#i think about it and it seems like the right thing to do. thrift stores make me so happy and i want to help them in their mission!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latetaektalk · 20 days

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love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?”

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything.

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head.

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit.

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get.

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak.

“What if… you don’t go?”

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it.

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself.

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.”

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days.

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.”

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.”

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm.

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning.

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead.

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips.

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold.

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?”

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.”

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it.

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you.

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill.

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect.

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-”

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.”

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling.

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it.

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his.

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.”

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable.

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line.

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head.

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.”

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before.

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes.

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room.

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all.

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go?

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same.

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae.

It was Taehyung.

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.

“We weren’t arguing.”

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know.

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you.

Neither of you said anything.

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from.

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice.

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess.

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did.

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact.

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope.

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways.

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all.

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?”

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you.

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious.

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart?

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask.

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name.

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too.

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you.

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart.

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.”

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious.

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him.

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway.

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too.

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be?

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand?

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him?

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes.

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack.

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him.

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no.

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed.

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down.

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window.

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him.

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son.

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes.

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?”

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him.

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into.

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did.

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything.

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs.

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen.

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you!

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat.

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off.

“Y/N!”

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy.

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now.

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run.

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand.

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more.

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that?

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again.

He had to hate you.

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair.

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists.

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!”

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale.

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point.

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!”

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes.

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead.

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much.

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground.

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood.

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook implied smut #bts x reader

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meowsforyujin · 2 months

Text

Obsessed- Hyunjin x fem reader

roommates/friends to lovers

Warnings!!( fingering, drinking, riding, unprotected sex(don’t do it), pet names, hyunjins cocky and obsessive )

To say that Hyunjin was obsessed with you was an understatement.

He knew everything about you, even things you didn’t know about yourself. You two had been roommates for two years now, easily hitting it off when Hyunjin moved in. Hyunjin was nothing but a stranger at first, only moving into your small apartment from a craigslist ad. But it really didn’t take long for you two to become best friends. You literally did everything together.

But this was never enough for Hyunjin, he knew from the beginning living with you would be difficult. The moment he saw you he’d been more intrigued then he’d ever been by a woman in his life. Hyunjin wasn’t described as a gentleman, to say the least. He wasn’t a bad person, just a bit of an immature pervert. So he could never for the life of him figure out why he was so suddenly drawn to you in a way he’d never experienced the first day he saw you.

It’s not that you aren’t attractive, you definitely are. It’s that the first day he saw you, you were in the most seemingly “unattractive” outfit ever. Obviously he thought it was attractive, and that's what he found weird. The first day he saw you, you looked like you had just rolled out of bed after a 3 month hibernation. You were walking like a literal zombie, slumping around barely giving him a tour. You were wearing a big t-shirt that did your figure no justice, with the word “nope.” printed in the middle, which might have been the most stupid T-shirt he’d ever seen. When he asked you what your shirt meant you only shrugged, saying it was a dollar at the thrift store. Your Pj pants had been way too long, he’d almost missed your mis-matched spongebob socks. Your hair in the messiest bun he’d ever seen, baby hairs framing your face so well. You were wearing clear framed glasses that were way too big, you had to keep pushing them up on your nose. You wore one single ring on your thumb, in the shape of a skull. It was an odd choice, but he was so heavily intrigued by it.

Hyunjin had never met anyone as unbothered as you either. He always tried to make you jealous, but you never seemed to care. He’d talk about bringing girls home and warn that she would probably be super loud, and you’d simply shrug, “Okay have fun, just don't give her my food.” you’d say.

He’s also never seen you with a guy over, ever. You did have your cousin Changbin over quite often, but that's your cousin. Hyunjin always wondered if you’d ever even touched a man. Surely you had, but he never asked because he really, really didn’t like to think about it. He would always struggle to hide his jealousy when any guy showed you any interest. You’d always reject them though, much to Hyunjin’s relief. Anytime a girl came up to him, he’d search you for any sort of jealous reaction, and never succeeded. In fact, you’d tease him about it later without any problem.

But Hyunjin was cocky. He was sure you liked him. Did he have any proof or reason to think so? Technically no, but he was Hwang Hyunjin and that was reason enough for him.

-present-

“Hey Y/nnnnn” Hyunjin pokes at your sides, trying to get your attention.

“Whaaaat.” You sigh, rolling your eyes, turning from your computer to face him.

“Guess what”

“Chicken Butt.”

“No, seriously guess.”

“I’m busy hwang, cut to the chase.”

“Luna and I are going out again tonight, I think things are gonna get serious soon.”

