down at her legs which were swinging to and fro as she sat on the desk.

“So what do you say?” Steve asked softly

“I can’t.” she said after a pause.

“Katie…” “No, Steve.” she looked at him “I left Brooklyn to do a job here, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Pull someone in from the Bureau.”

“I don’t want someone from the Bureau.” Steve said “I need someone on this we can trust, someone that knows the team, someone that can get their hands dirty…”

She sighed and looked up at him, and he didn’t miss the flash of sadness across her face “The days of me jumping to your tune are over.” she said with a shrug “Sorry, you’ve had a wasted journey but no is my final answer. Good luck.” With that she hopped off the desk and left the room without looking back.

“Well that went well.” Bucky said, “I could say I told you so but…” “Don’t” Steve practically growled, his hands on the buckle of his belt. “Looks like I’m gonna have to do this the hard way.”

“Yeah she’s gonna have your balls for earrings.” Bucky turned to him. “Now I don’t know about you but I think we should check in with Romanoff about the PM and then go get a drink.” ***** “So you’re alive then?” Katie’s voice hit Steve’s ears as she shut the office door behind her. “Just ghosting me.”

“I’m not…” he started to protest but knew it was useless, she’d hit the nail on the head. He had been avoiding her. Completely.

“Why Steve?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears “I thought…I thought it meant something to you, that I meant something to you…” “Sweetheart…” he sighed, walking out from his desk towards her “It did, you do, I just…” “You just what?” she looked up at him. “I wake up, and you’re gone…didn’t even stay for breakfast… and then you ignore me for 3 days?”

“I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did.” he sighed.

“So you regret it?” “No, it’s not that…” he sighed “Katie, I’m your boss…this…us…” he waved his hand between them “it can’t happen.” “It’s a bit late for that…” Katie shook her head, the tears in her eyes were now replaced with a blazing fire, one that he knew only too well and he inwardly cringed at the verbal attack he was about to receive. Only it never came. Instead her voice remained level as she raised her chin to look at him straight on “You know, you pretend to be this moral guy, when all along you’re no different to the rest of them. You got what you wanted and now you’re not interested.” “Katie, that’s not what it was.” he sighed “I care about you, everything I said that night was true but…” “I’m gonna take that job in DC.” she said, cutting him off.

Steve sighed “There’s plenty of time to think about that. Don’t do anything rash…” “Well then give me a reason to stay.” she whispered, pleading with him as she stepped forward. “Steve, we could have something so good if you just give it a chance.” Steve’s hands fell to her hips, an automatic response, before he moved back, shaking his head. And that was the moment he saw her break. The disappointment in her eyes killed him and he couldn’t look at her anymore.

“I can’t.” he said, turning away.

She didn’t speak another word. Instead she turned and left, not even slamming the door behind her.

“The next day I signed the paper work to authorise the 2 year secondment.” Steve said, his fingers sliding across the label on the bottle of beer in front of him as he sat in the bar opposite the hotel with Bucky, finishing his explanation  “She left at the weekend without speaking so much as another word to me, said her goodbyes to the team when she knew I wouldn’t be there.”

“You didn’t even try and fight for her?” Bucky looked at him, shaking his head “Man, what the actual fuck?” “Can you imagine the shit storm it would cause?” Steve sighed “One of us would have had to move units, and that would have been her, not me.” “Dude, you could have worked through that!” Bucky said “She was coming to DC, it’s not that far away. You could have seen each other at weekends, or in your free time���” “Maybe.” Steve sighed. If truth be told he’d thought about that a lot after she left. Thought about calling her and seeing if they could work it out, but the longer he left it the harder it got. And she ignored all the calls and texts he had sent her anyway. “It’s too late now.” he shook his head. “Do you love her?” Bucky looked at him. Steve hesitated for a second, considering the question. It was an easy answer in the end.

“I think in a way I always have.” Steve shrugged “As a friend anyway…”

“That’s not what I asked.” Bucky said simply.

Steve looked at him and sighed “Don’t make me say it Buck, please.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He shook his head and looked at his friend “You’re an idiot.” “I know.”

“How are you gonna feel when she comes back?” “Same as I always feel when she’s around.” Steve drained his bottle “Like that scrawny assed punk from Brooklyn that was always getting his ass kicked.”

“Well, just like old times then…” Bucky said, knocking back the rest of his drink before he clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder “I got ya back pal, till the end of the line.”

@the-omni-princess  @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld  @cobalt-gear  @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13  @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie  @navispalace @patzammit  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog  @djeniiscorner  @ayamenimthiriel  @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @disneylovingal @madzmilllz  @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan 

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Drive in movie date with Erik.

“What showing did you buy tickets for?”

You wait for Erik to find the both of you a good spot closer to the front. He parks the car, pausing his music that he had playing through his Bluetooth.

“Candyman,” he says while showing you the tickets for that, “And...Lost Boys.”

You give him a huge smile, “YESSS! You remembered how much I love Lost Boys.”

“Y/N, your annoying ass practically begged me every damn day about seeing it.” He reminds you with humor.

“Well, you listened to me so that’s all that matters. Promise me something,”

Erik looks at you before opening his car door to grab snacks, “WHAT?”

He knew it was going to be something that would irritate him.

“Can you please not complain while watching it? I don’t wanna hear all that.”

He looked down at you with a mug, “Girl, who you talking to number one, number two AINT nobody tryna disturb your movie. No cap, if it’s wack I’m going the fuck to sleep.”

You groan loudly like a child, “You’re so aggravating.”

Rubbing your temples you open your door to leave only for Erik to stop you with his bark of a voice. He steps out, walking to your side, opening the door himself. You roll your eyes at his dramatics but this was Erik being a gentleman and it was cute and nice of him.

“Thanks, asshole,” you kiss his cheek, “Now lets go so you can buy me some popcorn and candy.”

On your way to the consession stan you swing Erik’s hand in yours, uncaring that he looked down at you like you were crazy. He couldn’t stand when you did this but he never stopped you. The line was pretty decent, moving at a steady pace. The minute it was your turn to order, Erik pulls out his wallet, eyes focused on the menu.

“Can I help you?” A young girl spoke while scratching her weave.

“Yeah, let me get a large popcorn-HOLD UP.”

The young boy behind the girl was already filling the bucket before Erik could finish.

“I want my popcorn layered with butter.”

The teenage boy dumps the fresh popcorn out to give Erik what he wanted.

“I also want some M&Ms, sour patch kids, and one large soda with one straw.”

“Just the one straw?” The girl asks with a strange expression.

Y/N, being the defensive one, decided to reply for Erik.

“YES. One straw. That’s my man, if we can share body fluids then we-“

“Y/N,” Erik spoke low but with warning, “stop tryna scare the girl off like that. She only 16.”

“17.”

