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hellfireclubofficial · 2 years

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𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟

concept board | soundtrack

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 -> youre the only person who knows eddie's big secret- well, you, your little brother dustin, and all of his friends.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 7.6k

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> eddie munson x henderson!reader, gender neutral!reader

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 -> werewolf au, starts angsty, gets fluffy, gets kinda smutty, gets angsty again, and the cycle repeats bc im unstoppable, lots of cursing, ex boyfriend!steve, secret relationship trope, weapons, lots of blood mentions, little bit of violence (?), unexplicit depictions of sex (id rate it like 17+), eddie being a little shit, henderson sibling dynamic for the win, robin and steve dicking around, let me know if i missed anything. i havent even read the full thing myself bc im scared

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 -> thank you all for being so patient with me while i pulled this out of my ass. love you guys for real <3 be sure to check out the concept board and playlist linked at the top too !! i think theyre cool and i have decent opinions

saturday

by the time you arrived, the group had already debriefed, and they looked at you with the same mixture of concern and confusion that ted and karen did when you knocked on their door.

the stairs creaked with every careful step you took. it was difficult to make a subtle entrance when you were possibly several hours late to a meeting that was, evidently, very urgent. the fear that pulsed through your body when your mother relayed a message to you from your brother, one that was A) not particularly kind and B) possibly dooming.

"you look like shit," dustin noted when he saw the smudges of dirt on your jeans, paired with the dried blood on your hands and the bits of twigs in your hair, "and way to be on time. does 'code red' mean nothing to you?"

"i dont carry a walkie with me everywhere, dustin," you narrowed your eyes at him, an action to which he responded with a middle finger, "i actually have a life."

"is that why you look like you slept in a cave?" dustin smiled proudly at his taunt, but he made a fair point. suddenly, you became extra aware of just how disheveled your hair was, and you tried to dust some of the mud from your pants.

if it were just dustin, youd have left him thinking that, yeah, you did sleep in a cave, but everyone was there: lucas, max, nancy, robin, and even steve, whom you hadnt really spoken to all that much since things went south between the two of you. in all fairness, he didn't look too pleased to be there, either, nor did he look like he was going to put up with your bullshit. his arms were permanently crossed as he loomed in the corner, leaning on the arm of the couch and as far from you as he could get.

"im sorry that im late, guys, really, but-"

"but nothing," steve interjected, "no offense, y/n, but we have bigger problems than your midnight scavenger hunt or whatever the hell you were doing."

"i dont think thats true, but okay," you breathed a laugh before realizing that everyone was staring you down, and not in a haha-y/n-is-making-a-joke way- they were burning holes in you. your laugh got caught in your throat, "wait, bigger how?"

nancy scooted her chair at the small table over to make room for you, and, as you stepped down off the stairs, the items on the table became clearer: a bear trap, a torch, a shotgun, and a new can of farah fawcett spray.

"the demogorgon is back," max sighed, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how many times your eyes flickered from hers to the weapons on the table, "i heard it last night near my place, and mike and nancy said they heard it here, as well."

"it was loud," nancy piped up after you looked to her for confirmation, "scratching around, but it was different somehow."

"we think, maybe, one got left behind when joyce closed the gate and, i dont know, adapted to hawkins," robin lifted and dropped her palms onto the tabletop in confusion.

you were confused, too. you watched all the creatures from the upside down shrivel up and turn to dust as soon as the gate began to close, so it didnt make sense for one to somehow adapt. slowly, you began to put the pieces together, weaving flashes from the previous night together to realize what was actually going on. it frightened you to your core.

before you could open your mouth to speak, steve reached for the can of hairspray, shaking it vigorously back and forth, just how it says to in the directions printed on the back, "maybe the son of a bitch hibernated. now its hungry, and im not gonna wait around for it to eat."

talk erupted of plans to set up a trap in both locations, stakeouts, buying ammunition, getting gasoline for the fire trails- you tried to interject, but kept getting talked over.

"i say we go to max's tonight, since she heard it first," lucas added.

"guys-"

"yeah, this demogorgon is going down," dustin chimed in, handing lucas his trusty slingshot from the table, "for real this time."

"hold on, guys-"

"were gonna need bait," robin said, more like asked, cocking her head towards steve who replied with a series of small nods and a snap in her direction, "oh, yep! were gonna need a shit ton of raw meat."

"that wasnt a demogorgon," you finally croaked, loud enough to shut everyone up. it helped that you also moved from your place at the table and back to the stairs, blocking steve from his impromptu grocery run. the step gave you the height advantage over him, "that was something else, someone."

silence is hard to read. did they believe you? did they think you were messing with them? you liked to have fun, but not during a code red. that meant nothing to them. being late erased any form of reliability you had left, and everyone was too serious to give you the benefit of the doubt. especially steve.

"thats very funny, y/n," he gave you a fake smile, gentle eyes squinted and determined. you knew if you didnt move, hed move you, pick you up by your shoulders and slide right by you.

"im not joking, steve," you said, squaring , "i usually am, but not this time."

it was never easy keeping secrets, let alone secrets about secrets.

"what do you mean, 'someone?'" asked nancy, her brows furrowed, and rightfully so with all the nonsense you just spilled in front of her, in front of everyone.

"the sound you guys heard last night wasnt a demogorgon," you restated, taking a deep breath before finishing, "it was eddie."

voices in unison exclaimed, confused, "munson?"

it was important to note the way steves jaw tensed at the mere mention of his name. he had always been the jealous type, and its exactly why you broke up with him. sweet little steve turned into a major pain in your ass. maybe it was because he liked you, or maybe it was because he just hated everyone else. you liked him better as a friend anyhow.

and it was good, too, since you two had a common factor: dustin. your little brother was also one of his closest friends, in the least weird way. it was how you met steve, through dustin, but it was also how you met eddie.

steve breathed a laugh, almost a scoff, and turned his back to you, a reaction you would have never predicted. he threw his hands up in defeat, landing them on his hips, "alright."

your face contorted with confusion, "really?"

"no, y/n," steve turned back around to you, briefly startling you and, clearly, everyone else in the room. the air became a little thicker, like fog as you held your breath. he laughed again, "hell no."

"you honestly want me to believe that eddie 'the freak' munson is running around on all fours in the goddamn woods growling and shit like a demogorgon?" steve asked, nearly choking on a laugh in the middle of his sentence. his hands waved when he talked, motioning towards the window before they found themselves back on his waist.

every eye in the room was either widened as far as it could stretch or covered with a disappointed palm. they thought you were lying, your friends. you were never one to lie, ever. a fib here or there for comedic effect, maybe, but a bold faced lie was not on your list of tricks. all you could do was dig.

"more like a, uh," you gulped, "demo-dog."

"jesus christ," steve mumbled and rubbed his temples.

the room filled with sighs and similar muttered exclamations of irritation as it typically did when you suggested a theory. in all fairness, you werent always right on the money, but this was different. you didnt blame them for not believing you, though.

"y/n, im going to need you to be a little bit clearer," robin sat up straight in her chair, giving you her best comforting and patient smile, "about the dog part, i mean."

"yeah, a lot clearer," steve added, "because i dont think i like what im thinking."

you crossed your arms over your chest under all the scrutiny, "steve, i know it sounds crazy, but-"

"crazy?," steve laughed, running a hand through his hair, one of his more admirable habits, "no, crazy doesnt cut it. honestly, the image of him doing that for fun is not that outlandish, but if youre trying to tell me eddie munson is a werewolf, y/n, youre out of your mind."

it was a tense moment, then and there, with steve teetering even closer to hating your guts and everyone else terrified of possibly feeling the same. all you could do was shrug, uncrossing your arms, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, and striping the dried mud with new moisture. you sighed,

"then i guess im out of my mind, harrington."

friday

youd never been to the hideout before. social gatherings of any kind werent really your scene unless they had to be. in fact, the smell of the hideout alone was enough to keep you away, a thick fog of sweat, booze, and smoke. it crawled under the door as you pulled it open and stepped inside.

it was small, intimate, despite the weekend drinkers that packed in like sardines. there was quite a bigger crowd than the usual five that hung around on tuesdays, or so youd been told. the soft hum of conversations floated over of the sound of microphone feedback as you wove your way closer to the front of the room.

showing up was a last minute decision. your friday nights are best spent in your bed, alone, and in something much more comfortable than the clothes you were wearing. you pinched yourself every time you picked up an item of clothing and thought about whether or not eddie would like it, as if he didnt drool over you regardless. still, you dressed to impress, and it worked.

"holy shit," eddie deadpanned as he stepped off the shallow drop from the stage onto the main floor, his hair bouncing off his sweat soaked shoulders as he trotted to you, "look who finally decided to show. you missed, like, most of the set by the way."

"wait, actually," his eyes lit up as he raised a finger into the air in faux contemplation, dismissing the thoughts just as fast as they arrived, "you know what- i dont even care. just glad youre here."

that was a bit of an exaggeration- you were only twenty minutes late. when you made it to the front, eddie was lost in his own version of reality, fingers dancing on wires. thats how you knew he didnt notice the exact time you arrived. when he played, he ditched the old picture-everyone-in-their-underwear stagefright trick and opt for something a little bit stranger, as expected. he told you about it once, and you tried to forget. but, alas, something that absurd was permanently seared into your mind.

it made it kind of difficult to support him from the front row when you knew he was picturing you as a centaur.

"i didnt want you to mentally horse-ify my bottom half," you protested. eddie gasped, clutching his chest dramatically.

"ill have you know, y/n, i dont do that anymore," he said, "ive matured. grown, as a person."

he leaned a little closer to you, his stray curls tickling your skin at such proximity, sending goosebumps down your arms. "i've moved onto minotaurs."

you smacked his arm, and he stuck his tongue out at you before rustling the top of your hair with his hand. he quickly flipped his wrists towards you, flashing you two middle fingers as he backed toward the stage again. you shot him one of your own in return.

he was truly in his element up there, no denying it. his passion was so evident in the way he moved that you could hardly pull your eyes from him, no one could. it was entirely possible you were eyeing him a little more intently than the old drunk guys next to you. maybe just a little, though.

you waited outside after the show. it rained while you were inside, so there was hardly any relief when you exited one humid space to another. the parking lot was riddled with pothole puddles and oil slick rainbows under the street lamps. the clouds were thick in the sky, so much that it almost scared you. the moon was lost, the only indicator of her a shallow ring of white seeping through the slate of grey. you busied yourself kicking rocks in the parking space next to eddies van until the moment he was within view.

as he got closer, you could see his forehead was damp with sweat, his curls sticking to the sides of his face. with his guitar case draped over his shoulder, he waved his arm in your direction despite being only a couple feet from you.

"you guys were amazing," you beamed, closing the distance between the two of you and following him the rest of the way to the van.

"you think so?" eddie smirked. he opened the sliding door of the van and placed his guitar gently in the back, clearing the empty cups, papers, and ashes on the floor to make room.

you hummed in response, "mhm."

"well," he said in harmony with the clicking of the door back into place and grabbed you by your hips, gently backing you against the side of the vehicle, "you looked amazing. look... look amazing."

you could feel the mix of rain droplets and dew that remained on the side of the van through the back of your shirt, but the heat beneath eddies fingers distracted you from the chill that managed to cling to everything in the humid, post-rain air. your arms snaked up and around the back of his neck, your fingers threading into the mess of his hair. you struggled to maintain eye contact with him for several reasons, but mainly because his lips were so inviting. plump, dark pink, and a little swollen from being tucked between his teeth all evening.

his eyes never left yours, though, even when they abandoned his face entirely to scan the activity in the parking lot. he knew what you were doing, and he sighed, shaking the hair from his view before softly clearing his throat.

"y/n," he brought a hand to your cheek, his rings soothing against your flushed skin, "you know what im going to say."

this thumb dragged gently across your cheek, ghosting your lip.

"im just checking," you said, your voice higher in defense, "can never be too careful."

"you can and you are," he mimicked your defensive tone and brought his other hand from your waist to the other side of your face, now cupping your cheeks, "just once, i want to kiss you in semi-public, preferably in daylight but im not picky, without you thinking about steve. youre going to summon him."

"i just worry," you placed your hands over eddies wrists, "about you. about him. about everything, really."

his lips turned up, ever so slightly, at your sentiment, his eyes glossed over and shining like syrup in the orange hued lights. eddie took a step closer to you, pressing your body against his, and he craned his neck, hovering his lips above yours. he let your lips brush over his, smirking when he pulled back and brought you with him, chasing them.

"i love that you care about my wellbeing, y/n," eddie muttered, his breath a phantom on your tongue with how close he was to your mouth, "but i am going to kiss you, right here, right now... and i dont even care if harrington kicks my ass."

youd never imagined that you would be making out with eddie munson, pressed up against his shitty van, let alone writhing under his touch, enjoying it. he let his hands fall from your face, one of them resting on the side of your neck and the other providing him with some leverage against the metal siding of his van.

he told you once about how you make him weak in the knees, but you didnt realize how literal he was being until you grazed his bottom lip with your teeth and felt him tremble against you.

"you," eddie breathed, pressing a heavy and needy kiss to your lips, one you thought would bruise if it had been any longer, "you drive me fucking crazy."

hastily, he placed another kiss on your lips, nearly missing them. you couldnt help but smile into it, smile at how he was kissing you like youd melt away in his hands. maybe youd evaporate and turn into a cloud, or hed kiss you so hard youd seep into the side of his van and hed have no choice but to wash it more than once a year to keep you sparkling.