“That’s great Hyunjin, can’t wait to meet her.” He searches your face for any sign of discomfort or annoyance, and only finds sincerity.

“You want to meet her?” He blinks, expecting you to get mad or something. (cocky right?)

“Why wouldn't I? Since when has the great ‘Hwang Hyunjin’ been serious about anyone?”

Since you.

“I don’t know, I’ll ask her if we can make plans for you guys to meet soon.” He hopes you don’t hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Great, well I’m gonna invite some of the guys over tonight for a horror movie and beer pong, you and Luna are welcome to join after your date, unless you guys go back to her house instead.” You wink at him and it causes a red hue to tint his face. You figure it’s caused by the comment about fucking his ‘girlfriend’, but it’s of course it isn’t.

-time skip, three hours later.-

You had seriously been having one of the best times of your life tonight, but you couldn’t help but be disappointed that Hyunjin wasn’t there.

“What’s up? Why so glum?” Jisung asks, nudging your arm with his elbow.

“Nothing.” you flash him a weak smile.

“Lemme guess, you miss Hyunjin? Where is he anyway?” Jisung asks, looking around.

“He’s out with Luna.”

“Who’s that?”

You blink at him, not knowing if he was being sarcastic or not, “The girl Hyunjin has been going out with?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”, you’re shocked that Hyunjins childhood best friend has never heard of his new ‘girlfriend’.

“He’s literally gone on dates her three days in a row, like literally yesterday they went to the movies.”

“No, I was with Hyunjin yesterday, unless you know that and are trying to insult me.” He grins.

“Wait What? Why would he lie then?”

“No clue, but you should know better. He’d never date anyone having you around.” You looked at him confused, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes. “Nevermind.”

“Nooo tell me.” You whined, tugging at his arms.

“How do you not see it?”

“Han Jisung can you please tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.” Your patience was wearing thin, but you still needed to know.

“How do you not notice the way Hyunjin looks at you? He always stares at you like he wants to fucking EAT you it’s gross. But then, he won't shut. up. about you. Everytime we’re together it’s ‘Y/n this, Y/n tha,’ it's sickening. Like, you both should just get married already for Christ’s sake.”

You stare at him for a bit, not knowing what to say.

“You think Hyunjin likes me?” Your voice breathier than you intend.

“Oh my god yes. Why do you think he has a pile of your clothes in his closet? Or he excuses himself everytime he sees you in his clothes to jerk off? Or when he sits next to you while you're working just to WATCH you. I’ve literally never seen him so obsessed with someone. He literally brings a tissue sprayed with your perfume when he goes out. It’s concerning honestly.”

Everything starts to dawn on you then and there, was Hyunjin trying to make you jealous with the whole Luna thing? Is THAT why he always tried to tell you gross details you didn’t want to know?

Well shit, you thought. Obviously you had to come up with some sort of plan for when he came home.

-time skip, hour and a half later-

You somehow came up with a good enough excuse to send everyone home, and now Hyunjin was expected to walk through the door any minute. You’re currently laying on his bed, in literally nothing but his T-shirt and underwear, your nipples very visible. You’re reading (not really) a book, with your legs up, resting the book on your lap. You are very aware of the almost clear view of your pink laced underwear.

You heard Hyunjin walk in, assuming you're asleep since everyone’s gone and the apartment was dead quiet. Your heart beats faster as you hear his footsteps getting nearer, until he stops in his tracks after seeing you.

“Y-Y/n?” He couldn’t help the nervousness in his voice.

“Hyunjinnn!” You smile, putting your book down and getting up to hug him. “Why were you out so late?”

“O-Oh me and Luna, went to her house after.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Of course you did, you know, I don’t like her very much.”

“Why?” Hyunjin was genuinely confused by your sudden confession.

“I don’t know, it just bothers me how much time you spend with her. I bet she’s not even that pretty, definitely not as pretty as me.” Hyunjin tries to bite back a smile, but you catch him anyway.

Without warning you pulled him close, and whispered in his ear, “Bet that’s what you wanted to hear, right?” His breath hitches, not used to having you so close, especially like this.

He almost whines when you pull away, walking back towards his bed. “Sorry I borrowed one of your shirts, figured you wouldn’t mind given the fact that you take my clothes all the time.” You point to the pile of clothes you had pulled out from his closet that belong to you.

You almost laugh at Hyunjin’s shocked expression. “I can explain!” He stammered nervously, trying to find an explanation. “First you lie to me, then you steal my clothes, honestly what am I going to do with you?” You stare at him, placing your hands on your hips.

“What lie? I lied to you?”

You let out a dark chuckle, causing Hyunjin’s dick to twitch in his pants. He was so focused on the way you looked in his shirt, that he didn’t notice how painfully obvious his bulge was.