“Whatever.” Both Y/N and Erik spoke in unison without a thought.

Huffing, the girl with her claw nails finished ringing in their total, “It’s gonna be $20.89.”

Erik handed over a fresh $20 dollar bill with some change before grabbing his snacks and popcorn. Y/N took the empty cup to fill up. She mixed grape and orange soda together. Finally back at the car, Erik placed the snacks on the roof of the car, walking to his trunk.

“It’s gonna get a little chilly so let me get the blanket out.”

“It’s the fluffy one right? Not that itchy one?” You ask him to clarify.

“The fluffy one, Y/N. I gotchu, baby, don’t trip.”

You open the door, placing the soda in the cup holder. Erik opens his door, tossing the blanket in the back before entering with the popcorn spilling over in one hand and the candy in the other. You help him out by grabbing the popcorn, placing it within your lap. Unable to help yourself you start eating it, humming in satisfaction at the extra buttery flavor.

“Lost Boys starting in like five minutes.”

———————

Throughout the movie you would steal glances at Erik to see his reaction to the 80s cult classic. So far so good, he actually loved everything about it so far from the aesthetic to the music.

“This is real cool, Y/N. I think you just gave a costume idea for tomorrow night,” he playfully pinched your cheek.

“This is gonna go down in history. Finally you like something I choose to watch for once.”

“It’s only cuz I’m rubbing off on you.” He teases. He just had to turn the conversation back to him.

“I know I’m good looking Y/N,” he was referring to your constant staring, “Take a picture babygirl, it’ll last longer.”

“Fuck you, you ain’t even all that,” you point to the screen, “now pay attention.”

The ending fight scene played through and Erik was so into it he was shouting at the screen. He even cringed a little at some of the deaths and that made you laugh. He was so cute, especially when he was the most chill.

Once the movie finished the both of you decided to go for a bathroom break. Sadly you had to wait in a line to get in which pissed you off because most of the chicks weren’t even in there to use the bathroom. They were either fixing their hair, taking selfies, or applying more makeup because they either gave their man some “suckie suckie” or kissed during most of the movie. Once you got to a stall you groan with disgust. You covered the toilet with so many sheets of toilet paper you would think someone needed to help you from how long it took.

Finally out, Erik gave you a “WTF” look, throwing his hands up.

“The movie is about to start what the fuck was you doing?”

“You not about to play with me it was a long line and the bathroom was stinky and messy.”

“You had me out here telling shorties my girl got a sixth sense whenever some chick tries to talk to me and ain’t no stopping her cuz she got hands.”

You look up at him with a sexy smile, “Ooo, you told them bitches back off, huh?”

He shook his head at you, “Duh. You mines, right?”

Candyman started up the second the both of you reached the car. Inside Erik grabs the blanket, stretching it over the both of you while you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. Candyman was always a fear of your since you were a little girl bout you haven’t seen it in years so you agreed to watch again.

Already you had Erik’s hand in yours, him knowing how afraid you were. He smirks, eyes still on the screen and noticing how jumpy you became during certain scenes.

“Are we gonna have to sleep with the lights on when we get back home, baby girl?”

“Shut up.” You turn away from the gore, “yep, I’m reminded why I don’t like this movie.”

“Whose complaining now? I liked your movie now sit back and enjoy mines.”

“If I leap in your lap DONT get mad.”

Erik half shrugs, “You say it like it’s a problem.”

Things went quiet as the movie continued, your hand squeezing Erik’s from time to time but you watched it all the way through. Once it was over the eerie “The End” in 1920s Hollywood script flashed across the screen in black and white.

“You gotta go pee pee before we leave?” Erik laughs.

“No, we can just go, I’m tired.”

He tossed the blanket in the back seat, turning on his car to leave. Luckily they decided to leave now before the traffic really started up. You ask Erik to play his music on the ride back, curling up in your seat with sleepy eyes.

“Aye, it ain’t your bed time yet. You still gotta do what you promised for me when we get back home.”

You look over at him with sass, “And what’s that?”

“Girl, some pussy, what you think?”

“If I can get that scary ass movie out my head then yeah.”

He throws his head back against his seat with a chuckle, “My fault, baby.”

“Yes, your fault.” You pout, “now I’m gonna have nightmares.”

“Not while I’m around, chump.”

“Next drive in, let’s watch some Romance movies.”

You knew he hated the mushy stuff. Romeo and Juliet was a must see and also Love Jones. You saw the Ad online for those movies at the next drive in.

“I should’ve never told you about this place.” He complains while accelerating down the lane.

[kemifatoba]

Document Journal | Dennis Rodman was Black boy joy before it was acceptable

In 2020, we're all unconsciously dressing like the intrepid, queer-friendly, cross-dressing NBA star...

Like many others, I watched the “The Last Dance”, a Netflix documentary about Michael Jordan and the legendary Chicago Bulls in the ‘90s. Back then, I wasn’t into sports—but I loved Dennis Rodman. A poster of his 1996 autobiography Bad As I Wanna Be hung in my bedroom, and simply looking at this Black superstar athlete—covered in tattoos, with stacked piercings and fluorescent hair, sitting naked on a motorbike—filled me with joy. He looked at the camera and seemed incredibly comfortable with himself, liberated even.

While Michael Jordan was the undeniable superstar of the NBA, it was Dennis Rodman who I always rooted for. I was a young biracial girl who desperately tried to blend into my white surroundings, hoping that conforming to respectability politics would make my life a little easier. Back then, I studied dance at the Vienna Conservatory, and was expected to follow a set of spoken and unspoken rules that dictated how I had to behave both on and off stage. I found these rules to be extremely restrictive and quickly came to the conclusion that professionalism and self-expression were two opposite things that could not be reconciled—and then there was Dennis Rodman, who seemingly didn’t care about any rules. He was an excellent player and did whatever he wanted to do off the court. This level of nonchalance fascinated me and I enjoyed following the news to find out what he was up to next. It certainly never got boring.

“He epitomized Black boy joy decades before it was celebrated as the antidote to toxic Black masculinity.”

During his time at the Chicago Bulls, Dennis Rodman turned himself into a walking performance piece. He epitomized Black boy joy decades before it was celebrated as the antidote to toxic Black masculinity. He made himself vulnerable by talking about his shortcomings, and often burst into tears during interviews—and people loved him for it. But the media also ridiculed and criticized him for his off-court antics, which were deemed unprofessional and disrespectful to the game. While there were many colorful personalities in the music industry back then, such as Michael Jackson, Marilyn Manson, and Courtney Love, it was still highly unusual to see anyone like Dennis Rodman in the world of men’s professional sports. He was unusual, full stop.