"how about you," you wrapped your arms around eddies neck, pulling yourself up to his ear and whispering, "drive us to your place."

letting eddie drive you anywhere under normal circumstances was a death wish in itself since he was notorious for basically breaking all traffic laws at least once a week, sometimes for fun. youd never seen him drive so fast. never before had you felt the need to use the little handle above the window, but your knuckles were white around both the handle and eddies hand as he turned too wide around curves and crossed solid lines and whipped it into his driveway with such an abrupt stop that the screech of his tires woke the neighbors dog.

"ah, shut up," he shouted over his shoulder and across the road, pushing the door open and stepping out of the way, "after you."

you stepped through his doorway for what felt like the hundredth time. youd only grown close to eddie within the last few months, and youd been romantic with him for even less. dustin was the one to introduce you after eddie had bugged him about you one too many times. youd noticed him before that, though, sneaking glances at you when youd pick dustin up from hellfire and hiding his blush under a strand of hair hed pull across his face.

the last thing you expected eddie munson to be was shy, but he was putty in your hands.

he was nothing like everyone made him out to be, including steve who had deemed him "the freak." steve wasnt a bad guy by any means. he rebounded onto you after things went south between him and nancy, and you knew it wouldnt last. it was possible that his only flaw was his jealousy. you couldnt talk to anyone without him feeling a little insecure. thats all he did, though, was feel insecure and make you miserable for it, and you didnt want eddie to face the consequences of your actions, no matter how out of character those consequences would be for steve harrington.

eddies uncles mug collection rattled against the wooden shelf when he pulled the door to behind him, rubbing his hands together mischievously as he scooted his feet towards you. an evil smile tugged at his lips when he moved swiftly past you, ignoring your outstretched arms and continuing his scoot to the fridge.

"check this out, babe," his voice was muffled from inside the appliance, buried under the rustling of items and the clinking of glass bottles, "actually, no. close your eyes first."

it could have been anything. youd have been lying if youd said you weren't mildly terrified of what he was pulling from his fridge. your arms fell limp at your sides, fists clenched to conceal the sweat that was glistening on your palms. with your eyes squeezed shut, you could only hear the door rattle as it fell closed closed.

anytime eddie had you close your eyes to build suspense, he would check to see if you were peeking, catching glimpses through your lashes.

"how many fingers am i holding up?" eddie asked after waving an open hand over your closed eyes, the air dusting over your cheeks.

"one."

"fuck you," eddie spat, "are you cheating right now?"

you laughed at how genuinely offended he was that you guessed it right. although, it was impossible to get wrong. "its always one, eddie. literally always."

if you knew that if you had opened your eyes, you would have seen him standing, mystery object tucked under his arm with all his weight on one leg and a grand gesture on display in front of your face: his middle finger.

"yeah, okay," he sighed in defeat, "just open your eyes, cheater."

this might have been the first time youd opened your eyes and been actually surprised. usually it was a freshly rolled blunt or something you left behind that you asked him to return to you-- things you expected. this time, it was different, and a smile found itself on every corner of your face.

eddie held a glass bottle by the cap with one hand, the other gesturing beneath it like a shelf, metal clad fingers wiggling in sync with his eyebrows. his smile was tucked between his teeth.

"picked it up just for you, sweetheart," he said before ceasing all animation, deadpanning when you didnt immediately say something, "it is your favorite, right? i didnt... make that up or something?"

"no, it is," you smiled, gently taking the bottle of soda from his hands and flashing him softened eyes, "thanks."

"i couldnt finish mine," eddie confessed, rocking on his heels as you twisted the metal cap away, letting an exaggerated shiver rack his shoulders.

"didnt like it?" you wiped your lips on the back of your hand.

"shits disgusting, y/n," he held back a fake gag, "tastes like fizzy piss."

you raised your eyebrows at him, "and youd know?"

"id know."

the liquid in the bottom half of your bottle sloshed around as you followed eddie down the hallway, watching the bounce of his hair dwindle to nothing when he reached the door. everything seemed to make noise over there, the floors squeaked, the lights buzzed. it didnt help that eddie mimicked every sound he heard, a high pitched voice ringing with the creak of his bedroom door as he pushed it open.

you werent sure that he even had a lightbuld in the ceiling light. his room was always dark, always still. the blinds in his window were broken, though, so the yellow glow from the street lamps bled through.

"oh, wow, munson," you smirked at him, picking up a pair of dirty underwear from the foot of his bed, "did you clean up for me?"

he was quick to snatch it from between your pinched fingers and stuff it in his closet, kicking the pile of laundry he scrambled to hide from you before you noticed it back into the small space.

"for sure, babe," he breathed a laugh, shrugging, "yeah, i cleaned... mopped and shit."

you raised your eyebrows, glancing down at his carpeted floors, "mhm."

eddies room was usually messy, but you could hardly tell unless you took careful notice of the clothes in the floor. his walls were cluttered with posters and random paper clippings, like a collage of his personality: movie tickets, parking tickets, and every test he got an F on, which, honestly, was most of them. honorable mentions include his guitar hanging from the mirror and a paper desk calendar duct taped to the wall beside his headboard, detailing the global holidays and farmers almanac harvesting and planting times.

"could you be anymore obvious, eds?" you breathed a laugh, tracing the scribbles on the calendar with the tip of your finger.

"what," eddie said rather quickly, like you startled him. he looked up from the floor where he was still trying to force clothes into the closet.

"phases of the moon," you smirked, feeling the ridges of the sketches before whispering, "real subtle."

eddie pulled the accordian style closet doors closed as you continued behind him, standing up and turning to face you with his hands strategically placed on his hips, "should i write a reminder for your grooming appointment next week? behavioral training?"

"honestly, y/n," he motioned towards himself, from his head to his toes, "do i look like i need either of those?"

you closed the gap between the two of you, stepping over the bits of laundry he missed in his last minute cleaning frenzy, and raked your fingers through the sides of his hair, smoothing out the curls that were sticking out. you whispered, "i dont think i should answer that."

"youre mean," eddies lips were turned downward in a slight pout before his gentle expression dissolved entirely, "wipe that shit-eating grin off your face."

your eyes held onto his, "why dont you?"

you pulled that confidence directly out of your ass. shaking hands became steadied by his shoulders as his lips melted onto yours. you would have never admitted how badly you wanted eddie munson, but here you were, settled on his lap, pulling his tshirt over his head and bursting at the seams to feel his lips on your skin. you smoothed your fingers over the black lines on his chest and arms, even one you discovered on his hip. he hissed through his teeth as you pressed your lips to the ink on his forearm, up his bicep, his shoulder, and trailed up his neck. lips parted, breath growing heavier.

his fingertips dug into your thighs on either side of him, pulling you closer to him. as if it were even possible, as if your chests werent adhered with sweat. he looked so beautiful like this, a mess. his hair was plastered to his forehead and his chest heaved, shining even in the dull overhead of his room. he seemed to glow when he would sweat, something that you strived to see every time you ended up like this. it was the only benefit of his room having zero air flow.

one thing about eddie munson: he was a biter. oral fixation for days. hed bite your neck, licking stripes over the red trails his teeth left, bite your wrists to taste the bitter sting of your perfume. hed bite your lips. that was your guilty pleasure with him, going so slow when youd kiss him that hed take control. he couldnt stand it.

you decided, this time, to try it on him instead. you wrapped the hair at the base of his neck around your fingers and tilted his head back, exposing his pretty neck.

"h-holy fucking shit," eddie managed to breathe out when he felt your teeth scrape down the side of his neck. his grip on you tightened, hips bucking up for any friction he could get, "please, do that again."

you dragged your tongue up the length of his neck, placing tiny kisses along his jaw and up to his lips, where he was eager to taste you, resisting the hold you had on his hair to chase your lips. you caved; you had to. eddie moaned softly into your mouth when he felt your teeth sting at his lip, soothing the area with your tongue.

what happened next was unexpected, but not the strangest thing that could have happened. especially given what youd witnessed the past couple of years. in fact, you should have been more concerned when you felt a sharp pain in your legs, like knives were pricking your flesh. you gasped against eddies mouth and pulled back, breaking a kiss that left a trail of bright red spit from his lips to yours. blood. your blood, and it was pooling in your gums, gushing from two minor gashes in your bottom lip.

you covered your mouth with your free hand, releasing eddies hair when you glanced down at how much blood had actually been drawn. no big deal, you thought, this is fine.

and it was. until you looked down even further and saw the curved, thick nails that adorned the tips of eddies fingers, the nails that were partially sunken into your flesh. having your lips bitten off was a risk you took every time you kissed eddie, but the sight of his claws in your thighs set you off just a teensy bit.

slowly, you raised your head, breath trembling to match your shaking hands, and met his gaze where he was staring at you with unadulterated horror. his usual dark eyes were glowing a dim amber, and they were glossed over with tears.

"i...," eddies voice was soft and wavering as he gulped, "im sorry."

saturday

"no way you did the devils tango with eddie," dustin deadpanned, his hands clasped over his mouth in disgust. similar reactions plagued the table of people surrounding you, with lucas pretending to retch behind him and mike plugging his ears with his fingers. they all sat and listened contently to a certain point. apparently, you were a pacer, so you moved over every available inch of the wheelers basement while you recounted the previous nights events.

everyone was more shocked by the fact that you were hooking up with eddie munson and less shocked that he was a fucking werewolf.

"im gonna be sick," max buried her head in the bend of her arm.

"when i said to tell us everything," robins hands were scrunched in her hair while her elbows rested on the table, "i didnt mean... everything."

you shrugged, "im thorough."

"thats a word for it," steve rolled his eyes, "what happened next?"

"of course youd want to know," dustin snickered, and steve smacked the bill of his hat. steve looked to you for clarity.

"i just mean," he ran a hand through his hair, "somehow eddie ended up in the woods and y/n looks like shit."

"wow thanks," you snarled your nose at him, but he was right. youd never tell him, though, "it gets a little blurry here."

you explained it to them, and it sounded even more absurd the second time around. eddie was just as freaked out about the whole thing as you, maybe even more.

"he cleaned me up," you said, "you know, gave me bandaids and shit for my legs. ive known about it for a while, but he said that his lycanthropy had been dormant way past the time it should have activated. he just assumed it skipped him, which made sense to me. you know, like, how diseases skip a generation, but this disease has no cure and it makes you, like, a dog."

"oh yeah, y/n," max laughed, throwing her hands in the air in defeat, "total sense."

"he thinks it only got activated because he was... excited," everyone gagged, covering their faces to sheild you from their obvious disgust, "can you guys be mature, please?"

"the adrenaline," nancy chimed in over top of the younger kids snickering, "it could have triggered his fight or flight or something."

lucas leaned into the huddle of boys, "more like fight or bite," and max smacked the back of his head.

"i think its the drugs," steve rested his weight on the stair railing beside of you, "dudes always stoned. or drunk. could have altered the way his brain received the triggers or whatever."

it wasnt a bad idea, and there werent exactly scientific studies on the adverse effects of substances on lycanthropy. steve harringtons shot in the dark was the best you had to go on.

"wait, so, where is eddie right now?" dustin asked, smacking lucas's arm after he said something else. you couldnt hear it, but it was probably stupid.

youd wondered the same thing as you were trekking through the flora and fauna of hawkins in the wee hours of the night. you knew all of eddies favorite spots, but none of them were necessarily great hiding spots. you werent even sure if thats what he was doing, hiding.

"i was hoping maybe you all could help me find out."

"did you check his place?" dustin immediately followed your proposition with the most obvious solution.

"did i check his place," you restated the question, blinking at dustin dumfoundedly. he threw his hands up, mumbling sarcastic apologies as you spat, "yeah, dustin, i checked his place."

actually, you wished it had been that simple. after the... incident, you were both shaken up. it was a risk you had known about, the werewolf thing, but you knew he wouldnt hurt you on purpose. mainly because he was too gentle. youd assumed that any increase in intensity would just make him an average amount of dangerous. did that make you naive? maybe.

eddies shaking hands smoothed the final bandaid over your thigh, lining it up next to the other four. his brows were drawn close in a combination of guilt and concentration, making sure you were alright and that the bandages would stick. you were sitting on his bathroom counter, back pressed against the barren drywall where a mirror once was.

you lowered your head, tilting it to meet his eyes. eddies gaze flickered to yours and back to your lap, a deep sigh forcing itself out of his lungs and through his nose. "hey," you whispered, raking your fingers up his forearms, "we're okay."

you knew as soon as he looked up that all he could see was the two gashes on your lip, barely scabbing and glistening, and the hickies bruising at the bottom of your neck beginning to look more and more like injuries than a mark of passion. he was afraid to touch you, but you needed him to feel that you were still there.

"can you say something, eddie," you pushed the hair from his face, gently, his eyes still fixed anywhere but on you, "anything?"

"please leave."

he mumbled the words, almost like he was hoping you wouldnt hear them, that youd ask him to repeat them and he could say something else. you squeezed from between his body and the counter and gave him one final glance before doing what he asked.

of course, you forgot in the midst of your grand exit that your car was still at the hideout. thanks, munson, for the ride.

"there was a half hour period last night where i was doing the walk of shame home. not my proudest moment," you shrugged that bit off, "but i went back for him..."

"and he was gone," nancy finished your sentence for you, nodding to herself and sorting out the details.

"we have to find him," dustin added, "at least before someone else does."

steve, taking initiative, took large strides towards the table full of demogorgon repellent. "lets go, then," he announced, grabbed the shotgun, and held it up to the light before everyone shouted in confusion, layered insults and exclamations dissolving the tense air.

"what the hell, steve?"

"hang on, harrington-"

"what, are you gonna shoot him?"

youd never seen steve look so taken aback, surprisingly. he was either one step ahead or ten steps behind. he looked at you, mouth agape, "is this guy not a giant, burly, flesh eating dog right now?"