“I didn’t know Jisung was with you and Luna yesterday, and neither did he actually. In fact, he claims he’s never even heard of a Luna.” Hyunjin can’t do anything but gulp. He really didn’t know your plan here.

“Sit on the bed Hyun.” You say simply. And like a lost puppy, he mindlessly listened to you.

He’s taken aback when you straddle his lap, but couldn’t help his arms snaking around your waist. “You see Hyun, I like you very much but I didn’t think you felt the same. Especially because I don’t see myself as the type you’d like. But Jisung told me quite a few of your dirty secrets.” Your voice was laced with dominance as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I like you alot.” He practically blurts out, like he’d die if he didn’t say it. “Hmm yeah? How much?”, you purr, dragging your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I Like you so much it hurts, no, I love you so much it hurts. To see you every day and not be able to just hold you and tell you how much I love you? Or to not just pin you to the counter and blow your back out when you wear those stupid thrift store t-shirts that are longer than your tiny shorts? To not be able to see your face when you sing those stupid songs in the shower?” You shut him up with a kiss, because you swear if he keeps going you’ll give up your dominance.

You were surprised at first, the way he kisses you. It was so gentle, so intimate, it almost makes you want to stop this all and just cuddle him for the rest of the night.

But then the kiss becomes needy and desperate. You bite his bottom lip slightly, and waste no time slipping your tongue in his mouth. You can’t lie, you’ve fantasized about his lips alone for so long. So plump, so beautiful.

Hyunjin groans when you softly grind on him, pushing your hips closer to him. He pulls away from your lips and quickly attaches them to your neck, pulling a beautiful lacy whimper from you. His teeth grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You reach down to tug his shirt off, which he quickly complied. You take it upon yourself to take off your (hyunjin’s) shirt as well.

“Fuck me.” He groans, staring at your chest. You chuckle at him before bringing his right hand up to cup your breast. That was enough of a green light for him to take your left nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one.

You let out a surprised yelp at the sensation, starting to grind down on Hyunjin again, but this time much harder. He groans into your chest, egging you on further.

You bring your hand down to touch yourself lightly over your underwear, mouth falling open. “Let me help.” Hyunjin grunted, his hand moving from your breast to your underwear. He somehow manages to get your underwear off rather quickly, and begins to run his fingers up and down your folds.

“So wet, bet you’re nice and warm already.” He breaths, slicking his fingers in your arousal. Hyunjin slips a finger into you rather easily, groaning at how your insides felt. You moan rather loudly, not expecting his singular finger to feel so nice inside of you. He added another finger, pumping them both in and out.

“Fuck.” You breathed, grinding down on his fingers. He suddenly curls them, pressing up on a spot that makes you squim.

“Yes Hyune, like that baby.” You moan satisfied with the feeling.

Hyunjin is having way to much fun finger fucking you, he nearly whines when you pull off of them.

“Gonna cum on your cock hyun, can you take that?”

Usually Hyunjin wouldn’t ever have a girl talk to him that way. He wasn’t a fan of being submissive. But it’s not any girl this time. It’s you.

He desperately nods. You hum in satisfaction, pulling out his dick in awe. You grind on his member softly, spreading yourself all over it. Hyunjin whines, and you give him a pitiful look before positioning yourself over his dick.

The moment you sink down on him, he’s far gone, enveloped in your delicious heat. He looks so beautiful, eyes drooping, mouth hung open with a hint of drool slipping from the sides.

“Stay with me pretty boy, or I won’t let you cum.”

You had him at pretty boy, and he was snapped back into reality, licking and nipping at your nipples once again. Your back arched at the sensation, not really wanting to go slow anymore.

You began bouncing up and down on him, fingers tangled tightly in his hair. You both were moaning messes, thrusting up sloppily into each other, trying to meet each other’s pace.

You clench down as you felt him twitch, slightly relieved that you were both close.

“Are you close, baby?” You coo at him, never slowing your pace. Hyunjin nods timidly. “Me too baby, please cum with me.” Your voice whimpering slightly at the end.

You swear you had the best orgasm of your life, riding out your high along with him.

You both laid next to each other, panting heavily.

“So,” you spoke, breaking the silence, “..can I have my clothes back?”

“No, you only get to wear mine from now on.”

A/n: guys I’m sorry I’m so bad at ending stuff but I rlly like this one actually :) it might be my favorite but there’s still so much room for improvement

#kpop fanfic #stray kids #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut

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wheeboo · 12 days

Text

laundry day | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!

join the 2k celebration!

You are so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?

You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.

Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.

Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"

He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.

Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"

The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.

Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"

"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋

"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."

You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.

"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.

"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"

You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.

A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.

"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."

His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."

Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?

"No."

"Or it can't be postponed?"

"Nope."

"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"

"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.

Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"

"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."

Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.

"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."

"You're cute."

"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"

Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.

"I said you're really dumb."

That is not what he said.

For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?

Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.

"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.

Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.

The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.

"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."

You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"

You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.

"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"

"𑁋because I'm cute?"

"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."

You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."

"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.

You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."

Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.

You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.

"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."

"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."

Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."

"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."

Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"

"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."

A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."

You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."

another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA

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islandofsages · 3 months

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So i got some silly idea, Can i request Savanaclaw dorm with male raccoon beastman reader 🦝 (who is also a third year Savanaclaw student) that likes to ✨ collect trash ✨ and ✨ dumpster driving ✨ Like, He is not poor but he just likes to do that. Thanks! Have a great day!

characters: the savanaclaw boys x male raccoon beastman third year reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines format

warnings: none

author's notes: i feel like i made dumpster-diving sound like thrifting in this ... i love thrifting can you tell

Leona Kingscholar

“...Whaddya think ya’re doing?”

Oh, you thought it was obvious but apparently not. You're dumpster diving obviously

A better question would be what is Leona Kingscholar doing near a bunch of dumpsters. You point this out to him

He actually seems to ponder that question for a second. What is he doing there, entertaining some dumpster-diver? Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter

His face merely contorts into an irritated frown and he mumbles something about “fucking raccoon beastpeople and their weird habits” then walks off

You watch his silhouette grow smaller by the second then shrug to yourself. His loss

He doesn’t say anything when you come back to the dorms carrying the junk you get from your scavenging but you can tell he’s somewhat curious of what you found

One time you come back bringing a wholeass couch and it’s somehow in mint condition - he’s more bewildered by the people who’s throwing the trash than you at this point

It’s definitely not for him but as long as you don’t bother him and that you’re happy, he doesn’t say a word about your habits.

Jack Howl

He tries not to be too judgemental since there’s all kinds of people in NRC and he feels like he’s definitely seen weirder things by now

He’s a little confused but he got the spirit! Spirit of what exactly? Spirit of supporting you and respecting his upperclassmen obviously

He’s somewhat stiff around you since you’re older and he doesn’t want to offend you in any way - so you make an effort to make him more comfortable around you

You’d tell him about what you find in your little adventures and he seems to be amused by the kind of stuff people easily throw away here

“That’s part of the magic! Plus, once you get used to the stench and filth, it’s really not all that bad.”

He believes and trusts your words but he still won’t try it for himself. He’ll leave it all up to you and your expertise

Sooner or later, with enough storytelling, a smile on his face becomes a common look for him whenever you’re around

You’d even bring him back stuff you found that you think he’d like (after thoroughly washing them and bringing them back to the best condition of course)

Whenever you see him use the stuff you give to him, whether it’s a decoration in his room or it’s on his person, you feel a little proud of the bond you’ve nurtured with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

He understands the need to stoop to that level but when you tell him you don’t even need the stuff you collect and just do it for fun, he’s silent for a bit

Still won’t judge you for it! Plus sometimes he gets the good stuff from your scavenges so he’s not complaining

Once he gets curious enough, he’ll tag along on the diving… and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

It’s stinky and dirty but sometimes he really hits the jackpot in some of the dumpsters. It’s like a thrift store but even cheaper somehow

“(Y/N), look at what I found! Are you seeing this right now?”

You unironically become dumpster-diving buddies and the two of you would review the stuff you got after each session to decide if you’re going to keep some or not

You guys can probably get a lot of clout if you start a YouTube channel

You two grow a lot closer after enlightening him of the joys of dumpster-diving, which you aren’t too surprised about since it’s a common bonding experience for you raccoon beastpeople

But as you look back on your memories of junk-collecting and look forward towards Ruggie's laugh, you can’t help but laugh with him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x male reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi x male reader

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oneforthemunny · 1 year

Text

some sunny day |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: eddie takes you to meet his mom. very very angst.

The first time Eddie mentioned his mother, it was just a casual comment. Innocent enough, made in passing about a small plate, decorative from the sixties that you saw at a thrift store.

“My mom used to have that,” Eddie muttered, hand tracing down the small dish. It was a neutral comment, but it was his expression, the way his eyes dropped and lips tightened. “She used to put her wedding band on it when she’d do the dishes.” His gaze was far off and distant, like he wasn’t really with you, he was back in a memory.

“It’s really pretty.” You offered with a small smile, looking at the floral details and gold, chipped trim. "She has good taste."