Sartorially, Dennis Rodman wasn’t just different, he was way ahead of his time. This fact was cemented in a viral tweet by @cowboybagel who posted a screenshot of Rodman on The Late Show With David Letterman in 1996. He appeared on stage in a sheer, semi-buttoned-up black blouse, black flared lace pants, and his trademark Oakley wraparound sunglasses. His hair was dyed green, and his nails were painted black. He wore a Cuban link chain and two pendants around his neck, two large silver earrings on the left and another one on the right, and his trademark nose rings. “Everyone in 2019 looks like dennis rodman in 1996,” the caption said, and an army of Rodman lookalikes shared selfies to confirm the statement. In a recent conversation with a friend who is a stylist, she declared that seeing Dennis Rodman in The Last Dance gave her fashion inspiration for days. What was considered weird, back then, seems to be perfectly on point today.

everyone in 2019 looks like dennis rodman in 1996 pic.twitter.com/4rMSvH1XDs

— ACAB (@cowboybagel) September 5, 2019

Dennis Rodman was extra. He played into stereotypes and subverted them at the same time. He challenged the confines of masculinity and turned heads in the NBA. He talked about wanting to have sex with men while dating Madonna, Carmen Electra, Vivica A. Fox, and many more women according to his account. In the late ‘90s, neither mental health nor queerness were discussed in sports. Rodman brought those topics to the forefront, though not always in a way that everyone appreciated. He frequented gay clubs and often expressed his solidarity with the LGBT community, most notably at the 1995 playoffs, where he sprayed a red ribbon in his hair to draw attention to AIDS. The move was criticized for using a symbol of disease—instead of a symbol of gay pride, like the triangle or the rainbow—for shock value. His penchant for cross-dressing, which culminated in a media frenzy when he wore a wedding dress at his book launch, also raised questions about the authenticity of his solidarity with the LGBT community. His delivery might have been off, but I always respected Dennis Rodman for speaking up for the gay community at a time when societal prejudice was rife. He didn’t have to use his platform to talk about his sexuality, but he chose to do it, and many LGBT organizations reached out to thank him for representing them in the sports world as a result.

In Bad As I Wanna Be, Rodman addressed a widely-publicized suicide attempt before his time at the Chicago Bulls. He wrote that instead of wanting to harm himself, he “Killed the Dennis Rodman that had tried to conform to what everybody wanted him to be.” The entire world knew about his excessive drinking and partying, and now it also knew about his depression. In the 2019 ESPN documentary Rodman: For better or Worse, he laid everything bare: his complicated relationship with a mother who never showed him love, his absent father, his shyness and naiveté, a period of homelessness, conflicts with the law, the sudden growth spurt that garnered the attention of NBA scouts, his rise to superstardom in the ‘90s, his battle with depression and alcoholism, and where he is now at 59 and a grandfather.

To me, Dennis Rodman was so many things at once: flawed, relatable, and lovable even as he seemed to struggle with loving himself. He was a legendary basketball player, an incredible entertainer, and an accidental hero who kicked the doors open and brought uncomfortable conversation topics to the table. Watching him break out in tears, when he admits that he struggles with being a good father to his children, is saddening and infuriating at the same time, because he risks repeating the same mistakes his parents made—and also because I’m still rooting for him. Dennis Rodman was and still is unique. He practiced self-expression, vulnerability, and nonconformity like nobody else did in the ‘90s, and like only a few men do today, let alone Black superstar athletes.

I was too young to understand a lot of things back when I had a poster of Dennis Rodman in my bedroom, but looking at professional sports today, and the perfectly curated image athletes present to the world, Dennis Rodman still stands out like a colorful butterfly. He was a viral sensation long before the term was coined, and he paved the way for those who unapologetically express their personality and identity today. To this day, watching Dennis Rodman doing his thing reminds me how beautiful self-expression is, and how much joy it can bring others—or, as he summed up his approach to life in a 1997 interview with USA Today, “I just took the chance to be my own man. I just said, ‘If you don’t like it, kiss my ass’ … I’m the guy who’s showing people, ‘Hey, it’s alright to be different.'”

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[jenomark]

Chapter 4

○Pairing: College!Mark x Reader (Female) ○Other Members/ Characters: Renjun. Brief appearances by Johnny & Jeno. ○Genre: fluff & a little angst ○Warnings: X ○Word count: 3,749

→Summary: A new school, no friends, and a boy who unexpectedly runs into you and changes everything.

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 You yanked the seat belt, but it stopped mid-way. You tugged and tugged, your fingers slipping down the material, but it still wouldn’t budge. You gave it a last pull, and the metal part came off in your hands. Without missing a beat, Mark grabbed it from your hand, and threw it on the floor like it was a minor inconvenience. 

“The car is a work in progress,” he said, putting on his glasses. 

“Oh My God, I’m going to die in this car,” you said. “When they scrape my body off the highway, can you tell them I didn’t get into this vehicle voluntarily?”

  Mark smiled to himself. You liked seeing him smile, how his face transformed instantly from it’s usual bewildered look. You found yourself smiling a little, too. You went to lean your head on the headrest as a sign that you were admitting defeat when you realized there wasn’t one.

“Mark Lee,” you whispered. “You are incurable.”

“You won’t die,” he said, starting the car. “I’ll take good care of you. Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” you said, flatly. “We should borrow my mom’s car, or better yet, let’s not go at all.”

Mark put his hands on the steering wheel. “Right. We’re going. “

 You held onto your knees as he put the car in reverse, inching the car back to get out of the tight space he parked in. It sounded like his car was screaming as it moved, a cry of desperation for Mark to learn how to parallel park better. It took many tries for Mark to get out of the parking spot, and in that time, you flipped through your phone, looking at all of the Instagram posts Renjun had put up since the day before.

“He looks so happy.” you said.

  Mark put the car into drive and took off down the street. The metal sound eventually got quieter the faster the car went, but the ride was bumpy.

  Renjun never used his Instagram before college. Once, he had called it a waste of millennial space. He used to mock all of the pictures on your own profile, twisting his body into a pretzel to copy your poses and make a point you never quite understood. Post-high school Renjun loved updating social media. You went through his page and looked at the selfies, candids of his friend group, and an array of food pictures. You didn’t know why seeing all of the content made you feel so lonely, but the feeling itched your body until you scratched it with a rusty nail.

“He’s doing what any college boy would do,” Mark said.  “Maybe a little dorkier than most.”

  Mark looked over at the pictures before putting his eyes back on the road. You thought about asking him if the way you were feeling was normal, but you didn’t know him well enough to make up your mind whether or not you cared about his opinion. 

 “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

 “You’re staring at me. “

“Can I not look at you?”

“Not with that face.”

  You pulled down his visor and looked at your reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at you looked like you, but she didn’t feel like you. Among all of the weird feelings you were having, the sadness that occasionally crept in was front and center. No amount of school, of boys with rings, and weird roommates, could change the fact that, without Renjun, it was hard to cope.