"no, steve," you dragged, "have you never seen teen wolf?"

the previous evenings rain was still lingering in damp patches on the sidewalks and in the air, thick as smog as you walked down the sidewalk in a cluster. you had all piled in karens car and went to every place you figured eddie would go, starting with the hellfire room at the high school and, consequently, some minor breaking and entering. you dragged them to the hideout, reefer ricks, and even the factory his uncle worked at.

"i didnt think he would be in there, but theres no harm in checking," you sighed into the brisk atmosphere, a cloud forming on the cusp of your lips as you shoved your hands into your pockets. you just snooped around a little bit at the factory, afraid of getting into too much trouble. how would you look for eddie if you got arrested for trespassing?

dustin placed a hand on your shoulder as everyone made their way back into the car, "is there anywhere else hed have gone? somewhere unexpected?"

you hated to admit that youd never thought to check somewhere he wouldn't typically go. why would he go somewhere youd be able to find him if he was hiding?

you hoped he was hiding, at least, and not mounted on someones wall or laying in the road like a stray cat.

"not to be that guy again, but," steve poked his head out of the passenger side window, "munson has to be the biggest virgin ive ever seen. dudes probably never even seen skull rock."

nancy smacked his arm, and he mumbled a hurried, "im just sayin'!" but he was right. you werent even sure if eddie knew how to get there, but there were no downsides to checking. steve made sure to add that, if eddie were to be a giant, burly, flesh-eating dog, skull rock would be an all-you-can-eat buffet on a friday night.

steve graduated the year prior, which made him essentially ancient on the hip spots to hang out in hawkins. no one went to skull rock anymore, especially since a group of people got busted there a few months ago, so you didnt have to worry about eddie possibly eating a horny teenager or two. you didnt tell steve, though. you couldnt break the news to him like that. robin could, though.

"no one hooks up at that stupid rock anymore, dingus," she slapped the side of his head from the backseat as nancy pulled onto the main road. they bickered the entire drive to the edge of town, and dustin, lucas, and mike snickered in the back about steves virgin comment. but you tuned them all out, watching the trees bleed into one another through the fogged window as the pop songs from the radio crackled between shards of broken static.

the sun had set by the time nancy pulled onto the shoulder of the road, nothing suspicious about that. nothing suspicious about the bag of bear traps that steve slung over his shoulder, either. "can never be too safe," he said. there was especially nothing suspicious about the trail of raw meat chunks that lucas and mike dropped behind them as the seven of you navigated your way through the woods. in front of them was nancy and max monitoring police radio interference, in front of them was steve and robin with a compass, and in front of them was you, shoulder to shoulder with your little brother.

dustin flickered his flashlight on either side of the uneven pathway as the two of you walked. it was silent aside from the crunching of leaves and twigs against the soles of your shoes, thick silence that was only broken by dustin quietly murmuring to you. he said, "steve was jealous when i started hanging out with eddie, too."

"i feel like its a little bit different for me," you breathed a laugh.

"meh," he shrugged, and the shallow beam of light moved with him, "kind of, but not really. cant help it that we hendersons are harrington magnets."

"what are you saying about me, henderson?" steve questioned from behind the two of you, kicking a rock into your path.

both you and dustin answered, "nothing," and exchanged knowing grins. yours was small and sly, but dustins was full and bright.

moments like this with dustin were rare for you, and it ached a little to say that the only thing that brought the two of you together was steve. it helped having a mutual friend and, even more so, friend group. youd always felt a little distant from dustin, so any time he willingly hung out with you felt paper thin, like if you stepped too hard youd fall right back to where you started.

so you looked at every gap in the stones before you stepped along the beaten path. the chatter of the group bounced from tree to tree behind you, dissipating into a muffled mess under the sounds of everyones shoes crushing dried leaves. behind you, every sound ceased except for robins voice calling, "i think we need to go right!"

of course, steve chimed in to correct her, "no, robin, i told you we need to go left."

"which means we should go right!" she retorted, and bickering ensued. you rolled your eyes, turning on your heels to face everyone.

"left or right," you asked, planting your arms at your side in defeat, "cut the shit, guys. we have to find eddie."

"find me for what?"

dustin screamed, causing you to scream, overlapping the staggering shouts from steve, robin, and nancy who were climbing into each others arms and covering the frightened curses the kids were spewing, clutching their chests at the back of the line. the voice came from the greenery, from steve and robins right for the record, and was comfortingly familiar once you came down from the initial scare.

"holy shit, eddie," you sighed, scrambling over the fallen tree along the side of the path to get to him. your hands basically melted onto his shoulders when they touched his skin, his warmth as present as ever as you fell into him. you couldnt care about the leaves in your eyes or the sticks prodding your hair, "youre okay, yeah?"

"well, im in a bush," eddie laughed, his hand cupping the back of your head as he stepped out into the pathway with you still wrapped tightly around him, "but, uh, yeah... yeah, im okay."

when you finally looked at him, you could tell he was tired. there was a weight beneath his eyes, sunken and dark, and he had bruises along his arms and cuts on his fingers and dirt streaked everywhere you could see. he gave you a smile, anyway. "hi," he whispered, just to you, tracing the slope of your jaw with the backs of his calloused fingers. you returned his kind eyes, muttering, "hi," through your smile.

"uh, hi," steve greeted, waving his hand a mere three feet from the two of you, "remember us?"

"oh, harrington, hey," eddie straightened up. you could tell he was immediately intimidated, his demeanor hardening as he cleared his throat, "nice to see you."

you snicked to yourself remembering not 24 hours ago, when eddie said with utmost confidence that he "didnt care if harrington kicked his ass," now weak in the knees at the sight of steve carrying around a sack of dangerous items.

eddie took a step back, "is that a gun?"

steve looked over his shoulder and spun around, grabbing it from behind him, "oh, yeah. sorry, i was prepared to shoot you, man."

"what the hell," eddie clasped his hands over the top of his head, visibly at a loss for words, "dude, have you never seen teen wolf?"

under different circumstances, you would have loved to see steve and eddie laughing together, getting along, but not in the woods in the middle of the night after youd spent the entire day searching for him. he didnt seem too shaken up about anything, so you were confused as to why he was out here.

nancy spoke for you, "eddie, is there a reason youre creeping around out here?"

he pressed his lips into a line, rocking on his heels and smacking the sides of his legs as he began to speak, "well, wheeler, if youre so curious, i was looking for y/n. im gonna assume youve been filled in on everything up to this point, and hendersons very thorough, so im also gonna assume it was unnecessarily detailed and vivid," everyone hummed in agreement, "great- so, imagine me, but cleaner and a little more upset than i currently am, wandering the streets of hawkins, a little tipsy because apparently alcohol is the only thing that keeps me from fucking biting people. im walking, trying to find the henderson residence, but ive only been there once so its hard, and my senses are off the walls heightened. its insane how much i can smell- cant lie, that shit's kind of awesome-"

dustin interrupted him, "eddie, did you kill someone or not?"

"kill someone?" eddies mouth hung open at the question, his eyes glancing around to gauge everyones reaction to the question, which was a unanimous answer-the-kid-or-steves-gonna-shoot-you, "uh, no, dustin, i didnt kill someone. im not a monster."

"well, then, why are you hiding away in the woods like a serial killer on the run?" lucas leaned up against a tree with his chin raised high, "seems kind of suspicious to me."

eddie sighed, swallowing audibly before answering, his voice lowered, hushed, "i wasnt hiding from you."

as if on command, an eerily familiar growl filled the distant silence like static, gutteral, and close. eddie flinched, almost habitually jumping back into the shrub you found him in, but reaching for your hand instead. steve immediately handed the shotgun to his left, planting it in nancys grip.

she raised her eyebrows, drilling holes into the side of your head with her glare. "told you," she muttered, holding out a fist towards max, who quickly reciprocated the gesture. a celebratory fist-bump for being stuck in the woods with a werewolf and a demogorgon.

"does, uh," steve started, his voice hushed and his grip tightened around his trusty baseball bat that he had shoved in the bag. he motioned between you and eddie, specifically, and asked,

"does teen wolf say anything about fighting demogorgons?"

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 -> @clemkruckinnie @trappedinaboxhelp @rvven @dixontardis @mitzirre @munsaniac @knowledgefulbutterfly @husherstan

join the taglist!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #werewolf au #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things drabble #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #henderson reader

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zablife · 2 years

Text

Amnesia

John Shelby x female reader

Summary: John has been away serving in the military. Due to his own mental health problems, he’s been cold and distant. Feeling shut out, you decide to break up with him. When he returns he must deal with the consequences.

Author’s Note: (Modern AU) Written for my lovely friend @magicalxdaydream bc she said she wished someone would write a fic based on the song “Amnesia.” I hope you enjoy it babes!

Warnings: angst, mention of depression

John wasn’t looking forward to going home. He couldn’t bear the thought of entering an empty flat. You had moved your things out two months ago after you’d called him crying over a glitching video call. With makeup running down your face you admitted you didn’t want to be with him anymore. He couldn’t reply at the time, sitting in stunned silence as you explained that he was no longer the man you remembered.

What you said was true and he couldn’t deny any of it. He hadn’t been himself since he had gone away to serve. The things he had seen had changed him forever. When the feelings overwhelmed him and he couldn’t face you over the phone, he would write you letters he hoped you read to know he was still thinking of you. He thought it was more personal than text messages. He couldn’t know that none of his notes actually made it through the mail, making you believe he was more detached than ever.

As John arrived in Birmingham, he found himself restless. After a family dinner, he settled for a drive around the places you used to hang out getting wasted. It reminded him of a carefree time when you were just kids, when things were simpler.

After a week at home his mind hadn’t settled. He hardly slept thinking of you and the last kiss you had shared before he left. He remembered it in detail, how it felt and the way you tasted. He replayed the moment until he drove himself crazy.

He had stayed in that dreamlike state for days, phone ringing incessantly with missed calls from his friends who wanted to reconnect. He’d let them all go to voicemail as he laid in bed unable to escape the memories of falling asleep next to you. He had always loved holding you close until he felt your breathing even out. It calmed him in a way no drug ever could.

He would spend hours looking through his camera roll at all the pictures of the two of you together. He knew it was pathetic, but it made him feel less alone. Then he’d scroll to the ones you’d sent while he was away. Selfies of you going about your life without him. He’d enjoyed receiving them at first before the stress of his job and the depression had seeped in, making it impossible for him to talk to you about it.

Two weeks after he’d arrived home, he got dragged from his flat by his mates. “Hey, man, why haven’t you been around?” they asked pulling him toward the pub. He had agreed because he needed an escape, a way to forget all the stupid little things his brain was holding onto so dearly. Sometimes he wished for a bout of amnesia to wipe them all way. He reckoned a night of drinking would do the job.

His friends told him about the new man you were seeing, but it was painful to hear how you’d moved on so quickly. He wondered how you could leave behind all the plans and dreams you’d had together as though you didn’t need them any longer. It was hard to hear your name again and it hurt to know you were so happy. It was like a conspiracy against him to prove nothing you’d had together was real. As he drank he wondered if it had all just been a lie.

Then he saw you and he had to know. Why did you act like it never happened? How could you act like you were fine? “Cause I’m not fine at all!” he shouted at you. You pulled him by his elbow to the street where it was quiet and took his head in your hands. It had been so long since he felt your touch that he calmed instantly.

He began crying, “I didn’t mean to let you slip away. Tell me this is just a dream.”

“I’m real John and I’m here now so tell me. Tell me what you couldn’t tell me then,” you pleaded.

“Didn’t you read the words I wrote you?” he asked looking at you with a pained expression.

You shook your head not understanding. “I didn’t get any letters while you were away John,” you said tearfully.

So he started from the beginning, taking your hands in his and pouring out his heart, grateful for the chance to explain. When he was through he admitted, “I want to wake up with you beside me again and hold you closer than I ever have before. Will you give me that chance?”

And although you had had someone new beside you everyday for months now, you’d felt nothing but loneliness without your John. Now that he was home, everything felt right.

----------------------------

Tag list:

@evita-shelby

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@easilyobessedbutflighty

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@peakyrogers

@christinasyellowflowers

@retromafia

@notyour-valentine

@peaky-cillian

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@floraroselaughter

@cillmequick

@l1-14

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John Shelby fanfic #John Shelby imagine #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x you

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cdroloisms · 3 years

Text

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

210 notes · View notes

stutterfly · 3 years

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

peter quill dating hcs

Listen this isn't the smut headcanons

But it's peter quill

There's gonna be some 18+ jokes and content

I will keep this as sfw as possible bc you'd better fucking believe that Peter Quill relationship and intimacy hcs are on their fucking way

So yeah just a prelude

Anyway

Yuh let's get inTO it

Okay two things first

1: I'm so mad there's like no fics for him?????????? Why is he not yet a tumblr sexyman??????? I get the first movie came out in like 2014 so I probably just missed the hype window but for gods sake

2: a lot of ppl think he'd be easily flustered and blushy and that's totally and completely valid

However

Why are we overlooking the whole "I've slept with half the galaxy" thing????????

Okay Peter is a goofball

We know this

And on top of that

He can get it

I'm going to stop myself there so more on that later

He's like 6'2, hilarious, charismatic, so loving and compassionate, fan fucking tastic music taste i could go on for days

I feel like more likely than not you'd probably go from fwb to lovers

Since this is the sfw half we're gonna focus more on the second half

I feel like he falls so hard and fast he doesn't really have time to be like

Oh no I'm falling in love dammit

He's so easily distracted by everything about you that he can't hear that voice going "snap out of it Peter"

Cause he does not want to

Oh my god sit on his lap when he's in the pilot's seat in the Milano

When he's not driving obviously

It's one of his favorite things you do

If you're Terran you bond over earth stuff really quickly

#growingupterran

He's really affectionate

Like really really affectionate

Rocket makes gagging noises whenever you're in the same room cause there's usually some kinda cuddling or kissing going on

Even just loving gazes across the room

Rocket is the voice Peter ignores telling him to snap out of it

Rocket: come on! This is gross! It's gross, right Groot?