Eddie just nodded, putting it back on the shelf, shoving his hands in his pockets and waking away. You heart dropped. Eddie was never quiet like he was after that, distant and removed, giving small, forced grins and long stares. That was your first clue, that whatever happened between he and his mother, it wasn’t good.

Mother’s Day came around close to the end of school, but you still liked to do a little activity with the kids in your class. Thumbprint bouquets on ink pads and hand drawn stems, their slanted writing reading a little note. You displayed them on your bulletin board before they took them home for the weekend, proud and smiling at their hard work and how colorful it looked.

Eddie had stopped by, like he always did, smiling sweetly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips since it was after hours. His eyes lingered on your bulletin board, he always enjoyed seeing what creative thing you made of it. Some teachers simply added test scores, plain and boring, a little dehumanizing for the kids like him who never scored high- never had help with his spelling words. Not you, you made sure everyone’s was displayed, proud and how it was.

His face fell his time, smile dropping around the edges when he looked at it. “Isn’t it cute?” You gushed, arms around his waist, swaying back and forth. “They were so excited to use the ink pads. It was a mess, but worth it. They loved it.”

Eddie swallowed hard, blinking at the countless scribbling of words. “Yeah...it’s cute.” He forced out, choked words that seemed to strangle him.

You pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion when you looked at him. “You ok?” You asked.

Eddie looked down at you, that same distant look back in his eyes. You frowned softly. “What’s wrong?” You asked quietly.

Eddie shook his head. “Nothin’, baby.” He sighed softly, giving you a tiny smile, but still refused to look at the board again. “I think it’s sweet.” He hesitated, teeth gritting like he wanted to say more.

You lifted your brow. “Ed, what? C’mon,” you pushed gently, hand rubbing his back sweetly. “You won’t hurt my feelings, I promise. Did I misspell something again?” You grinned, looking back over at the bulletin board, remembering the time you’d spelled out ‘Valentime’ and proudly shown him. Eddie had laughed, warm and bubbly when he pointed it out to you. You’d blushed but thanked him, saving you from the disruption of your class the next day. Fourth graders thought nothing was funnier than their teacher making a mistake.

Eddie’s lips still pursed, sighing gently. “No, you spelled everything right. It’s…it’s just…” He shook his head. “I mean, this is really sweet, but what about the kids who don’t have moms?”

Your brows furrowed softly. “What?”

Eddie shrugged, closed off and shut down, wiggling out of your grasp gently. His jaw was tight and cheeks red, nearly embarrassed. “I’m just saying, like, are you sure everyone has a mom?” He said, refusing to meet your stare, reaching in to grab the full trash out and tie it off. “Some kids don’t have moms, and shit like this… Sorry, it’s not shit, I-I just mean, these things are nice, b-but not…” He exhaled slow, shaky.

Your heart shattered, breath catching in your throat. You felt dizzy, chest heavy. Eddie shrugged, hoping you didn’t see him swipe at his running nose, hidden under a waterfall of curls. “‘M just sayin’, sometimes this can just be… hurtful. Mother’s Day isn’t always fun for everyone.”

You didn’t push or dig. You knew enough to know that whatever it was- whatever Eddie had gone through with his mother was painful. He was still hurting.

You met Wayne on your six month dating mark. Eddie had been so nervous, palms clammy and leg bouncing in pure nerves. He’d worried himself nearly sick when you went over to the trailer. Worried you snarl or judge him or worse.

You grinned when you met the older man, Eddie’s uncle who raised him. Wayne hugged you tight when you introduced yourself, holding the screen door open to let you in. He hit Eddie on the side of his head when he passed by.

“Don’t you know you open doors for ladies, boy?” Wayne gruffed when Eddie passed by. “Your Mama would be rollin’ in her grave right now if she saw that girl open her own door.”

Your heart skipped, dropping at the comment. You weren’t sure you were supposed to hear it, so you pretended you didn’t-for Eddie’s sake. Scanning the pictures on the walls instead, most of Eddie, the same curly haired boy throughout the year. Wayne had his high school diploma displayed proudly, all three senior year photos next to them. You cooed at them, finger tracing over the school photos, a snaggletoothed, curly headed boy with bright, brown eyes in a slightly worn t-shirt. It made your heart ache, turning and squeezing with that uncomfortable crushing pressure.

Eddie showed you his old room, watching you smirk when you held up a dirty magazine, wedged under the old mattress. You lifted a brow playfully while Eddie blushed hard, a deep red that had you giggling.

“Those are from high school, I swear.” Eddie stammered, holding his hands up.

You lifted a brow, eyes skimming the cover. “Hottest Centerfolds of 1989?” You challenged.