“There isn’t anything wrong with my face.” you said, pushing the visor back up.

  The drive was mostly quiet. Mark put on the stereo, but it was broken and he couldn’t change the station. You had to listen to yeehaw music the whole way, it’s staticky tunes making your head feel like it was going to explode. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“Doing what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Mark sighed. “We’re friends.”

“We are not actually friends.”

“We are not not friends.”

  Mark stopped at a red light. In that part of town, college kids roamed about in droves. Some walked with arms linked, the skin on their faces creased with laughter, and the others huddled books to their chest, heads down and hearts up. You couldn’t stop staring at them, wondering how they lived, and if they did, how deeply they were affected by their problems.

“Do you ever wish you had a normal family life?” you asked. “Like the ones you see on television? A perfect mother, a present father, the bratty younger sibling you hate but secretly would never change, the picturesque house in the suburbs, family Christmases, and I suppose, somewhere in the future, a family of your own. You would never know what a lack of love feels like, never know what it’s like to go without something. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It sounds white,” Mark said. “Also, it doesn’t exist. The family Christmas you’re talking about? Your uncle is on the couch passed out after drinking five beers, your mother is cheating on your father with her Avon catalog, and you? You’re wondering how the other side lives. It’s all the same.”

“That sounds miserable.”

“That’s life.”

  Mark pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off.  You couldn’t get his words out of your head. They swam around, knocking into the sides of your brain and ricocheting off, settling into every dark place you had. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, again.

  Mark grabbed a baseball cap from his back seat and put it on his head. He fluffed the pieces of his hair that were sticking out of the sides. When he wasn’t satisfied, he turned the cap backwards, pulled down the visor to look at himself quickly, and put it back up.

“Honestly?” he asked. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I was bored and had nothing else to do. And I like being around you.”

“You do?”

“No.” he said.

  You rolled your eyes, making sure he could see. He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for it, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he took off his glasses and put them in the glove box. He opened his car door and got out, grabbing a backpack and slinging it on his back before he shut the door. When you tried doing the same, you realized there was a child lock on your door. Mark came around to your side and leaned against his car.

“You really should stop doing that,” he said. “It’s not very becoming.”

“I don’t care,” you said. “Let me out.”

“What will you give me if I let you out?”

“I’ll let you keep your life.”

Mark laughed, slapping his knee as he did. “You’re funny.”

  You tried the door handle again, but it was still locked. Mark went around to the back door and pointed at the hoodie in the backseat.

“Put that on.” he said.

“I’m not wearing your hoodie.”

“You have to blend in,” he said. “You don’t look like a local.”

  You looked down at your clothes. After Mark came to your house, you ran upstairs and got ready, putting on your best dress and slicking your hair back into a neat bun. It was true, you would stick out. Giving up, you reached back and grabbed a plain, forest green hoodie, shrugging it halfway down your body. Mark opened the door and you got out, feeling crabby.

“You look good.” he said.

  Mark pulled the rest of the hoodie down your body with one tug, and gave a nod of appreciation. You wanted to ask why a hoodie made a difference, but you didn’t want to hear his spiel on how much smarter he was than you. 

“Let’s just go.” you said.

 As you made a step forward, a skateboarder flew by, nearly knocking you over. Mark grabbed you in time, pulling you back so you wouldn’t collide. You clutched a hand to your chest. Mark noticed the ring on your finger and swiped his thumb over it.

“Ah, the things we almost die for.” he said.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

  You ignored him and started walking, hugging your arms around your body. You had never been on Renjun’s campus before, not even to tour it. Everything looked much more expensive than your college, it’s buildings looking like they could devour yours. The air had a permanent smell of fresh cut lawns and fancy perfume. You walked up a few stone paths, reading signs that felt like they were leading you around in a circle.

“We’ll stop and ask someone.” Mark said.

“What if they bust us?” you asked, pulling him by his sleeve. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“This school has thousands and thousands of kids, and you think they’ll take one look at us and know we go to a less prestigious school?” he asked.

“They will if they see your shitty car.”

“Funny,” he said. “I’ll ask someone.”

  Mark tried stopping a group of boys, but one boy hit him with his shoulder and kept walking, and the rest of the group laughed. Every time he tried to stop another person, they practically ran away from him. 

“Also,” he said. “My car is not shitty. She’s gotten me through some really rough spots in high school.”

“Maybe it’s the stench coming from you then.” you said.

“You’re seriously so mean to me.”

“Am not.”

  Mark opened his mouth to argue, but a boy interrupted him. He was taller than you both by a good five inches, and the air he gave off was very authoritative. He reminded you of a scary professor, but he was much too young to be anything but a student. Mark, without thinking twice, grabbed your hand and held it. You tried worming your way out of his grip, but he crushed your fingers with his.

“Hello.” Mark said.

“Hi, friend,” the boy said. “Are you lost? Do you attend this school?”

“I do,” Mark said. “We do. Do you go here?”

“You do?” you asked, Mark. 

“I do,” Mark said. “We do. Do do.” 

“Okay,” the boy said. “I’m going to pretend I know what any of that means. Anyway, my name is Johnny Seo. I’m in my last year here, and I’m kind of a big deal. You may have heard of me.”

“No, sorry.” you said.

Johnny continued, “ I help freshmen find their life path, here at this establishment. Are you interested in finding your life path?”

“No, thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly. “We have somewhere to be, a different path.”

“Which is?” Johnny asked.

“Yes,” Mark said. “I would also like to know what path.”

  You swung your arm forward to show Johnny your hand that was glued to Mark’s. Both Johnny and Mark were puzzled and trying to decipher what you meant.

“We’re going to suck each other's face off,” you said. “Because we’re dating. This is what boyfriend and girlfriend do, they hold hands and they suck face.”

“Suck face?” Mark asked. “What are you, from the 90′s?”

“Maybe.”

  Mark rolled his eyes, which made you point dramatically at him. He let go of your hand and threw his arm around Johnny.

“We’re actually going to study,” Mark said. “Education is important to us, you see. Our life path is learning, Johnny. You may have heard of it.”

“Studying,” Johnny said. “Right. My program offers a great place for studying that makes everything stress free. If you just follow me, I can show you.”

“We have to go,” Mark said, removing his arm. “We have to go suck face.”

“What?” you asked.

  Mark took your arm and started pulling you backwards. Johnny looked from him to you, his eyes narrowing when he locked eyes with you. Mark kept pulling until you started moving, and then you both broke out into a run, clearing a lot of distance between you and Johnny. Mark led you around another corner that brought you to a small building with darkened windows.

“He was suspicious.” Mark said.

“How? “

“I think it’s because of your hoodie.” Mark said.

  You playfully pushed Mark. The laugh that escaped from his mouth made you feel a pang in your chest that passed as quickly as it had come. He leaned against a brick wall to catch his breath. You looked back around the corner to see Johnny trying to get other students on his life path.