Groot, handing Peter a flower to give to you: I am Groot :)

Peter, handing you the flower: thank you Groot, you're my new wingman

Rocket: >:(

Don't worry though, you call Rocket the weapons expert and he likes you suddenly

"What should we bring to the attack?"

"We should ask Rocket, he is the weapons expert"

Rocket, dropping down from an air vent, "DAMN RIGHT I AM"

Rocket gives me Rigby meets Dan from Dan vs energy

When Peter sees you getting along with the rest of the crew it makes his heart so happy

I’d say out of all marvel subunits the guardians have the most genuine found family dynamic

The support between him and his friends is so important to him, so when you integrate pretty easily as part of the group, it means a lot to him

If you’re terran

Which presumably you are

When he first shared his awesome mixes with you you loved it

You checked your phone and realized, very distraught, that you don’t have wifi in space

Luckily you had some music downloaded, so you have like 3 playlists you can listen to

Once you get to a planet with actual reception, you make copies of his mixes on spotify so y’all can shuffle them

He kind of prefers to listen straight through but the variety is nice

And the fact that you did that for him???? His heart goes boom boom

And his peepee goes hELLO

He’ll dance with you a lot

Albeit very shittily

But you both have fun

If you’re insecure about dancing you won’t be for long

Sometimes when you’re dancing he’ll have his hands on your waist

Just staring at you

He’s been from one corner of the galaxy to the next

He’s seen everything

And you still top the charts as the prettiest sight he’s ever laid eyes on

His eyes get all big and sparkly

His brow gets a little furrowed and he has this smirky smile

He lets out a breathy laugh, baffled at how after all the pain and loss and bullshit he’s endured

How someone as

Wonderful

As you came into his life

Man

He just likes spending time with you

And as much of a front as he puts up he will come damn near death to protect you and make sure you’re safe

The only reason he wouldn’t actually die for you is because then he wouldn’t be able to protect you more

But he will 100% sacrifice himself for your safety and wellbeing

Afterwards he’ll cover it up with self aggrandizing humor

“So we’re in agreement… that was so heroic, right?”

Through tears, you’ll clutch him and laugh

“Oh, yeah. Very brave, your medal of valor will be arriving soon,”

He does this to soften the blow of what he did

Both for you and him

Let’s be real, he’s not best with up front emotional vulnerability

He’ll deflect with humor or seduction

But it’s very thinly veiled

When he falls for you you know exactly how much he likes you

Which is a lot

Later during a quiet moment

Maybe you’re falling asleep with his cassettes playing softly

You can tell him not to do that again

How worried you are, how stupid it was, and that you don’t know what you’d do without him

Keep it brief though, he already knows good and well how much it scared you

Most importantly let him know how much how love him

How much you care about him, how much everything he does means to you

And that you’d do the same for him

“Uh, no- no way. The whole point was to keep you away from bodily harm.” He’ll chuckle, half joking, fingers tracing your neck and jawline

“Okay,” you’ll reply into the crook of his neck, “next time, we come up with a plan b where both of us avoid bodily harm. Deal?”

“Yeah,” he’ll say softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “deal.”

Oh god his feelings for you are so overwhelming in that moment

They're swirling around him like a typhoon

He’s so focused on your touch, your breaths, the warmth coming off of you that it just washes over him

All he can do is hold you close

He knows he has no idea what the coming days will bring

But he’ll be damned if you don’t face it side by side

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #star lord #gotg #gotg fanfiction #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy #star lord x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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beifongsss · 4 years

Text

flirt [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x earthbender!reader baybeeeeee

Summary: An anon request <3 “ zuko and a super outgoing/confident/flirty reader? all the fics i’ve seen so far are super shy reader x zuko, they’re super cute, just not very relatable to me lol”

i hope i do your request justice :3 also i’m sorry that I keep making the reader a bender but this fits bc they have to fight Zuko lol

.masterlist.

You don’t even know how you ended up traveling with the Gaang.

One day you had been living in a small Earth Kingdom town, helping out the Beifongs as Toph’s etiquette tutor and the next, you found yourself being tugged away from your home by the youngest Beifong. You couldn’t deny the fact that you finally felt free flying on the (abnormally cute) sky bison as you headed to who-knows-where.

You had nothing left for you back in the Earth Kingdom town you had been born in. You were the only daughter of a well-known family who had always been loyal to the Earth King. Unfortunately, they had been captured on a trip to Ba Sing Se and subsequently killed by the Fire Nation. With no family left to turn to, you proceeded to accept the Beifong’s offer to stay with them in return for you teaching Toph about high class etiquette.

Toph was an interesting girl and you found yourself being impressed with everything she did. You were always her number one supporter, especially when it came to her being The Blind Bandit. She was an extremely talented bender and in return for you tutoring her, she was your bending instructor and you became her only most promising student.

Eventually, Aang, Katara, and Sokka all filled you in about the banished Fire Nation prince and how he had chased the Gaang everywhere they had gone in an attempt to capture the Avatar. You and Toph were upset at the stories and were immediately anti-Zuko, promising to help Aang master earthbending as fast as possible.

You got along well with everyone, especially Sokka who was almost as talkative as you were. Of course the good vibes didn’t last long and you all found yourselves arguing as you found yourselves being chased by Azula and her friends. The situation had culminated in a battle at a small, abandoned town. You had arrived to see Aang being cornered by two people, each of them throwing fire towards the young Air Nomad.

Engaging with the person closest to you, you thrust your hands out, shooting a pillar of earth out and tossing the person into the closest building. Sharing a look with Aang, you waved him off. “Go! I’ll hold him off.”

“Be careful,” Aang warned, looking towards Azula uncertainly. “That’s Zuko.”

Your eyes widened as Aang ran off before turning your attention back to the boy in front of you. He struggled to get up before a burst of fire left him, sending rock debris everywhere. Quickly, you sent up another wall of earth, protecting yourself from the flying rocks before breaking it apart and sending it towards Zuko. The banished prince grunted before throwing a few fireballs towards you, causing you to stumble back and fall.

Eyes narrowing, Zuko made his way to you, pulling back his fist as fire formed around it. Groaning, you sat up, finally getting a good look at the boy in front of you. Almost immediately, a flirty smirk made it’s way onto your face. You quickly scrambled to your feet, bouncing up to him without any hesitation. You dodged his attacks, fighting back as you bit your lip.

“So...you’re Zuko?” you asked, dodging another punch. At this point, you were engaging in hand to hand combat instead of relying on your earthbending. Zuko didn’t reply, his eyes narrowing as he kept sending blasts of fire again.

“Aang told us about how you haven’t been able to capture him,” you continued, blinking innocently as Zuko became visibly angry. “But he failed to mention just how handsome you are.”

At your words, Zuko’s eyes widened and he misstepped, losing his focus at your words. You took that opportunity to step back as well before taking a strong step and raising your hands, encasing the banished prince in a slab of rock.

“Let me go!” Zuko cried out, steam coming out of his nose as he struggled. You stood in front of him, arms crossed as you stared at him. He truly was handsome, with piercing gold eyes and soft-looking black hair. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Sokka.

“(Y/N)! A little help here?” the Water Tribe boy yelped, narrowly dodging a blast of blue fire from Azula.

“Coming!” you replied, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern before you addressed Zuko once more. “It was real nice meeting you Prince Zuko. I hope to see you again under more pleasurable circumstances.”

With a wink, you sprinted away, jumping in front of Sokka and sending up a wall of earth as Azula struck again. You continued to sprint around, helping out whenever called out to you. The fight came to an end when you all had Azula cornered, and you sent a brief smirk to Zuko as you saw him standing near you. “Finally made it out huh?”

He had glowered at you and you simply rolled your eyes before turning back to Azula. “The whole tough guy act is hot but something tells me you’d look better with a smile.”

You missed his surprised look as Azula shot a blast of fire towards an older man, who you later learned was Zuko’s uncle Iroh. In the ensuing chaos she escaped, and you were left with a shaken Zuko and an injured Iroh. At Zuko’s threats insistence, the five of you left, looking back at him as you flew off on Appa. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally spoke up. “So, why didn’t you guys mention that Prince Zuko is hot?”

The only sound that was heard was Sokka slapping his forehead.

The next time you saw Zuko was in Ba Sing Se. You had been walking around with Katara, having stayed behind with her to plan the invasion. She was talking quietly as you looked around the city, pretending to be listening to her. On your shoulder, Momo was chattering quietly, also looking around with his large eyes.

You sighed softly as you entered a cozy-looking tea shop. You looked around in appreciation before you heard Katara gasp. Quickly, she grabbed your hand and whirled around hurrying out of the shop. You felt yourself crash into someone else, losing Katara’s hand and falling to the ground. You looked at the door before looking at Momo, shaking your head at Katara’s weird behavior.

“Are you alright?” a soft voice ask. You pushed yourself up, ignoring the hand in front of you before looking up. Your eyes widened in surprise as you found yourself staring at Zuko’s uncle. Iroh, you recalled vaguely. Recognition flashed in his eyes as he looked at you, remembering you as the earthbender who had trapped his nephew. Bracing yourself for the worst possible scenario, you nodded in response to his question, holding Momo to your chest.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” the retired general asked, a warm smile on his face as he guided you to a table. “You look like a jasmine type of girl.”

Sensing no ill intentions from the smiling man, you nodded. “Jasmine happens to be my favorite.”

“I see. It is my nephew’s favorite as well,” Iroh continued, gesturing to the boy behind the counter. You smiled as you noticed Zuko standing behind the counter, his back to you as he focused on whatever he was doing. Noticing your smile at the sight of his nephew, Iroh smiled as well. “I’ll send him over to give you your tea.”

“I would greatly appreciate that,” you said, your eyes not leaving the handsome boy.

You played with Momo when Iroh left, silently speaking to the winged lemur as you waited for your tea. You placed Momo in your lap when you heard someone set down a tray on your table, looking up to see Zuko standing there. “Hey handsome.”

Zuko glanced at you, doing a double take when his eyes met yours. “Y-You!”

He grasped your hand, pulling you out of your seat and towards the back as you struggled to hold on to Momo.

“Ow! Ow! Can you stop?” you hissed, pulling your hand away from him. You placed Momo on your shoulder before rubbing your wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing how raw it looked. “You really need to learn how to control your temper Zuko.”

“What happened here?” Iroh’s asked before Zuko could speak again. He gently took your hand in his inspecting the burn before turning to his nephew. “Now Lee, is this any way to treat our customers?”

“She isn’t a customer uncle,” Zuko replied bluntly. “She’s traveling with the Avatar. She is the earthbender who fought me the day you were injured.”

“You’re the earthbender who trapped my nephew?” Iroh looked at you in surprise. You nodded, causing the older man to chuckle. “You are a very talented bender.”

You blushed at the compliment before answering, thinking about Toph. “Thank you, I was trained by the best.”

“We must get this wrapped up. Come with me,” Iroh led you to a back room, where he proceeded to get some type of salve and some wrappings. “Zuko if you could please do this for me, I’m afraid I have to get back to the customers.”

Iroh left the two of you, but not before stopping and handing Momo a few litchi nuts. Momo chittered before jumping off your shoulder, landing on a windowsill as he began eating the fruit. You glanced at the burn once more before looking back at Zuko. “You know, you just gave the term ‘too hot to handle’ a whole new meaning.”

Zuko tried to hold his blush back at your words as he sat in front of you. He grabbed your arm, applying the paste and then gathering the wrappings, beginning to tie them around your wrist.

You hissed when he tightened it a little too much, pulling away from the boy. “Ow! If I wanted you to be rough with me I would’ve told you.”

This time, Zuko could not hold his blush at your double entendre. A faint smirk appeared on your face as you began to wrap your wrist.

“Let me do it,” Zuko muttered reaching for your arm.

“No,” you replied leaning away. “Trust me I can do it myself.”

“Why are you being so difficult,” the boy groaned, lunging for the wrapping. You leaned back too far, falling onto your back as you reached out for something to grab on to. The only thing you succeeded in doing was pulling Zuko down with you.

You stared at the boy above you. “When I told you that I hope we’d meet under more pleasurable circumstances, this wasn’t what I had in mind. Not that I’m complaining.”

Zuko stuttered for a few second before deciding to scowl at you instead.

“If I had known I was interrupting, I would’ve stayed outside. Prince Zuko, I never knew you were so good with the ladies,” Iroh’s voice floated in. You sat up immediately, only succeeding in getting closer to the prince. You tried to ignore the blush that you knew was visible on your cheeks.

“I would be honored to be wooed by such an attractive man,” you said, looking up at Zuko through your eyelashes. Iroh raised an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I simply fell back and pulled your nephew down with me.”

“Well, as an apology on his behalf from earlier, let me offer you a nice warm cup of jasmine tea,” Iroh said, setting down a tray. “On the house.”

You smiled as you pulled yourself up, leaving Zuko on the ground. “It smells delicious but I am afraid I must get going. Katara must be wondering where I am. Thank you very much for the offer.”

You bowed before whistling sharply, causing Momo to fly to your shoulder.

“My nephew will walk you out. It was nice to met you...” Iroh trailed off as he realized that he had never asked for your name.

“My name is (Y/N),” you supplied, smiling.

“A truly beautiful name,” Iroh said, stepping away from the door. “It was nice to meet you (Y/N). I hope to see you again soon. Zuko, please walk her out.”