Eddie’s blush deepened, running a hand down his face. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

Wayne had brought you to the common area of the park, the July air hot with a slight breeze. He’d fired up the grill anyways, making Eddie flip the hotdogs while the two of you chatted on the wooden picnic table behind him.

He wiped his brow, bangs matted and sweaty against his forehead. You stood, black hair tie on your wrist, pulling it off and handing it to Eddie. "Here, honey," You cooed sweetly, passing him the band. Eddie blushed, thanking you quietly when he pulled his hair back in a low bun, sweat trickling down his neck.

"Good call," Wayne grinned, winking playfully at you. "No one wants all that hair in their hot dogs anyways."

You giggled, looking over at Eddie with a sweet, playful smile. Eddie scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "At least I still have hair, old man." He jested.

Wayne barked out a laugh. "You better be glad you got your Mama's hair, otherwise you'd be bald like me."

Your heart thumped hard in your chest, palms sweating and not just because of the heat. You saw how Eddie's shoulder's tensed at the mention. Wayne chattered on while Eddie grilled, asking you about your own home life- where you were from, what your folks did, all nice and polite chatter.

You'd passed a photo hanging on the wall before you'd left. A woman with familiar unruly curls, clipped back but blowing in the wind. She sat on a hill, daffodils and tulip in flower beds around her, a small blanket on the ground. She held a baby with the same tuft of curls, chubby cheeks with dimples, and round, brown doe eyes. You knew it was Eddie immediately, smiling at the photo. He was adorable, so similar in some of his features. Your eyes lingered on the photo a bit too long, Wayne catching you.

He stood by you, exhaling slowly. "He looks like her, don't he?" Wayne smiled, sad. "I always told Viola that boy was her twin. Told Ed that too, but..." Wayne didn't finish his sentence, letting it linger in the air between the two of you.

You bit your lip, stopping yourself from asking what you wanted to, the question that rattled around your brain, shaking you from the inside out: what happened to her? No, it wasn't for you to ask. You wouldn't overstep like that. You'd respect Eddie and his decision to tell you when he was ready.

That day didn't come until much later. A cold, rainy day in March, when the winds were whipping and unforgiving, the sky cloudy and gloomy, the perfect bad day. You'd noticed Eddie didn't stop by your classroom that morning, no apple or sweet note. You assumed he'd slept in, the drizzle of the rain always made him so sleepy, snoring heavy and hard. By lunch time, Eddie still wasn't there, didn't join you and Steve in the break room, and you noticed the janitor's closet was still locked.

You climbed the steps to his apartment, a small one bedroom one bath next to the park, knocking on the chipped paint of the green door softly. No one answered. You furrowed your brows, craning your neck towards the parking lot. You could see the van in it's usual spot, the small orange tinted glow from his lamp inside.

You fished your key out of your bag, turning it in the lock softly before letting yourself in. Your stomach turned, a deep and sinking feeling settled in the pit of your tummy. "Ed?" You called softly, shutting the door behind you. "Eddie, it's me. Are you sick, baby?"

No response.

Your shoulders tensed, swallowing the growing lump in your throat, eyes scanning the room. "I tried to call, but..." A muffled yelp, nearly in pain, low and groaning from down the hall startled you.

You padded down the hall, hearing another small clamber from behind the closed door. You knocked gently again. "Eddie, are you alright?"

"Go away." Eddie barked, strained and shaky voice seeping through the door.

You flinched in shock softly, his voice so hard and cold, but mostly hurt. It worried you. "Eddie, please can I come in?" You asked softly, pressing your ear to the door. "If you're sick, I can go get you some medicine, baby. Or I can take you to the doctor if you-"

"No, just-just go!" Eddie yelled, a choked sob following, strangled and bitter.

Your eyes widened, hand turning the knob reactively before you could even comprehend what you were doing. Your breath hitched, heart stopping when you looked in the room. Eddie was lying on the bed, crumpled into the mess of bed sheets. His pillow was a deep blue, tear stained and wet. He clutched a photo in his hands, protective and angry, white knuckled and trembling. His eyes were red as was his nose, blood shot and raw from the tears running down his cheeks.

"I said get out!" Eddie sobbed, turning away from you entirely when you came in. His shoulders shook heavy, rattling with the aftershocks of sobs. "Get out! Go!"

"Eddie," You breathed cautiously, voice even and calm. You held your hand out, approaching him slowly, like a frightened animal, despite the rapid fluttering in your chest.

"No, leave!" Eddie cried, breath hitching and shuddering in his chest. He heaved deep and fast, furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I don't-don't want you to see me-e."