“I’m not sure his life path didn’t include drugs.” Mark said.

“Likely,” you said. “But he might have been legit. Renjun told me that everyone where he lives is really normal.”

“And he lives where? How do you not know where he lives?” Mark asked. “He’s your best friend.”

“We never talked about it.”

“What do you talk about?”

 You tried searching your brain for what you talked about over the phone, but you couldn’t come up with anything substantial. You figured he would have told you once or twice where exactly he lived, but Renjun mostly kept quiet when you talked. You always assumed it was because he wanted to get back to his friends instead of talking to you on a Saturday night.

“We always just talk about me.” you said.

“Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“Are you really that oblivious?” he asked. “Forget I said anything.”

  You walked back to Mark and put your hands on your hips. You tried to seem threatening, like you would beat it out of him if he didn’t tell you, but your bravado faded as soon as he smiled.

“I can take it,” you said. “Tell me.”

“Fine. You only talk about yourself, “ he said. “I don’t mean to call you out, but it’s what I’ve noticed.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re quick to defend yourself,” he said. “But you know I’m right. You don’t know where your best friend lives because all you talk about are your problems. Think about it. You inserted yourself into my life because of something you had a problem with. That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“That’s not-”

“-What do you know about me then?”

“You live with your parents.”

“And?”

“You drive.”

“You’re getting colder,” he said.

  You looked down at the ground in shame. Hearing something truthful about yourself always hurts, especially when it comes from people you barely know.  If they can see your flaws so easily, what else can the people who know you see, and better yet, why did they still stick around? Is that why your dad left? He saw the real you and figured out how much he didn’t need you in his life. You had a lot of deep-rooted issues you had yet to solve, and although you weren’t fully aware of what Mark said, he was right. Ever since you can remember, you’ve been so focused on yourself and losing who that person is,  you’ve neglected everyone else.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“But I want to.”

“I didn’t mean for this to be…” he said. “I have issues too, okay. I live with my parents because I’m terrified of being on my own. I wrote my ex that letter that day because I didn’t want to face my own self. It’s a hard world out there, and we’re all just trying our best.”

 You leaned against the wall with Mark. Your shoulder touched his, but there wasn’t anything intimate about it. He felt comfortable, safe.The two of you stayed like that for a little while until Mark peeled himself from the brick and held out his hand.

“Let’s go find him.” he said. 

“He won’t want to see me.”

“We’re not doing the pity thing,” he said. “Let’s get it.”

  When you didn’t immediately take his hand, Mark waved it about impatiently. You rolled your eyes, which you know he hated, and walked on without him. He followed behind, keeping his distance as you looked around at all of the buildings. You stopped someone for directions on your own. His name was Jeno, and he was very accommodating. He walked both you and Mark to the student dorms, which were massive buildings that felt more like a maze than living spaces.

‘“Thank you,” you told Jeno. When he left, you turned to Mark. “We’ll never find him in this place.”

“Maybe we can just call his name three times and he’ll poke his head out of one of these windows.” Mark said.

You sighed. “Nothing is ever easy, is it.”

“Wouldn’t be fun if it were,” Mark said. “Come on, we’ll just walk the floors until we find him, ask around, and maybe we’ll find him quicker than we think. You said he’s pretty popular, right?”

“He said he made a lot of friends.”

“Great,” Mark said. “Nothing better than two losers walking into a den of lions.”

 You started walking forward and remembered that you had a phone in your pocket. Mark slapped his forehead and told you that you should have just texted him from the start.

You: Renjun, what floor do you live on?

Renjun: What? Why?

You: Don’t worry about it. Tell me what floor you live on.

Renjun: You’re not here, are you?

You: I’m home. 

You: Junie, Are you there?

Renjun: Why do you need to know?

You: Why are you being so secretive?

Renjun: I’m not, liar.

You: Please, just tell me.

Renjun: No. Why don’t you tell me about the boy you’ve been hanging around with first.

You: Me? A boy? Renjun, I’m offended.

Renjun: I called your house. Your mom told me a boy came to pick you up. She said his name was Mark.

Renjun: Is Mark your new best friend?

Renjun: Is he handsome?

Renjun: Your mother likes him. I don’t know how I feel about that.

  You showed the conversation to Mark. Mark squinted since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He read to the very last text, and then looked back up at you.

“Are you going to answer him?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“No, I mean, about if I’m handsome.”

  You snatched the phone from Mark’s hand and looked back at the messages. It was normal for Renjun to question any new people in your life. You hadn’t mentioned Mark before, and like Mark had brought to your attention, all you ever did was talk about yourself.

You: He’s the ugliest boy I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

You: He stinks, too.

You: And he’s Canadian.

  You made sure Mark saw what you wrote before you turned off your phone and put it back into your pocket. He didn’t give you a witty remark, just fixed the hat on his head and bent the brim a little. 

“How did you know I’m Canadian?” he asked.

“Your notebook,” you said. “Mark Lee, contrary to belief, I know you better than you think I do.”

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” Mark said. “Not only are you selfish, but you’re nosy. I forgot to include that important point.”

“How can I be selfish and so concerned with others at the same time?” you asked. “Doesn’t that cancel each other out.”

“You’re an interesting person.”

“Glad you think so.”

“No, “ he said. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  You entered the building. Mark kept talking and trailing behind you, his words spiraling out of control. You ignored him, looking at the nameplate on the doors you passed. Some of them were decorated with foam letters, the crooked names looking more like the door for a Kindergarten classroom that a dorm. Others had been tagged with permanent markers, with red solo cups taped to the wood. It was a male dorm, and it smelled just like it.

“I feel like I’m not supposed to be here.” you said.

“And you think you’re the first girl that’s walked through these halls?”

“I don’t want to think about it at all.”

  The halls were mostly clear except for a few boys passing through, shower caddies or textbooks in their hands. No one looked at either of you as they walked by. It was as if the two of you didn’t exist, which was much different from the way Renjun had painted the people at his school to be. Over phone calls, he mentioned how everyone was friendly, and how the environment was welcoming, even introverts like him felt accepted.

“Elevator,” Mark said. His hand shot out, holding the big doors so they wouldn’t close. The muscles and veins in his arms popped out, giving you a full display of how built Mark really was. “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

  You walked into the elevator. Mark slipped in, going immediately to the railing to hold on. You watched as his knuckles gripped the bar until they were white. He scrunched his face and closed his eyes. You hit the button for floor number 2, not tearing your eyes away from him.

“Are you okay, Mark?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The elevator doors should have opened at 2, but they stayed closed. You realized that you had hit floor 12, instead. When Mark opened his eyes for a split second and noticed your blunder, he winced.

“I need you to do me a favor,” he said. “One favor. An exchange, really.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“I need you to hold me.”