You bowed once more before you followed Zuko back out to the store. When you reached the steps, you turned around and faced him once more. “It was nice to see you again handsome. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Zuko’s reply was lost as you stepped forward, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his scarred cheek. “Have a nice evening.”

Momo’s chittering was the only thing that could be heard as you walked away. Zuko stood on the steps until he could no longer see you, the blush on his cheeks only intensifying when he remembered how your lips felt pressed against his cheek.

“It seems to me that she is the one wooing you,” Iroh said, hiding a smile.

“Shut up uncle.”

You didn’t see the handsome prince again until you had all safely escaped to the Western Air Temple. You had been trying to talk to Aang about learning firebending when you and Toph had felt someone arriving.

“Aang, I think we should be making some plans about our future!” Sokka exclaimed, trying to get Aang to pay attention.

“Okay, we can do that while I show you the giant Pai Sho table! Oh, you're gonna love the all-day echo chamber!” the air nomad replied, already preparing to run off.

Aang came to an abrupt stop when you sent up a wall of earth in front of him.

“I think that’ll have to wait,” Toph said, turning to face the newcomer.

“Hello, Zuko here,” the prince said, raising his arms up in greeting. Immediately, everyone except you took a fighting stance. You didn’t really pay attention to most of the conversation, too busy staring at Zuko’s hair. It had grown out some and to be honest, you thought it looked really good.

“Wait,” you interrupted, stepping forward slightly. “You look really good with your hair like that. Not to say you didn’t look good before but this, wow. you’re even hotter.”

“(Y/N)!” Sokka and Katara exclaimed at the same time. Sokka pulled you back before smacking you lightly. You smacked him back, the two of you bickering nonstop. You missed Zuko’s bewildered expression, along with most of the conversation.

“There's no way we can trust you after everything you've done,” Aang spoke, catching your attention. “We'll never let you join us.”

“You need to get out of here,” Katara added, a hard expression on her face. “Now.”

Zuko looked at you, his eyes pleading.

You sighed before speaking, your arms raised in surrender. “Look, I think you’re probably the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen-”

“Hey!” Sokka cried indignantly.

You ignored him. “But to be fair, you did send an assassin after us. Not to mention everything else you’ve done. I can’t help you handsome.”

“If you won't accept me as a friend, then maybe you'll take me as a prisoner,” Zuko said, kneeling with his hands out. You looked at Katara, a suggestive smirk on your face.

“(Y/N), stop,” she sighed before turning back to Zuko and bending some water. “No, we won't! Get out of here, and don't come back! And if we ever see you again, well, we'd better not see you again!”

Zuko bowed his head and turned to walk away, glancing back once more. For once, you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Has anyone seen Toph,” you asked as you rushed into the courtyard. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

“I haven’t seen her since she stormed off yesterday,” Sokka said, polishing his sword.

“Maybe we should go look for her,” Katara said, noticing your distress.

“We’ll look for her!” The Duke said, rushing off with Haru and Teo.

You whirled around when you heard a loud rumble, only to see a gaping hole in the wall. Toph tumbled out of it, her eyes wide.

“Toph!” you exclaimed, wrapping her up in a hug. “What happened?”

“My feet got burned,” she replied, pushing you off of her.

Her feet were an angry red and you felt your anger rise up as you realized who had done it. “The next time I see Zuko I swear to the spirits that I will-”

“It was an accident,” Toph interrupted you, placing a hand on your arm. You bit your lip as Sokka carried her over to the fountain.

“Ah that’s the stuff,” Toph said, closing her eyes as she dipped her feet in. Soka opened his mouth to say something only to be cut off by an explosion. Being the closest to the source, you were flung back, metal and stone landing on top of you.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Aang yell as everyone else ran away.

“I’m fine!” you called back. “Go I’ll be okay.”

You bended as much earth as you could away from you, only to still be stuck when you realized you couldn’t move the metal.

“We have to get (Y/N),” Toph said, worriedly grabbing onto Katara.

“We will. Hold on,” Sokka said, staring at the blasts Combustion Man was sending their way. After a few more blasts, he was able to tell where he was and aimed his boomerang. The boomerang met it’s mark and they all ran out, Sokka and Toph immediately going over to you.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks Zuko,” Aang spoke softly.

“Hey! What about me?” Sokka asked, helping you up. Your leg was injured but luckily nothing had been broken. Sokka was fussing over you, looking at the nasty bruise that had been left from the metal and you were trying to push him away, claiming that you didn’t need his help.

“...I’d like for you to teach me,” Aang’s words gained yours and Sokka’s attention. Zuko bowed.

“Thank you. I’m so happy you’ve accepted me into your group.”

“Not so fast,” Aang said. “I still have to ask my friends if it's okay with them. Toph, you're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

“Go ahead and let him join,” Toph said as the pounded her fist into her palm. “It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

“Sokka?” Aang asked.

“Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord,” the Water Tribe Boy shrugged. “If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it.“

“Katara?”

“I'll go along with whatever you think is right,” she said simply, glaring at Zuko.

“What about you (Y/N)?” Aang asked, already knowing what your answer would be.

“You’re telling me I’m going to have to see him every day?” you asked, gesturing towards Zuko. “That sounds like a dream come true.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said, redder than a tomato. “I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” you replied. Groans were heard from everyone else.

~ “Come on (Y/N)!” Toph yelled at you. “Do it!”

You stared at the metal in front of you, trying to concentrate on it. You were in the courtyard, a few days after Combustion Man’s downfall. Zuko and Aang were firebending a few feet away from where Toph was trying to teach you how to metalbend. Ever since you had gotten trapped, she had been insistent on teaching you.

With a loud huff, you closed your eyes. You reached out focuising as much as you could and turning the pieces of metal in front of you into smooth, shiny balls. You opened your eyes when you heard clapping, turning to see Aang cheering softly for you. Zuko stood behind him, shirtless.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Toph taunted, bending the balls of metal back into scraps. “Do it again. This time concentrate harder. I don’t know why you’re so distracted today.”

“You don’t know why I’m distracted?” you said turning to face Aang and Zuko. “Prince Handsome over here is training shirtless and you expect me to not be distracted by that?”

“I don’t get distracted by that,” Toph countered.

“Of course not,” you said, facing her again. “You’re blind.”

Aang snickered and Zuko coughed as he tried to choke back his laughter.

“Do it again,” Toph barked. “Zuko come stand next to me.”

Zuko complied and crossed his arms as he stood next to Toph. You found yourself blushing lightly as you stared at the way his arms flexed before focusing on the metal once more. You struggled for a few minutes, feeling Zuko’s eyes on you. You glanced at him once more, watching his arms flex once again as he shifted in place. Looking up at his face, you saw him already looking at you, a smirk on his face.

You looked back at the metal trying not to look at the prince again. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

It wasn’t until Ember Island that you got to spend more time around Zuko. After the day Toph had made him stand next to her as she trained you, you made sure to train as far as you could possibly get from the prince. That didn’t stop you from flirting with him every other chance you had though, always commenting on how you couldn’t train around him because he made you flustered.

Your comments seemed to make him equally, if not more, flustered.

The day you guys went to see the play, you had sat next to him, intertwining your fingers when the lights went off. He had stiffened up, an unreadable look on his face when he felt your hand in his. Thinking he had been uncomfortable, you pulled back your hand, only to blush when he pulled it back towards him this time taking it upon himself to intertwine your fingers.

Your hands remained intertwined for the rest of the play, even when you exited the private box for the intermission. You didn’t miss the smug looks from everyone else and while Zuko blushed, you had simply leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek the same way you had back in Ba Sing Se.

When the second half of the play started, you proceeded to lean on Zuko, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. His heart racing, Zuko disconnected your hands before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes as you leaned into him, enjoying the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

The next few days were spent watching Aang and Zuko training as you lounged around the beach house. You spent most of your time with Toph as she kept drilling metalbending into you until you could do it with your eyes closed.

A few nights before Sozin’s comet, you found yourself sitting on the roof of the house, staring up at the moon. You jumped slightly when you felt someone sitting next to you, the warmth emitting from them telling you it was Zuko.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, his eyes never leaving you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you hummed, still looking at the moon. You looked at him to see him scowling. “I couldn’t sleep so I came out here to look at the moon.”

“Sokka’s first girlfriend turned into the moon,” Zuko said, fidgeting under your gaze.

“That’s rough,” you said, looking back up.

It was silent for a few minutes before Zuko spoke up again. “Why do you like teasing me so much?”

You looked at him, bewildered. “Teasing you?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, turning to face you. “All the compliments and the kisses and everything. Why?”

“It’s called flirting, Prince Zuko,” you said with a smile. “People typically do it when they’re attracted to or like somebody.”

“So why do you do it to me?”

You stared at him in disbelief, wondering if he was joking or if he was truly that oblivious. “Because I like you!”

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise at your words. “You like me?”

“I thought you knew! I thought that’s why you kept flexing the day Toph kept trying to get me to metalbend,” you hissed poking his arm.

“I was joking around,” Zuko replied, swatting your hand away. “I thought you saying I was distracting you was a joke so I kept flexing to tease you.”

“Well you did tease me,” you mumbled. “Just not in the way you’re thinking of.”

“So,” Zuko said, not meeting your eyes. “You really like me?”

You rolled your eyes before leaning forwards, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. His eyes widened in shock before he closed them, his hand reaching up to cup your face as he melted into the kiss. You pulled back and giggled as his lips chased yours, pecking him once more before leaning back. “Does that answer your question?”

Zuko nodded quickly before grabbing your hand. “I like you too.”

You smiled as you shuffled closer to him. “Good. I’d be pretty upset if you didn’t.”

You gasped lightly as Zuko pressed his lips back to yours, sliding his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. Your arms wound around his neck, hands tangling in his hair as you eagerly kissed back. Zuko pulled away first, a chuckle escaping him.

“What?” you asked leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I can’t believe uncle was right,” he replied. At your questioning gaze, he explained.

“You did end up wooing me.”

AHAHAHAHAAHHHH i hope this is good i spent a lot of time on this one and i’m not too proud of it but i hope you enjoy <3

#prince zuko x reader #atla zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #atla zuko #avatar #avatar: tla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar x reader #aang #katara #sokka #toph #atla #atla x reader #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #atla sokka x reader #zukoxreader

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years

Text

Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance."

"What?"

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—"

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-"

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

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hstyleshoney · 3 years

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hey! could u maybe write something where h notices Y/N is distant after he comes back from tour? like she doesn’t feel stable in the relationship anymore bc he’s always away or something like that but he doesn’t want to break up. lmao this is weirdly specific but I really hope u get over your writers block <3

This has been in my drafts for a couple months now. Finally had time to finish it. Sorry it took so long. Hope you like It! <3

WC: 5.3K // angst, fluff

April.

Harry is tired.

He’s only been back in London for two days but he is completely drained. Mentally and physically. All he wants to do is snuggle down on the sofa with his girl and relax. He wants to hold her as close to him as humanly possible; feel her warmth and her smooth skin against his. He wants to spend all night just giggling away at nothing in particular with her because they’re both just so happy to be around one another again and whisper sweet nothings to her all night to let her know how much he missed her and loves her.

He has 21 days home before the next part of his tour kicks off - in Australia. He wants to make the most out of their time together before he has to leave again.

But something is wrong.

She is distant. She’s not letting him hold her, she hardly smiles when she sees him and she’s being off. It’s weird. Harry doesn’t like it.

He noticed it the second he arrived at her flat Monday night. She didn’t come running when he walked through the door. She didn’t talk non-stop for hours like she usually did when they had spent an excessive amount of time apart. She didn’t dig through his suitcase to get a look at all his latest purchases of clothes just because she loved fashion and got excited about all the designer items he owned. It was odd.

They didn’t even have sex.

Harry told himself it was probably just because it was late when he arrived and she was probably just tired. She’d be fine in the morning.

But she is still being as off with him as she was on Monday night, despite the fact that he has been back home in London for a couple days now. Harry doesn’t know what to do. Usually being back home with her brings him comfort and lets him relax after weeks on the road. Now it only has the opposite effect. It’s disheartening. He doesn’t understand it.

On Friday night they go out for dinner with a couple of friends of his. Harry hopes it will lift her spirits but she stays quiet for most of the evening. She is gloomy, not her usual self, and the twinkle in her eyes is missing. It’s awkward and when James shoots him a questioning look from across the table Harry knows that everyone has noticed that something is wrong.

Harry feels sick.

He is worried. Stressed. Anxious. Maybe even a tiny bit angry.

And he is afraid to ask her about it because he has a bad feeling about the whole thing. His gut is telling him that her lack of affection is because of him. He knows he has to ask her about it, but he is holding off for as long as he possibly can. Because asking her about why she is being distant makes it real and he is not ready for her to confirm his suspicions. He is still holding onto the small hope that her mood is because of something that happened at work or with her friends.

But she usually tells him everything and now she hasn’t said anything.

So the only explanation Harry can think of is that he is the reason for her low mood.

And he is not ready to hear it.

He knows her though. He knows she hates upsetting or disappointing others and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means neglecting her own thoughts and feelings until she’s too overwhelmed by it all. She has the kindest heart he has ever met; she is perhaps too kind for her own good.

Which is why he knows he has to ask her and get her to open up about whatever is going on in her head. For her sake but also for his own.

The car ride back to his house after their dinner is, unsurprisingly, quiet and somewhat tense. Harry wants to ask her right there and then why she is being so off, but he also knows he won’t be able to focus on the road if he does. He can hardly focus enough as it is. So he stays quiet and glances over at her whenever he gets the chance, and his heart sinks from how sad she looks.