"Eddie, are you ok?" You asked calmly, hand hesitating to touch him. "Do you need me to call someone or-or get you-"

"No," Eddie sobbed, face crumbling. "You can't get me who I want, who I need." He sucked in a breath, pitiful and trembling at the admission. His voice was hoarse with tears.

"Yes, I can, baby. I can. Just tell me who you want, and I'll call them, ok? I'll-"

"You can't call her." Eddie's brown eyes, red rimmed. His shoulder's dropped, lip quivering, snot streaming down his nose. "You can't call her, because she's fuckin' dead. She's dead."

Your heart shattered, hands reaching out to stroke his shoulders, unsure and desperate to comfort him. Your eyes flickered down to the photo, the familiar curly hair- Viola.

Your breath caught, eyes meeting Eddie's, melting sympathetically. "Oh, Eddie," You whispered, stroking his cheek gently. You wished you could say more, do more, knowing nothing could soothe this aching he felt, but wishing you had the right words to help. Instead, your tongue felt large and swollen, choking your words and leaving your breathless and speechless.

Eddie's face crumbled, eyes squeezing and lips pressing together to try and keep the sob from escaping. You pulled him close, hugging him tight to you while he cried. Your hand raking through his hair, soothing and soft coos while he sobbed, heart-wrenching and pitiful.

Your blouse was damp, pressed against your skin when Eddie's breath finally steadied, that same distant glaze over his red-rimmed eyes. You kept him pressed close to you, tight to your chest, hand stroking his curls, peppering kisses to the crown of his head. You hated that you didn't know what to say, how to comfort him to make it better. There was nothing to make this better. What did you say to a grieving son who only wanted his mother?

Eddie told you then about her.

About how she always cared for him, about how she taught him to play guitar, how she taught him to hide when his dad came home angry and drunk. His eyes squeezed shut when he mentioned him, fists balling tight in his hands. You could feel his heart racing, picking back up and breathing ragged.

He told you about how she died, seventeen years ago that day. You tried to swallow back the burning ache in your chest, breathing deep to keep your own tears in. It wasn't about you, you couldn't cry, but how could you not? With the things Eddie was telling you. Horrifying, traumatizing things that he went through as a child; that he still faced today.

You stayed with him through the night, not because he asked but because you knew he needed it. He had never been so thankful for you. How gentle you were with him, not judging and reassuring when he got embarrassed by his emotions. He fell asleep that night practically on top of you, head buried in your torso, long limbs crowded all around you. You didn't mind.

The next morning, Eddie woke up frantic, mumbled apologies and racing thoughts that you quieted and soothed. You could tell her was embarrassed. He never needed to be with you.

Eddie rocked on his heels, fidgeting for a moment like he did when he was anxious. "I-I think I'd like to go see her today." Eddie mumbled, refusing to look up at you.

You nodded slowly. "I think that's a great idea, Ed." You smiled softly towards him, resting your own hand on top of his.

Eddie grabbed your hand tightly, fingers intertwining through yours. "Do you think... Do you think you could maybe come with me?" He asked, eyes rounding hopefully when he looked up at you. You melted, heart swelling so tight you thought you might burst. You wanted to tell him you'd walk through the firing line for him if he asked.

"I-It's ok if you can't. Fuck, that's a lot to ask, 'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have asked that, that's-shit, I can go by myself-" Eddie rumbled, eyes pinching closed, pulling his hand out of your grasp quickly.

"Eddie," You grabbed his hand softly again, squeezing it lightly. "I'll go with you. If you want me to go, I'll go with you. If you want me to drive you and sit in the car, I can do that to. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do. Don't apologize for asking."

Eddie hesitated, eyes frantically scanning your features. He'd grown used to putting other people first, making sure they were happy and content before he was. That they were genuine.

"Are you sure?" He asked weakly, lips pulling tight in a hopeful grimace. You wanted to squeeze him tight to you, hold him until he knew it would be alright; until it was all better.

Instead, you smiled, pressing a light kiss to his dimpled cheek. You pushed a curly tendril behind his ear. "I promise. I would love to meet your mother." You smiled, wide and warm, it made his heart lurch in his chest. His hand squeezed yours, eyes watering all over again.

You stopped by the florist before you went to the cemetery. Eddie hadn't asked you to, but you wanted to. "I can't show up empty handed to meet your mom." You smiled softly towards him.

Eddie took a long, deep, cleansing breath at that, following you in to the shop. You looked around, the aroma of the shop was heavenly, floral and powdery. Eddie relaxed softly.

"What kind of flowers did she like?" You asked gently, looking at the different ones in vases of water, behind cooling glasses to keep them fresh.

"Not roses," Eddie muttered, shaking his head at the various shades of roses they had in water. "Hated them."