“You need me to do what now?”

“Hold me,” he said. “ Please, hold me.”

 You rushed Mark and took him in your arms. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder, tucking his face into your neck. You held him around his middle, your hands pressed against his back. His arms snaked around your body and pulled you tighter to him. You had never been that close to a boy in your life except for Renjun, but definitely never so close that you could feel every bit of his body against yours.

“Are you going to be okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have childhood trauma from elevators.”

“Why did we get into one?” you asked. “I would have taken the stairs.”

“I did it for you.” he said.

 You closed your eyes and buried your own face into Mark’s neck. As the elevator made it to floor 12, the doors opened, revealing Renjun.

“What the fuck?” Renjun said.

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord II text Roman & Aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @romanbeckett​

Mentions: @davieslandon​ @malakhai-ozera​ @jayceelynd​ @alison-haynes​

Where: Aaron is at his house and Roman is at his house.

When: evening of May 26th-monrning of May 27th, 11:30p-2:30a

Description: Roman texts Aaron and they talk all night until they both fall asleep

Trigger Warnings: smut, what I would imagine harry’s peen to look like, really cute shit

Roman.

Hey.

Aaron.

hi

Roman.

Khai broke up with me, so. With us.

with Jay and I. And he left.

Aaron.

oh my god...im sorry Ro

Roman.

Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.

Aaron.

what did he say? Like why...?

Roman.

He told us that he loved us but needed time to work on himself or whatever.

Aaron.

I don’t know Khai that well but it does seem like he’s got a lot of shit to figure out

how are you doing with it?

and jayc? Should I reach out to her or....does she not know we’re talking

Roman.

you can talk to her if you want. I think we both just don’t really know how to feel to be honest.

Aaron.

im sorry

i hope he's okay

and i hope you and Jayc are okay too

Roman.

don’t be lol honestly Aaron, I set myself up for it the second I agreed to close myself off, knowing all of the issues I need to work through as well

contrary to popular belief, I’m far from having it all figured out.

Aaron.

that makes two of us

that was quick tbh

Roman.

Yeah. I just feel like an idiot.

Aaron.

what no....thats not what i meant

Roman.

anyway.

how are you

Aaron.

okay....no please dont feel like an idiot. its his fault not yours

im....okay....getting better than i was last week

miss you though not gonna lie

Roman.

I miss you, too. A lot.

Aaron

:(

im sorry

idk why i am i just feel like i need to apologize

Roman.

you have nothing to be sorry for lol at all

if anything, I’m sorry.

for bringing you into all this drama

and making you eat at a Chinese buffet lol

Aaron.

making me eat at a Chinese buffet is the only thing you have to be sorry for

also

i inserted myself into this mess as well. and didn't pull out once i realized who you were to landon

Roman.

does it make me immature if I laugh at you saying you didn’t pull out once?

Aaron.

RO

YES BUT IM HERE FOR IT

Roman.

I might just be high, but now I can’t stop laughing lol

Aaron.

sksjks

im sober and laughing so

well not sober

i had a few drinks

Roman.

everyone knows you’re a lightweight Aaron, stop tryin’ to be sly lol

Aaron.

who you callin a lightweight, lightweight?

Roman.

only when I haven’t eaten anything LIGHTWEIGHT

Aaron.

https://tenor.com/view/uncalled-gif-5394176

michelle tanner voice

Roman.

You miss me. Just a reminder.

Aaron.

you miss me

another reminder

Roman.

I’m not the one calling you rude lol

Aaron.

you called me out for being a lightweight and i retaliated

forgive me

Roman.

you’re in denial is what you are :fingerguns2:

but I’ll forgive you.

Aaron.

idk you'd think for how much i drink i'd have a higher tolerance

i need therapy

Roman.

probably lol I’ll go with you

Aaron.

lol couples counseling?

jk

jk

Roman.

I actually think it would be quite funny to see what they have to say about US

Aaron.

i need a therapist to tell it like it is

then again i do have ali

that woman calls me out on my shit literally daily

maybe shes just a free therapist

Roman.

LMAO that’s...amazing. I like her already.

Aaron.

she do be driving me up a wall

but

shes family

Roman.

Ah, family. I’ve been trying to get my sister here, but she’s being an ass lol

Aaron.

asshat

who wouldn’t want to move to New York

Roman.

satans demons.

Aaron.

exactly

whats keeping her from coming?

Roman.

she’s not as hellbent on big cities as I am lol

Aaron.

weird

city life has always been for me

arent you from manchester? is that not a big city?

Roman.

it’s not New York lol

she lives in the country now though.

Aaron.

no city is new york

Roman.

exactly lol

Aaron.

what are you doing

besides getting high

Roman.

I’m naked on the couch eating cherry gilato while watching good mythical morning on YouTube

Aaron.

i would very much like to be naked on a couch with you

Roman.

I painted my nails and did a facial first lol i could do yours as well

Aaron.

ill take the facial

i couldn't pull off the nails though

Roman.

you’d look so kickass with some black nails

Aaron.

you think?

Roman.

hell yes. Even a sky blue, like those eyes

Aaron.

i blush

maybe we can try the toe nails first

in case I end up hating them

Roman.

OH, I’m also trained in Swedish massage, head to toe. If you want a personal spa day

Aaron.

that would just give me a boner

Roman.

well, it’s a FULL body massage after all.

Aaron.

sksjsks

dont tempt me

Roman.

Aaron. I just.

is it bad that I don’t want to stay away from you anymore?

that’s a dumb question

I know it’s bad.

Aaron.

its not dumb

I don’t want to stay away from you either

but I promised Landon

Roman.

I know. So did I.

You’re right, I’m sorry.

Aaron.

he’s my best friend

dont be sorry

im glad you’re being honest with me

I just don’t see Landon being okay with this anytime soon

Roman.

I know! I know. He’s mine too, and I care about him more than I care to admit. I shouldn’t be like this.

Aaron.

damn this is fucked up

Roman.

I shouldn’t have said anything

Aaron.

I wish this could be easier

im the one that started with the boner references

Roman.

Not really. I offered you a massage

Aaron.

okay yes but

I told you I wanted to be naked with you

Roman.

because I said I was naked

Aaron.

I just don’t want you blaming yourself that’s all

Roman.

I know, but it is what it is. I made a mess of everything, and now everything I had is ruined lol I deserve it.

Aaron.

Ro

I’m sad you think so little of yourself

Roman.

I don’t. It’s just consequences. I made bad decisions, and now I have to deal with the consequences. That’s all. It’ll all be okay.

Aaron.

I wish I could make you feel better

Roman.

you already do. I promise.

Aaron.

I just smiled

Roman.

show me?

Aaron.

sure

Roman.

omg bad idea my heart

Aaron.

oop

Roman.

you’re so fucking jahshsbzjdndjendj

Aaron.