She doesn’t look at him once though and only rests her head against the window as she watches the other cars around them, picking at the skin around her nails; a sign Harry has learned means that she is either stressed or upset... or both.

Once they make it to his house reality kind of hits him like a ton of bricks and he is one hundred percent sure her mood is because of him now and he is anxious to find out the reason why that is and fearful of where the conversation might lead. What if he loses her? He is not sure his heart can take it.

But she lets him put a hand on her back as they walk into the house and it’s nice to have her close again, she smells so good, and he has to stop himself from falling into her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she tells him quietly when they get inside, avoiding eye contact, and swiftly disappears up the stairs before he gets the chance to ask her about anything. Harry almost calls her name to stop her but decides to give her a couple of minutes before he approaches her about the elephant in the room.

Also, he needs some time to get his own head together and prepare for whatever might be thrown his way. As scared as he might be there is also a frustration building up inside him from her shutting him out. He had been gone for almost three months and they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would’ve liked to. He had been looking forward to just coming home to her and getting a couple of weeks with her before continuing his tour.

There is a lump in his throat as he makes his way up the stairs. His palms are sweaty. His head is spinning. And he realises, for the first time in his life, that he is absolutely terrified about the possibility of losing someone. Her. He has been in love before. He has gone through break-ups. But none of them have made him feel like this. It’s like someone is suffocating him.

And the break-up hasn’t even happened yet. He doesn’t even know if it will happen. He just knows that the girl who has his whole heart in his hands is being distant and won’t talk to him after weeks apart. It’s not a good sign.

She is still in the bathroom when he comes upstairs. The door is open and he takes a few seconds to just watch her, leaning against the doorframe with a fond look on his face. He can’t take his eyes off her. Her hair is pushed back by her pink fuzzy headband and her face is free from all the makeup she had previously worn. She is beautiful, he thinks and closes his eyes for a second to savor the small moment.

It’s just so familiar. He has seen her get ready for bed a hundred times before and he never gets tired of it. It’s the simplest thing but it makes him feel home.

She feels like home.

And then she spots him by the door and a small squeal escapes her lips which brings him back. “Bloody hell Harry” she breathes out and puts a hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he replies and shoots her a weak smile.

“I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes and then the bathroom is all yours” she says and picks up one of her many skin care products to continue her routine. She speaks fast and avoids his gaze. Harry clears his throat awkwardly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

She freezes for a brief moment and Harry almost feels bad. Silence falls over them again and it’s all the confirmation he needs to know that whatever is going on has something to do with him. Harry is almost certain she’s going to tell him she’s too tired to talk or come up with another excuse, but eventually she nods.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods as well and tries to give her another small smile to ease the tension between them but it’s useless. The knot in his stomach weighs him down too much. “I’ll let you finish and you can just come find me, yeah?”

Harry waits for her in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed before standing up almost just as fast. Then he sits back down again. His throat feels dry and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest it feels like it might burst. He’s trying to come up with what to say to her but as soon as she walks in his mind goes completely blank. He wants to believe that he is wrong, that it’s just a big misunderstanding, but her sad eyes make it hard.

She looks so soft and small as she takes a seat next to him and Harry has to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms. It’s strange and he doesn’t understand why she is being so distant. Everything was fine between them before he left for his tour and as far as he knows nothing happened while he was away.

“Have I done something wrong?” he begins.

She sighs and looks down at her hands, still doing her best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry H,” she says and her voice cracks a little at the end. Harry feels sick again. “I know I've been acting weird. Distant. I’m sorry.”

“Will you please look at me?” he begs because he can’t stand her shutting him out like she is. It’s never happened before. So when she looks up at him with tears in her eyes both relief and pangs of agony washes over him. It kills him; fills him with worry. Harry doesn’t know how he is going to get through this. This wasn’t how he had planned his return home. Far from. “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” she tells him and swallows thickly.

Harry nods and tries to stop his head from spinning so much.

“And I love you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

There it is. He knew it was coming but hearing the words come out of her mouth is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. Silence falls between them just as heavy raindrops start to fall against the windowsill outside.

“Okay,” is all he can say.

“I just - I hate missing my best friend every single day.” A tear rolls down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away, taking a shaky breath. “I feel very alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Harry says and reaches out to take her soft hands into his, holding them tight. She gives him a sad smile and laces her fingers with his. He never wants to let go.

“I know,” she replies softly. “But it feels like I am. I come home to an empty flat, have dinner on my own and watch some stupid reality show to kill time. I can’t even call you whenever I want to because you’re on stage or busy with something else. I feel like I’m just constantly waiting for you. It feels impossible for us to build a life together.”

Harry wants to tell her it’ll change. That it’ll get better. That he’ll be better. But it’s a promise he can’t make because he’s leaving again, soon. He still has shows to do in Australia, North- and South America. He still has a tour to do - and hopefully more tours in the future as well.

And he loves his job. It’s his dream. He is so grateful for everything he gets to do.

But he has never hated his job as much as he does in that moment right there, and he hates himself for that too.

“I’m here now,” he says weakly and tightens his fingers around hers.

“Yeah, I know,” she croaks and when she cups his cheek in the hand he’s not holding Harry can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch. “But you’re leaving again, what happens then? We’ve been in the same time zone and country now for three months and barely had the chance to talk - what happens when you’re on the other side of the world?”

“I’ll make time for you. I promise,” Harry tells her and blinks away his own tears that are threatening to fall.

“But you won’t be here,” she replies sadly and pulls away from him. Harry feels cold as soon as her hands leave his. He wants to scream but there is no air in his lungs. He’s losing her and he doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He’s helpless.

And when a strangled sob escapes her he thinks his heart might shatter into a million pieces. It’s the worst sound he has ever heard and it kills him knowing it’s because of him. “I hate this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m being so fucking selfish.”

“Stop,” he huffs and angles his body so he can move himself closer to her. Desperate to fix whatever is happening between them before it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles and bows her head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to make you feel bad because I know how much you love what you do and I would never ask you to stop. I love watching you on stage, it’s my favorite thing in the world... but I just- I just don’t know if I’m happy like this. I don’t like the person I become when you’re away.”

“What can I do?” Harry begs even though he knows there’s not a lot he can do right now. “I’m not losing you.” He takes her hands into his again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too Harry, so much.” Her voice trembles as she speaks and Harry feels his whole stomach drop as the next few words fall from her lips. He’s sure he is going to pass out. “Sometimes love isn’t enough though, is it?”

“What are you saying?” he whispers as he tightens his hold on her hands. She looks up at him, her glossy eyes meeting his green ones, and Harry can no longer hold back his own tears.

“I don’t know yet,” she admits, her voice low and thick. Harry tries to think of something to say that will change her mind but his head is swirling with a million different things all at once. He can’t think straight. He only knows he refuses to lose her. He won’t lose her. So he tells her that again.

“I’m not losing you.”

That night they fall asleep on different sides of the bed with their backs facing each other and Harry might just break.

May 19th.

Harry Styles ❤️ 11:34 AM We just landed in Australia. I wish you were here. I love you. xxx

May 31st.

Harry Styles ❤️ 5:47 PM Last show is done. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Let’s talk then. xxx

June.

She is tired.

The last three weeks have been brutal. Or, actually, the whole month has been brutal. Ever since she told Harry about her insecurities regarding their relationship she felt like her whole life had just fallen apart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Nothing.

She went to work and when the day was over she went straight home and watched every episode she could find of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ to numb her mind. Her co-workers express their worry when they see her come to work with the same outfit for the fourth day in a row, greasy hair and big dark circles under her eyes. They tell her to take a few days off.

But she doesn’t.

Because she needs work as a distraction. She can’t just sit at home and think about everything that happened between her and Harry before he left for Australia. The morning after their talk they hardly said a word to each other and she could see that he was hurt. It killed her knowing it was because of her.

It was just that the European tour had been harder on her than she ever could've imagined. Other than the London shows she had only been able to go to the one in Manchester and the one in Paris, but that was it. She couldn’t get more time off to go see him and whenever she finished work at the end of a long day and had time to call him he was already on stage or about to be.

They hardly spoke and it made her sad. The reality of how different their lives were slapped her hard in the face that first leg of his tour. So hard she couldn’t bring herself to be happy when he came back home to London, because she knew he was leaving again.

She figured that maybe she just needed some time to get used to having him around again and that things would go back to how they usually were after a day or so. They didn’t. Instead all she could think about was the fact that he was leaving again and how every hour that passed was an hour of their time together that was gone.

She had been stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

When he asked her to talk she knew that she would no longer be able to keep things to herself. It all just came crashing down.

She hasn’t seen Harry in almost a month now and her whole body is aching for his touch again. At the same time, she knows she has no one but herself to blame for her heartache.

She loves him. She loves him so fucking much.

She just doesn’t know if she can handle the distance. She doesn’t know if she can handle only speaking to him through text messages because of the time difference and/or because their schedules don't add up. She doesn’t know if she can handle all the rumors circulating on social media whenever he has been seen with someone she doesn’t recognize. She’s become jealous and she doesn’t like it.

But she loves him.

She knows in her heart that he is The one.

And maybe that’s why she is so fucking terrified of him leaving, because what if he never comes back to her?

She’s not sure she’s going to be able to handle it.

So when she told him she wasn’t sure if she could be with him anymore she did it so she could leave first, but then he looked at her like she had just crushed his entire soul. After spending every night for the last couple weeks replaying the moment over and over again in her head she realises she won’t ever be able to leave him. She doesn’t want to.

And now he is coming back again, after spending two weeks back home in Holmes Chapel with his family to clear his head and two weeks down under in Australia doing what he loves most, and she is still terrified. Because he might show up and tell her he’s had enough of her games and leave with her heart.

She takes that Tuesday off from work and cleans her entire flat, anxiously waiting for Harry to show up. He texted her earlier to let her know he would arrive in London by noon and would be coming over, to which she only replied an ‘okay’ because she was overthinking and didn’t know what else to say.

They never officially said the words “we are over” so she has no idea if they were still together or broken up, and she didn’t want to say something that could be misinterpreted in any way.

Then she gets another text from him asking her if she could come over to him instead because he is too jet lagged and wants to just go home and have a shower. And she convinces herself it’s only an excuse from him. An excuse to get her to come over and get all her stuff she has left laying around his house the last year, so he can remove any traces of her ever being in his life.

She still tells him she’ll be there in an hour.

That hour ends up being one of the worst hours of her life. She’s an anxious mess as she tries to get ready and ends up spilling her coffee all over her shirt and the freshly mopped floor. Her favorite cup with a small dachshund painted on it, the one Harry got her after their first date when she told she was obsessed with dachshunds, falls to the floor and breaks in half. She has a mini breakdown over it all.

She’s also about two seconds away from running over an old lady by the crossroads leading up to Harry’s house.

Then when she arrives at Harry’s house she has forgotten the code to get through his gate. She has another breakdown thinking he has changed it because he doesn’t want her to know what it is anymore.

Turns out she only missed a number.

Before she knows she is knocking on his door and just stands there waiting for him to come let her in. Normally she wouldn’t knock and just waltz right in but it didn’t feel right this time. She isn’t sure if she is even allowed to anymore.

So she waits.

When Harry finally opens the door and she is face to face with him again she feels like she might actually collapse. He looks tired, eyes puffy and cheeks rosy, but he still smiles when he sees her. And even though he has his grey hoodie up she can still see the little hair clip on top of his head that’s holding back his damp curls from falling in his face.

“Hi,” she breathes out and clasps her hands together in front of her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her heart is beating painfully hard inside her chest.

“Hi,” Harry says and takes a step forward as if he is about to pull her into a hug, but he stops himself and takes a step back again. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity, just taking each other in, before Harry clears his throat and opens the door a little wider for her. “Come in.”

As she passes him she catches a whiff of his perfume and it’s so familiar and calming that she forgets for a moment that they’ve been in a downward spiral for the last month.

But she is quickly reminded of the situation when Harry awkwardly leads her to the lounge and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Her fingers tremble a little as she pushes a couple strands of hair behind her ear. The room is quiet and cold. The whole house smells like detergent and soap, it always did when he hadn’t been home for a while, and she hates it.

“So, um, how was Australia?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the bright colorful painting that hangs on the wall above Harry’s head and avoiding his green ones that are staring her down. She’s positive he can hear how fast her heart is beating.

“It was alright,” Harry answers and tilts his head forward a little, brows drawn together, as he tries to get her to focus on him rather than the painting behind him.

“Good,” she mumbles and takes a shaky breath, still avoiding his eyes. Harry sighs deeply and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This isn’t like them. Far from. She wants to crawl into his arms; wants to feel the comfort and safety he always brings her when he holds her. Her whole body is screaming for his touch again, but her head stops her - what if he didn’t want to hold her anymore?

“We can’t go on like this,” he tells her then and her blood instantly runs cold.

This is it.

Harry is going to tell her he can’t be with her anymore and it’s her own fault. She pushed him away.

“Okay,” she whispers. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and she is quick to blink them away before they fall. But her vision is still blurry. Her throat feels tight and dry. The room is closing on her and she has to wipe her clammy hands on her pants to make sure she’s still in her own body. A huge part of her wants to run, although she is not too sure her legs will carry her. This is what she gets for pushing him away though she supposes.

“I need to know if you’re leaving or not.”

She snaps her head in his direction as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“What?”

She’s not sure she’s heard him right.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry continues and a small curl falls out of his little hair clip as he shakes his head. “I need answers from you. These past few weeks - I can’t... I need to know where we stand. I need to know if I’ve lost you.”

She blinks.

“Harry, I-“ She can't find her words. She had been so sure that he was going to tell her he was leaving her, that he was tired of her selfishness and wanted nothing more to do with her. Now her whole body is frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what Harry just told her. He looks worn out, sad, and she feels so incredibly stupid. Guilty. This mess is all her fault. “No.”

Harry inhales sharply through his nose and gives her a short nod.

“Alright.” His lips are pressed together, jaw tense, as he averts his gaze to something other than her face, refusing to look at her any longer.

“No Harry, I mean, you haven’t,” she is quick to say when she realises he had misunderstood her words. Her head is spinning. There is so much she needs to say but she doesn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t lost me. I didn’t think- I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?”

And just like that it’s all just too much. The last couple weeks washes over her as soon Harry looks at her again and she notices how glossy his eyes are. She’s overwhelmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry H,” she cries and hides her face in her hands, finally letting her tears spill over and run hot down her cheeks. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

She lets a sob rip from her throat and buries her face deeper into her hands, wishing she could just disappear. Guilt is eating away at her conscience knowing that Harry had walked around thinking she was leaving him while having to go out on stage and put on a good show for thousands of fans. She should’ve talked to him before he left. She should’ve replied to his texts. She feels like the worst fucking person in the entire world.

“Heey, noo, don’t cry.” Harry moves over to crouch down in front of her. His touch burns through the thick denim of her jeans when he puts his arms down on either side of her on the sofa, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her thighs. “Talk to me, Love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

“You’re not,” Harry says softly and gently pushes some of her hair away from her face, tapping her fingers lightly to get her to get her to remove her hands from her face and look at him again. When she peeks at him through her fingers she’s met by his small dimple. He takes the opportunity to carefully pry her hands away completely and holds them in his own. “There we go,” he murmurs. “S’just me. You can talk to me.”

“I’m scared,” she admits and runs her fingers over his rings. Harry frowns but doesn’t say anything, just lets her take her time to gather her scattered mind. It’s hard though when he is finally so close again and all she can think about is how good he smells and how familiar and soothing it is to have his hand in hers again. “I don’t know - I guess I just worry that you’ll get tired of me or feel like I’m just holding you back or that you’ll meet someone much more exciting than me while you’re away. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up one day and realise I’m just some loser who lives a boring life that you actually have no interest of being a part of... And I don’t think my heart could take it.” Her voice cracks with the last part.

Harry holds her hand a little tighter in his.

“I don’t think my heart could take it either,” he tells her.

And even though he is right in front of her, holding her hands in his, she can’t stop the feeling of hopelessness coming over her again. She doesn’t want to lose him. Refuses to be the one who leaves.

But he is going away again soon and she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do when he does. The issues of her feeling alone and insecure are still going to be there, and what happens then? Is she going to put them both through another tortures couple weeks again, where neither of them know where they stand? She can’t do that to him.

“Do you think we can make it work?” she asks him and presses her lips together to stop herself from letting another sob escape her.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully and swallows hard. “But isn’t that part of it? Not knowing. Life is far too short to worry about what might happen in the future. There is alway going to be some bad and some good. The only thing I know for certain right here, right now, is that I love you and that I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I.”

Harry smiles.

“Okay then,” he says softly and moves himself a little closer to her. “Maybe we can just leave it like that then? And we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

There's a moment of silence and she wants to stay in that moment forever. Just the two of them. It’s all she wants. Always. To just be with him.

And when Harry stands up and simultaneously pulls her with him she falls into his arms. His body is so warm against hers and as he grabs her chin and tilts her head back so he can press his soft lips to hers she knows that things will work out between them.

She loves him too much to not at least fight for it.

It will by no means be easy and she knows that when he leaves again in a couple weeks that he is going to take a piece of her heart with him.

But she also knows that she has a piece of his heart with her at all times, and that knowledge fills the small void inside her chest for many years to come.

Let me know what you think! <3

#Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles fluff #requested

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starglow-xx · 4 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada & port mafia (part 1)

platonic! edogawa ranpo x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting these fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them! but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

author’s notes: this will be a multiple part series of head canons and this is only part one! this series will include both the agency and port mafia members, and then something special for the end. maybe i’ll even write a real one shot/scenario for it. if there’s enough interest, i might open up a tag list for this! i hope you all enjoy!! <33

also, ranpo is 25 in this part; kenji, atushi, kyouka, and the tanizaki siblings aren’t part of the agency yet, only yosano, kunikida, and dazai are, but in the next couple parts, it will be established that the tanizakis are

and (n/n) means nickname :)

meeting the greatest detective

your bakery, Sakura’s, which you named after your late grandmother (who was also your guardian), went into business when you were 18 right after graduating high school

who needed a culinary course when you were trained by dear ol grandma?

your grandmother died when you were 16, just as you started your second year of high school

you were devastated of course, but you knew she wouldn’t want you to wallow over it too long

so in those last two hard years of high school, you took part time jobs at other bakeries and saved lots and lots of money

by graduation, using your life savings, the money your grandmother had left for you, and all the money you earned working, you were able to buy the small building—with a reasonable amount of money left over to survive— you and your grandmother had been eyeing back in her hometown, yokohama, to start your bakery

the building was a bit run down, but you were planning to give it a makeover anyways

it was a bit smaller compared to other buildings around, only having two stories, but on the plus side, the second floor had taller ceilings and was an apartment

is that realistic? probably not but bare with me here

aNYWHO

you finished putting your bakery up in about 4 months, then finished up your apartment 2 more after

you opened Sakura’s at 7 in the morning then closed at 8 in the evening

when you first started, you did quite well!!

especially with those who went to work on early mornings and families

the time when you first opened was the most peaceful, but you admitted that it was a bit boring, and you wished for a bit more excitement

and boy, the day edogawa ranpo stepped into your bakery was the catalyst for the chaos and excitement that was soon to come

not that you knew that

if you did you would’ve never let him in

maybe

you were 19 when ranpo discovered Sakura’s, and it was completely accidental

he finished solving a case and was on the way back to the agency, and he—not surprisingly—got lost and then it started to rain really hard

it was pouring; there was even the cliche thunder strike and everything

you saw the brown clad man across the street and you ran out with two umbrellas (almost getting hit by a car mind you) handed one to him and practically dragged him inside

with the heavy rain on the forecast, Sakura’s was empty, so you gently pushed him down on a chair and you rushed away to find towels

even though the two of you had umbrellas, the two of you were still soaked

finding said towels, you quickly dried yourself the best you could then you draped your towel over your back and rushed over to give him his as well as a warm pastry and your special hot honey lemon tea

ranpo laughed as you placed down the refreshment and snack, thinking that you knew who he was and was giving him special treatment

poor bby blinked and went :0 when you said you didn’t

“you don’t know who i am?”

“no. am i supposed to?”

“...”

the 25 year old blanked and you worried that you broke him and started to apologize profusely

he cut you off claiming that he got over it he didnt but seeing as the bakery was empty and it was pouring pretty badly, he demanded you give him all your attention sit with him so he could tell you all about himself and what he’s done

the two of you got along quite well

you were amazed with all the stories he’s told you

you honestly acted like a cute little kid listening to fairytales

he told you that and in response you threw a napkin at him

“wow ranpo-san! that’s amazing!!”

“you look like a little kid”

cue the napkin

he was happy with all the attention, praise, and sweets you gave him

the agency gave him praise sure, and made sure he had a lot of snacks but it was refreshing to have someone give him this much and your treats were the best he’s ever had

after he told you all his most interesting cases, the two of you just rambled about the most randomest things; going from the best desserts and snacks to the stupidest things his coworkers have done

you guys were on that last topic for a while

you two talked and rambled for hours, and when it hit hour two and the rain was still pouring, you just went ahead and slipped the “we’re open” sign to “closed” even though it was only 2 o’clock

you thought that this was probably the loving goofy older brother relationship that you missed out on

“ranpo-san, you’re kind of like the brother i’ve never had”

“and you’re still like that little kid”

cue another napkin to the face

don’t worry, he already adores you <3

he just likes to make fun of you </3

*cuts you off as you’re talking to squish your cheeks* “(y/n) you still have a lot of baby fat and you’re pretty short...are you sure you’re still not in high school or smth??”

*incoherent talking due to pressure on cheeks* “ranpo-san you have 3 seconds before i kick you out”

at around 6, the rain came to a stop and by then, the both of you were all dried up

before he left, you gave him a map so that he hopefully wouldn’t get lost again and gave him a couple boxes of treats for him to have and to share with his coworkers

you closed early so you had to give away at least some of the remaining treats somehow

he wanted you to go to agency with him so he didn’t have to carry everything but you declined saying that you didn’t want to bc you wanted to rest

and for payback for calling you a little kid

you were 19 goddamnit

you already placed everything neatly into two bags so it was easy to carry but this bitch still had the audacity to pout and whine at you

and he calls you the little kid, jeez

you never told him but, you almost gave in

you never told him. but he probably already knows

ranpo san knows all after all; even you knew that by now

the two of you had also exchanged phone numbers and when the two of you showed each other what you each put for a contact name along with the note below, the two of you broke out into grins

you named him “the greatest detective <33″ & put the note “new nii-san <33 & bully </3″ and he named you “cute bakery girl” with the note “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

when he left, you properly closed the bakery and taped a sign to the door saying that you closed early for personal reasons

when everything was cleaned up, you marched up into your bedroom, plopped on your bed, and took a nap

you deserved it

at the agency not too long after that, ranpo had arrived and when he opened the door, everyone rushed towards him in concern asking if he was okay

he waved them off and walked towards his desk and plopped down in his seat

he placed the two bags in front of him and took out a box of cream puffs and started to snack on them

his coworkers watched him blankly as his scarfed down one after another

after finishing that box, he rummaged through the bags to look through the different kinds of pastries you’ve given him

noticing that there were people still staring at him he paused before sighing in exasperation

he began to whine at his coworkers saying that no one told him it was gonna rain and that they were lucky that he happened to be in front of Sakura’s

“why did no one tell me?! it was pouring and i was soaked! you guys are lucky that (n/n)-chan’s bakery was right there! you would’ve probably lost me! how would the agency even function without me here?!”

no one wanted to be the one to tell him that they had no idea who he was talking about and that they did in fact tell him that it was gonna pour

they can save that, and their questions for another time

next >>

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

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robinofgothamcity · 4 years

Text

♡ starting prompt: “were you ever going to tell me?”

♡ pairing: dick grayson (S1 YJ Robin) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “take a ride up to Malibu, I just wanna sit and look at you, look at you. what would it matter if your friends knew? who cares what other people say anyway.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

both you and Dick walked out of Gotham Academy, laughing at some stupid joke he made as the two of you walked to the nearest coffee shop. the two of you religiously bought coffee and hung out every Thursday after school until it was time to head home.

you and Dick, unknown to each other9, had commitments to the YJ team and usually had to meet the team later in the night and today happened to be one of those days.

you really weren’t in the mood to go out for a patrol tonight but on Saturday, you had accepted to be Dick’s date to the winter formal Gotham Academy was holding and you had to excuse yourself from patrolling duties for the night.

you knew Diana would have no issue in you missing for one night but the team on the other hand would probably throw a fit for it.

whenever there was time to lounge around, you usually hid behind a domino mask and a beanie to cover your hair. your uniform on the other hand was very much like Wally’s. it pulled over your head and covered some of your face and most of your hair so it went unnoticed by everyone.

you were very similar to Robin in that aspect. the two of you hid your identities extremely well and no one outside of your mentors knew who you truly were. Wonder Woman had especially emphasized that a kid still in school should not reveal their real identity and if you wanted to once you turned 18, you could, but until then, she made you swear to never reveal who you were.

“what has you in such deep thought?” Dick asked, giving you a smile. you shook your head, “nothing. just stuff with school,” you replied. Dick had saw the bruises and cuts on your legs that you tried to hide, “you have more bruises?” he asked.

“I told you my MMA training went hard last night,” you exclaimed, “I had a partner that was double my size and she nearly wanted to kill me,” you tried to joke.

you could tell that Dick wasn’t believing what you were saying, “but you shouldn’t be the one to talk! you have a gash running down your arm! don’t think I didn’t notice,” you retaliated. he immediately tried to explain himself, “acrobatics is an intense hobby!” he replied.

you gave him a look before shoving him playfully onto the grass. Dick pushed you back as the two of you finally arrived to the coffee shop. you put your bag down in the booth before meeting Dick at the line.

“just be careful! those cuts and bruises look intense,” he said a bit more seriously. you squeezed his arm in agreement, “of course but same goes for you. the gash on your arm looks pretty deep,” you stated, running your finger on the now healing gash.

he paid for both of your drinks and the two of you made your way to the booth and took out your books.

you had befriended Dick when he first arrived to Gotham Academy. since he was the adopted son to Bruce Wayne, everyone wanted to befriend the son of the man who ran Gotham with an iron fist. you on the other hand had to befriend him because you were the captain of the Mathlete’s team.

that was the club Dick first wanted to join and although he didn’t know exactly how to join, he saw that you were in his AP Calc BC class and saw the jacket you carried around with the medals you on won on it. he quietly followed you to the auditorium that day and scooped out the team before embarrassingly introducing him and explaining why he wanted to join.

you instantly clicked with him and tried him out for the team for a few days when you realized that he was probably the second smartest on the team. he won a plaque on his first round of tournaments and gained honoree status not long after.

“god, I feel like Brunner is killing us with the amount of work he’s giving us,” you growled into your textbook, “does he not realize that people have lives and jobs?” you continued to complain.

Dick shook his head, “not like he cares. he’s just a bitter old man who wants to make us suffer,” he admitted. you laughed, accidentally choking on your coffee by the comment, “it’s true! he knows everyone is excited about the formal so he probably piled on work to make us suffer,” Dick continued.

you threw him your paper as he quickly dodged it. the two of you worked through the worksheets until you felt your communicator go off. you discreetly looked down and saw that Kaldur was calling everyone to Mount Justice for a new mission.