AKDJDJAKALhdja

Roman.

I’m mad at you

for looking like that

Aaron.

Well i can’t stop thinking about u

Roman.

let me just

Aaron.

yeah I kept drinking

and as we’ve established I’m a lightweight

okay I showed you a selfie now you should be a selfie

Roman.

oh yeah? Trying to boss me around again are ya?

Aaron.

do what daddy says

Roman.BOTToday at 2:02 AM

yes daddy.

Aaron.

brb gotta go jack off

Roman.

stoppppp

Aaron.

not kidding

Roman.

you don’t need a better picture than that to do the deed

??? Lolll

Aaron.

I mean....you could send me some

Roman.BOTToday at 2:09 AM

Does this help?

Aaron.

holy fuck

ugh I wanna fuck you so bad

and put all of you in my mouth

Roman.

I want it too. I shouldn’t, but I do. I want you to fuck me with my hands tied behind my back, and you pulling on my collar from behind.

Aaron.

fuck don’t put those thoughts in my head or I’ll act up

I wanna tie you up so bad

and punish you for being so naughty

Roman.

I’d want to call out your name so loud, but you’d have to let me.

Aaron.

you can’t do anything without my permission

Roman.

I’ll do my best daddy. You know I like to make you proud.

Aaron.

Ro I just came into a sock so hard

I want you so bad but the fact I can’t have you makes that even hotter to me

Roman.

forbidden fruit, hm?

Aaron.

you’re my forbidden fruit for sure

Roman.

wish I could have been there to help

Aaron.

you did enough helping trust me

Roman.

are we terrible people lol

Aaron.

I know

we are

im trying though

so that’s gotta count for something

Roman.

I hope it does, for both our sakes lol

Aaron.

if this doesn’t work out we can always be together in hell

Roman.

that sounds like a rightful ending

at least I’ll be tan.

Aaron.

we’ll both be hot and tan chilling in hell together

and we can fuck all we want

Roman.

sounds like the next big Netflix series.

Aaron.

could you imagine a Netflix series about us

Roman.

no, I’m scared to lol it would be more insane than Tiger King

Aaron.

you think our lives are more insane than Tiger King?!?

Roman.

scary, right??

Aaron.

thats definitely...quite the comparison

Roman.

I would have loved to have seen your face watching it for the first time

Aaron.

watching that together would have been so fun

I can picture us watching that and freaking out together

Roman.

maybe one night we’ll trip acid and watch it again

Aaron.

confession I’ve never tripped before

Roman.

whaaaaaa

do it with me!

Aaron.

I mean yeah I used to do a lot of coke when I got drunk and sometimes still do but that been the extent of my drug use

hahaha I will trip with you, Roman Beckett

Roman.

aces! Just tell me when and where, and it’s a plan!

Aaron.

”aces”

but yeah let’s do it this weekend

Roman.

I’m British you knob. Shut up lol

Aaron.

I know MATE I was making fun of you

Roman.

sends long audio clip making fun of Aaron’s New York accent

Aaron

brooooo

I do say that though

Roman.

I know, I’ve listened to you talk enough

it’s cute though

ready for bed?

Aaron.

just about

I was gonna go to bed a while ago but wanted to keep texting you

Roman.

same.

tuck me in lol

Aaron.

do u want me to tell you a bedtime story

Roman.

yes, but make it snappy

and I want warm milk

Aaron.

damn

so bossy

but okay

Roman.

you know I’m spoiled.

Aaron.

that must’ve been my fault

okay Des like this one:

By the African river, know as the Nile The sun fell away and it rested a while The rhinos had braved all the smoldering heat They lay down to sleep as they wiped off their feet The elephants marched to their elephant beds And gently they rested their elephant heads Slowly the hippos sank into the river The water so cold that it gave them a shiver (Hippos can't swim, like the pelicans think They also can't float, they could easily sink) The hippos went bathing in cool, shallow pools Thinking the rhinos and elephants fools Underwater, they fell to the soft river bed On darkish green plants with a smidgen of red They strolled on the bottom, then bounced up for air They did it for hours, without any care The fish followed closely, and wove in an out Under their belly, and up to their snout Each of the hippos came up to the shore To feed on the grass by the river once more They dried off their bodies by shaking and stomping And took bites of grass, chewing and chomping With night fading fast, they were full from the feast The sun returned back, rising up form the east The hippos crept off to collapse for the day While rhinos and elephants got up to play Enjoying the warmth of the sun and its light Never knowing the story of hippos at night

just read it in my New York accent you’re so good at

goodnight Lois

Roman.

that was perfect. Goodnight Clark.

[rileyyxkim]

Intro &&/ Riley Kim ♕

( Brian Kang, cismale ) hey ! have you seen RILEY KIM around ? HE works as an ESTHETICIAN at big bear resort, but they must be off their shift by now. well, if you do see them can you let me know ? they’re 25 years old & they’ve been working here for TWO YEARS. they tend to be +PLAYFUL & +CARING, but can also be -DRAMATIC & -FORGETFUL. the other employees have labeled them THE DRAMA KING. thanks a lot ! ( fingers in soft hair, post-it notes on a mirror, aromatic candles in a minimalist room & paragraph long text messages ) [Backy, 25, MST, She/Her]

Hey friends! My name is Backy and this is my brand new muse Riley ★ Let’s get started, shall we? 

♕ The Basics ♕

★ Full Name: Seyeon “Riley” Kim ★ Age: 25 ★ Birthday: December 19 ★ Languages: English, Korean, minimal Japanese & French  ★ Education: Certified esthetician & nail technician  ★ Occupation: part-time esthetician @ Arabelle Spa, full-time drama king  ★ Hobbies: Guitar, snowboarding, singing, shenanigans, chaos 

♕ The In-Depth ♕

★ MBTI: ENFP ★ Blood type: B+ ★ Zodiac: Sagittarius  ★ Sexuality: Bisexual ★ Drinking, smoking, drugs: Yes, yes, yes (all socially)  ★ Talent claim / Faceclaim: Brian Kang ★ Likes: Fashion, working, his face, stargazing, candles, small animals, coffee (black), being dramatic, cuddling, napping, spicy food, alt. & rock music.  ★ Dislikes: Nit-picky clients, being cold, an empty bed, overly sugary food, children, itchy sweaters, crocs, being ignored, & country music. 