“hey Dick, I have to go,” you admitted a bit sadly, “my mom wants me home to babysit my niece and she needs me home in a few minutes.” Dick nodded understandingly, “yeah, Bruce seems like he needs me home too. see you tomorrow?” he asked, “of course!”

the two of you practically darted in different directions as you ran to the nearest zeta tube location. it was inside of an old building as you quickly discarded your uniform, putting it inside of your bag as you pulled on your other uniform.

as soon as you arrived to Mount Justice, you saw everyone crowding around the table that Red Tornado was explaining the mission at. you stood next to Kaldur and Connor, flashing them an ‘i’m sorry for being really late’ smile. Kaldur patted your shoulder as the table shut off after the instructions were finished.

“so, the pairs are, Wally, Artemis and I, Connor and M’Gann, and ( your name ) with Robin,” Kaldur explained, “since both of you know Gotham Academy well, the two of you will be patrolling inside the school while Connor and M’gann gather the information we need from the teacher.”

you and Robin high-fived, quickly getting on the motorcycles and racing towards the school. you weren’t particularly close with Robin but when the two of you were a team, it was nearly impossible to stop the two of you. the chemistry when you both fought together didn’t go unnoticed by anyone and Kaldur tended to pair you up together when he knew Wally and Robin would goof off the whole time.

“so, you go to Gotham Academy?” Robin asked. you nodded, “I do! I had no idea you went there,” you replied, “I wonder if we’ve ever met each other,” Robin joked.

you gave him a look, “please, I doubt it. I get the sense that you’d probably be really popular and I am the farthest from that,” you admitted. Robin gave you a look, “trust me, I am not popular. are you in any clubs?” Robin asked.

a part of you screamed to tell him but another part of you told you no, “I am but for the sake of keeping my identity a secret, I would rather not say,” you said empathetically. Robin waved your off, “no, I completely understand. the Bat would kill me if he found out someone knew who I was,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “yeah, Wonder Woman would lasso me into another dimension if I did the same.”

once the two of you parked your motorcycles into the parking lot and sneaked your way inside. you both landed by the auditorium and started to walk around.

the patrolling went by with mild conversation. since you had to inform Kaldur about both of you coordinates every few minutes, that was probably the only time you spoke up. it wasn’t until you passed the glass shelves that held all of the Mathlete trophies that you made a sudden stop.

“do you know someone on the team?” Robin asked, gulping his nervousness down a bit. “yeah, I have two friends on the team. one of which I think I like,” you admitted sheepishly.

Robin gave you a smirk, “oh, tell me! tell me! I want to know!” he exclaimed excitedly. you shoved him against the wall, “no! because if you know him? then you’re going to tell him!” you whisper-yelled. Robin waved you off, basically begging you to tell him, “fine, if I tell you then you’re going to have to swear that you’ll never tell him,” you stated.

he nodded as you discreetly opened the glass door and took the photo out, “it’s Dick Grayson. he’s so....” you trailed off not knowing to what to say as you stared at the photo mesmerized. Robin remained silent, standing as stiff as a board, “really?” he whispered.

“yeah, is that an issue?” you asked, a bit surprised by his reaction, “no, not at all. plus, I can’t even lie, the person I’ve been dying to ask out is also on the team,” your eyebrows fluttered to confusion as stared at him, “I told you who my crush is so it’s only fair you tell me!” you said.

Robin shook his head no, “AH! nope! you’re telling me! I told you my crush on Dick and now you have to tell me! plus, I didn’t know you were gay,” you said off-handedly. Robin stared at you now in more confusion, “I’m not? not that there would be an issue with that if I was but regardless, where did you get that idea?” he asked.

you held back your laugh, “I mean, the team is mostly guys unless you have a crush on her,” you pointed to yourself jokingly. Robin didn’t say anything as the silence basically answered your question, “wait, do you have a crush on her?” you asked a bit more seriously now.

“yeah, it’s her. she’s in a few of my classes and my god, she’s gorgeous,” he said “everything I look in for a girl.” your heart stopped dead in it’s tracks as Robin’s communicator went off indicating that Connor and M’Gann got what they needed.

you hadn’t said much after Robin had confessed his crush to you. you had no idea that it was going to be you who he was and although now you were dying to know his true identity, you knew you shouldn’t even bother with it. plus, Robin probably felt the same way you did when you confessed your crush on Dick.

after all of you told Red Tornado the information, you quickly departed from the team, telling them you had to be up at 6:00 to get ready for school. Robin could tell that after he admitted his crush to you, you felt a certain way about it but if anything, he should be the one weirded out. you had a crush on him! but considering your identity was sealed shut, he would never know who it really was that liked him unless he figured out your true identity.

the next morning, you woke up and put on your uniform as you ran your fingers over the burgundy colored gown you were wearing tomorrow. you were beyond excited to be Dick’s date to the formal and you had to be at his place at five to catch dinner before the dance.

once you made it to school, you greeted Dick with a smile, “mornin’ Grayson!” you said happily. he responded by putting his arm around you with the same amount of excitement you had, “what has you so excited today?” he asked.

“nothing! just something you shouldn’t worry about! how was your night?” you asked. you felt Dick’s body go stiff as he tried to conjure up some lie, “fine! Bruce had me doing some work for Wayne Enterprises and it practically put me into the grave,” he joked.

the two of you walked to your math class, slumping immediately into your seats as the morning announcements went off. you were doodling in your notebook as Dick kept muttering to himself about something you couldn’t quiet understand.

throughout the entire day, you could sense that Dick’s attention was not exactly spot on. his mind seemed to be on cloud nine and once the end of the day came, he had a bunch of theories written inside of his notebook about ( your hero name ) and who could she possibly be.

“Dick, you’ve been off all day!” you said now a bit annoyed, “is something wrong?” you asked again. he shook his head no, “no, I’m more than okay! just excited about tomorrow is all,” he replied. you nodded, “me too! I’ll be at your house around five so we can eat dinner and head to the dance,” you mentioned as you saw your mom pull up.

“see ya tomorrow!” Dick exclaimed.

first thing Saturday morning, your mom shook you awake. she said that your stylist would be here any minute to get your hair/makeup done and you needed to shower before then.

you quickly hopped into the shower while you pulled on some pajamas for the time being. as soon as you got out, you brushed your hair and teeth before walking to the living room to see the stylist preparing her things on the kitchen table.

“ready love?” she asked sweetly. you nodded, “ready as ever!” you replied as you sat down.

the time she did your hair, you were making small talk until you heard a knock on the door. your mom mentioned she’d get it and went to the door. when she got back, she was holding a bag of food.

“I think Dick sent you food,” she joked as she read the note, “oh yeah, it was 100% him,” she said as she showed you the note.

“can’t wait for tonight! your favorite from Scouts is inside of the boxes.”

“aw, how sweet of him!” your stylist said, “yeah, he’s one of a kind,” you said not realizing what you were saying. your mom could see the love for him in your eyes and swooned silently.

after your hair was done, you had basically devoured the food before your stylist got to work on your makeup. this time, it didn’t take as much time. by the time she finished, you had about an hour to put on your dress and do the finishing touches to your look before you had to leave.

the dress was short from the front as it got longer from the back. it kind of dragged but that was what made you fall in love with it in the first place. you pulled the dress from your closet and had your mom help you zip it up as she put on the necklace she wore the day of her winter formal on you.

“you look amazing sweety! let me take a few photos before we head out!”

you rolled your eyes playfully as you posed a few times. after you and her got into the car, you made your way to the manor. you had been there countless times and knew the gate code by memory by this point. you had messaged Dick that you were outside and saw him in the suit he was wearing.

“wow, you look gorgeous,” Dick whispered, taking you in. you tried to shake off the compliment but you couldn’t as both Alfred and your mom told you to hold still as they took photos. it wasn’t long after that Bruce came out, introducing himself to your mom and instantly making her swoon, “I’ll see you tonight,” she told you as she gave Dick a look, “take care of my daughter,” she stated, now more seriously.

Dick nodded nervously as Alfred led you into the dining room where the dinner was plated and ready to eat. it didn’t feel like a date as eating with Dick was not uncommon. this time, you both were just dressed extremely fancy.

Alfred had made you steak and the two of you basically downed it like starving caveman. you and Dick made sure that you didn’t stain yourselves as Alfred informed that the car was warmed up and ready to take you to the dance. Dick had excused himself to the bathroom as Bruce stood in front of you.

you gulped nervously as he basically towered over you, “please continue making my son happy,” was all he said before leaving back upstairs. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as Dick walked in and basically pulled you towards the car.

the formal was already going when the two of you arrived. you could hear the music blaring from outside and in order to get in, you had to pass the ‘paparazzi’ Gotham Academy set up. you two annoyingly took the photos that were being taken by people from the yearbook team and entered the auditorium.

you smiled at Dick as you both found a few of your mutual friends and sat down with them. the night was one you knew you weren’t going to forget as Dick had his arm around you the entire time. you could feel him squeezing your shoulder every time he noticed someone checking you out.

“I love this song!” you exclaimed, hearing ‘New Light’ by John Mayer playing, “wanna dance?” he asked. you instantly nodded and walked onto the dance floor.

“Oh I want a take two. I wanna break through. I wanna know the real thing about you so I can see you in a new light.”

the two of you danced, a bit closer than you intended but not that you were complaining.

song after song came and it wasn’t until you heard a beep going off when you realized what was happening. it was the teams communicator indicating that Kaldur wanted everyone at Mount Justice again. you sighed knowing if you didn’t answer, you’d probably get berated for skipping out.

secondly, you had told Kaldur unless it was an emergency, not to contact you so it must’ve been urgent if he was. you stared at Dick who was standing by the table, staring at something when you realized you had to break the news to him.

“hey Dick, there was an emergency at home and I need to leave like right now.” you felt tears pricking your eyes as you just wanted to tell the team to fuck off for ruining your night with Dick, “it’s okay! Bruce called me just now and said something happened to Alfred and I should head home,” he said.

you sighed in relief as you told him you hoped everything with Alfred was okay and you’d see him on Monday. it now had dawned on you that your spare uniform was inside of Mount Justice and you would have no time to get the one from your house.

the only thing you had on you was your domino mask which you knew would make due until you changed into your uniform. you found the nearest zeta tube and teleported to Mount Justice.

your hero name rang off through the telecom, catching everyone’s attention. you had slipped on your domino mask but your worst fear thus far came true. everyone was surrounding the zeta tube which you came from and saw your hair.

“wow, you look great,” Connor and Wally murmured to themselves. Kaldur slapped them in the head as he stared at your apologetically, “I know tonight was your night off but Rob isn’t here either and we both need you for this mission. some of the league is on their way and we need their approval before we go save the kids who are being held hostage,” Kaldur explained.

you heard Robin’s name ring through the lair as he ran in with urgency. you looked from Kaldur and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. it took Robin a few seconds to look at you but when he did, it was like he saw a ghost in front of him.

behind his sunglass and your domino mask, it was like a stare off. you felt like the wind was knocked out of you and held onto the table to catch your balance as Robin just stood in place.

“uh is something wrong?” Wally asked seeing your reactions. both you and Robin were stunned into silence as you didn’t know what to say. Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman’s name now rang through the lair as they entered the main floor.

they couldn’t help but wonder what was going on as a thick silence was hanging in the air. both Batman and Wonder Woman immediately realized the situation and looked at each other as they put two and two together. the two of you, unintentionally revealed your identities to each other, and Batman more than Wonder Woman knew the two of you were going to be together tonight but what he didn’t expect was that the two of you were going to the lair dressed in the outfits you both wore to the dance.

“Superman will accompany you on the trip. ( your hero name ) and Robin will stay back,” everyone looked at Batman as Wonder Woman nodded and grabbed you by the shoulder, Batman doing the same with Robin, “why? what happened?” Wally exclaimed.

“nothing that concerns you Flash, now follow Superman’s orders,” was all Batman said before taking you two into an empty room with Diana following behind you.

as soon as the door shut, you stared at Dick, his mask now off as you did the same. you didn’t know how to feel. your crush, your best friend, someone you loved dearly this entire time was also on the team and you had no idea what to do.

“so, as you can see we have a situation. both of you know each others identities and it’s best we keep it between each other. she now knows my real identity and will remain the only one who does know.”

Diana nodded, “the two of you now hold each others biggest secret and I think it’s best we both leave so you can talk it out,” she mentioned as she escorted Batman out of the room to leave you guys alone.

Dick stared at you as he tried to read your expression, “all this time we left each other for stupid reasons, we were meeting each other again, just in our different identities?” was what he said. you nodded, “were you ever going to tell me?” you whispered.

Dick walked up to you and held you close, “truthfully, when the time was right and with the bat’s approval, I was. everything I’ve ever said, tonight, the night we patrolled school together, everything! I meant it. you’re my best friend. you’re also someone I want to keep by my side together,” he finally confessed.

you stared up at Dick before doing the one thing you always wanted to do. you leaned up and kissed him deeply. he was completely taken back but kissed you back. your arms wrapped his neck as he brought you in even closer.

“wow, this was not how I expected the night to go,” you murmured against his lips, “for sure but I mean, we have the lair tonight and it’s completely empty. I want to give you that final dance of the night,” he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the main floor again.

you stared at Dick and took his hand as he swayed you to the song you first danced back at the formal.

“take a ride up to Malibu, I just wanna sit and look at you, look at you. what would it matter if your friends knew? who cares what other people say anyway.”

#dc #DC imagines #dc imagine #young justice #young justice imagine #yj imagines #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #robin imagine #robin x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n

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