♕ The Personality ♕

★ Playful: Riley is spontaneous and like most, he enjoys having a good time around the people he likes. Hardly says no to anything and is always joyful and happy - unless he starts being dramatic of course (usually in good fun). Sasses with a smile and jokes around - sometimes at the expense of others, never at the expense of himself. Will turn around insults in a heartbeat and rarely actually takes things personaly (despite what he says). He’s too full of himself to do it and likes to praise himself with a joking tone (probably started as a joke but he actually believes it now).  ★ Caring: Despite being full of himself and having a generally pompous attitude, Riley does actually care about his friends and is always reliable to be a strong shoulder to cry on when things get serious. He has infinite comfort items (the life of a spa worker) and always knows how to make someone feel better. He gives good hugs and always has snacks on hand for such occasions, even if he dramatically hands them over like you’ve taken his kidney. Riley secretly loves doting on other people, even if he’s the one demanding attention most of the time. He likes to think he’s good at giving advice and is definitely good at keeping secrets (mostly because he keeps forgetting what people have told him). 

★ Dramatic: Dramatic might as well be his middle name. It’s his thing. We’re not talking your run of the mill gossipy drama, he doesn’t care much about that. What he does care about is how dropping his coffee is the end of the world or how he’ll die if he doesn’t get his hands on a burger right this damn minute. Also, get your ass over here and cuddle him or he swears he’ll explode. Everything is a show and the show must go on. Was probably a theatre kid in his past life. Although not his original intentions, he can’t deny the fact that it also gets him a fair amount of attention (good or bad, he doesn’t really care) and has been known to use it to his advantage.  ★ Forgetful: Not only forgetful, but also leaves his things everywhere. Someone should ducktape his valuables to him. The only thing he manages to consistently keep on him is his phone. How else can he take selfies or send paragraph-long text messages about how cruel the world is? Once found his keys in the fridge and a packet of ketchup in his pocket and frequently “loses” his wallet when drinking at the bar. Has post-its on hand always to write things down. He’s not your typical idiot, he has common sense, just lacks the brain cells associated with memory. Reliable in the here and now but will probably forget if you ask for a favor and can’t be expected to remember small details. He frequently mixes up names and forgets the order of events. Did it happen yesterday or two years ago? It doesn’t matter he already forgot. 

♕ The History ♕

★ o1. Riley grew up in your average Korean household with a smattering of siblings, only moving to the states in his late teens. He’s been attending, and now working at, the resort for many years and it has since become his home. He used to avidly snowboard at the resort when his family spent time there and he enjoyed most of the activities the place had to offer. Although young, excited, and learning the ways of being dramatic, he found himself spending more and more time at the spa questioning the ladies on skincare and other beauty-related tips. Even now, he’s never felt like it was really that feminine of a thing. Gender norms be damned, when you look like your best self you also feel it too. 

★ o2.  Although his parents were the ever-loving and doting type, they were strictly traditional and life was wholly unexciting. Cue the dramatics. Riley wasn’t just interested in the spa, but also every aspect that came along with beauty and self-care. He wanted to learn it all. Of course, his parents weren’t exactly supportive of his decision but he made absolutely sure to put in the right amount of pouting and speeches to make them come around and get his ticket to an esthetician school. Besides, he had an older sibling taking over the family company and his parents had the funds to toss at his hobbies, even if it was just to shut him up. His only regret is taking so long to learn that being dramatic has a certain pull on people.  ★ o3. It wasn’t that Riley ended up on bad terms with his parents or anything. He just doesn’t find the excitement in living simply or following societal rules. As soon as he finished school he got the work experience and eventually became a renowned esthetician and beautician. Despite being a drama king, he was exceptionally talented at getting people to relax and giving beauty advice to clients so he took that opportunity and ran with it. As soon as the job opening at the resort opened, Riley wasted no time in applying and laying on the charm to get it. He still visits his family on occasion and they can be seen around the resort from time to time. 

★ o4. These days, Riley can mostly be found working at the spa but has also recently taken up guitar and singing to occupy himself when he’s bored. Though not into snowboarding as much as he used to be, he still takes the odd spin on the slopes in his free time (he kind of hates the cold though, go figure). He manages to turn off the dramatics long enough to do his job and actually quite enjoys it since he can dote on his clients and make people feel like their best selves on the outside, but on the inside too. Besides, even though he’s giving his attention to the clients, they may or may not give him a little attention in return.  

♕ The Wanted Connections ♕

★ Ducktape. - Someone who stops him from forgetting things. Has to remind him about basic things like putting on shoes before leaving the house or straight up taping everything to him so he doesn’t leave it somewhere. His metaphorical and literal ducktape.  Taken By Ian (Kit) ★ Vibe Check. - Someone who not only handles his dramatic ass but also knows how to take him down a notch when he needs it. Reminds him to chill tf out because tbh he’s extra always. Taken by Aylie (Hailz) ★ BFFL. - Someone who’s equally as chaotic or even more so than he is. Drama level over 9000. Like adding rocket fuel to fire.  Taken by Leo (Miki)  ★ The Confidant. - Someone he can spill his secrets to. He’s generally an open book but doesn’t always openly say how he’s feeling either, just about his experiences. Someone he actually talks about emotions to even if it’s not mutual or a friendly type of relationship.  Taken by Cleo (Jocey) ★ Platonic Cuddles. - He might be kind of a hoe but he also just really likes cuddles and hugs. He has infinite comfort items so come abuse them. No one is safe tbh ★ Friends. - Open to multiple of all types (unlikely, one-sided, childhood, mom, etc.). Taken by Callie (Simran), Ivan (Jude), Ian (Kit), Aylie (Hailz), Charlotte (Diana), Rumor (Hannah), Marco (Dana), Roman (Iris)  ★ Flings, Hookups, FWBs. - Open to multiple. Taken by Leo (Miki)  ★ Romance. - A hoe, but now a hoe with feelings. Potentially open to multiple and different types (one-sided, crush, hookups with feels, etc.). Taken by Leo (Miki // Endgame), Charlotte? (Diana // Tinder match), Wren (Reed // Flirty enemies) ★ Enemies. - Riley is dramatic but not to the point he’s actually mad about something. It would take a lot to make him your actual enemy but I’m open to suggestions or different types! Taken by Jo (Jude), Wren (Reed // Flirty enemies) ★ Family. - Open to multiple with appropriate fcs (siblings, cousins, etc.). 

And that’s it!! If you got this far kudos. Looking forward to plotting with everyone. Drop me a DM on discord or like up this post and I’ll get back to you.  Cheers! 

[chwrpg]

Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

cailin, (she/her), 25, est

DESIRED CHARACTER:

queen mother, dylan davenport

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8-10

SECONDARY CHOICE:

taylor flick

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.)‌ Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.

SAMPLE WRITING:

( Alexa, play Daddy )

The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.

So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet  on Oprah. But like she’d taught  Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.

All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.

( Alexa, play Wannabe )

Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.

The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.

“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.

( Alexa, play Successful )

Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.

The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!”‌ Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What?‌ A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.

“I found it! I found the perfect space.”‌ Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.

All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.

“Honey, let me explain…..”

There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.

( Alexa, play Ring Off )

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985.