You smiled softly. "Ok, no roses." You nodded, moving down the case.

"She liked those," Eddie pointed to the big, pink flowers that sat in a vase; peonies. "She used to grow them. Would cut them and put them on the dinner table to cover the scratch when people came over."

You squeezed his hand lightly, requesting two bouquets from the florist. You paid them before Eddie could, ignoring his protests when you took them to the car, laying them delicately in the back seat so they wouldn't get smushed. Eddie didn't tell you, but it meant the world. Seeing how careful you were, how caring you were to him. Watching your hands shake, a little jittery- nervous to meet his mother. Like she was still physically there, and it wasn't just a tomb.

"Do you want me to stay in the car?" You asked, parked on the curb in the empty cemetery.

Eddie shook his head softly, eyes trained on the rows ahead of him. "I-I think I'd like you to come with me." He said, looking over at you carefully. "I want you to meet her."

You smiled, bright back at him. His heart fluttered.

He lead you through the rows of graves, stopping to point out his grandparents, great-grandparents, before he found hers. The headstone was small, a little worn with weather. Viola Luella Jones-Munson - Beloved Daughter, Sister, Wife, and Mother.

Eddie's legs shook when he kneeled down, gripping the bouquet so tight he was sure the stems would break. "Hi, Mom," He whispered, voice cracking in his throat. "I-I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while..."

You pressed your lips together, fighting back a cry of your own. Watching Eddie push the leaves off the headstone, fingers lingering to trace over the etched letters of her name quietly.

"I brought someone to meet you." Eddie whispered, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Hi, Mrs. Munson," You smiled softly. "It's nice to finally meet you." You knelt down next to Eddie, on the soft grass.

"W-We've been dating for a while, Mom. I wanted her to meet you." Eddie breathed, his hand reaching out for yours, squeezing it tightly.

You ran your thumb over his hand, soothing. "Your son is great." You smiled, affectionately looking over at Eddie. "The best. You did an amazing job with him. You should be very proud." Eddie felt his chest swell, throat burning with the threat of tears again.

"He's kind, and funny, and creative, and so, so good to me. A gentleman." You continued, leaning your head softly against his shoulder.

The breeze blew through the trees, wind chimes on the graves tingling to life, while the two of you kneeled in silence.

"Do you think I could have a moment?" Eddie asked after a while, head leaning on top of yours, hand still intertwined. "Just a little bit alone?"

You looked up at him, pressing your lips to his softly, just barely brushing his. He relaxed into your touch, letting you kiss him sweet and gentle. "Take as much time as you need, Eddie. I'll go wait by the car."

You placed the bouquet in front of the headstone, swiping the top off carefully of any fallen blooms from the trees. "It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Munson." You whispered, before standing up. You squeezed Eddie's shoulder gently, padding back through the grass towards the car.

Eddie was still for a while. Listening, watching, distant and wrapped up in his own memories. He sighed softly, sitting down on the ground fully.

"She's great, isn't she?" Eddie whispered, smiling softly at the headstone. "I told you when I met the right one I'd bring them to meet you, and-and..." Eddie looked over his shoulder, back towards your car. "She's the one."

Eddie took a deep breath. "She met Wayne a while ago, back in July. He loves her. Told me I better take care of her." Eddie snorted softly. "I do, by the way. Well, I try to as much as I can... She takes care of me, too. Real good, Mom."

Eddie could feel the tears coming, pricking and threatening to spill out the corners of his eyes. "I-I wish you could meet her, Mom." Eddie's lip wobbled, voice cracking at the admission. "God, you'd love her. You two would get along so well, and-and-" Eddie sobbed, broken and spilling out of his chest.

"I miss you." Eddie whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.

He felt like the same eleven year old boy he was years before, kneeling in the freshly laid dirt by her grave, begging and pleading for anyone to bring her back. Screaming and furious that she was taken instead of his dad, instead of him.

"I wish you were here, Mom." Eddie sniffed hard, choking on his own tears. "I really miss you."

Eddie stayed there for a while. His brain screamed at him to get up, but he couldn't. He just wanted a little more time. He knew you wouldn't mind.

He placed a kiss to the headstone, resting his forehead against it until he calmed, chest still heavy and aching, but breathing steady. Eddie placed the peonies next to yours, pretty and bright against the headstone. He knew she'd love them.

When he said goodbye to her, a small, broken whisper into the headstone, he liked to think wherever she was that she heard him. That she sent down the small breeze that wrapped around him, through his hair and through the trees as a sign that she was still with him.

Eddie hugged you for a long time before you got back in the car, tight and desperate, like you might disappear if he didn't. You ran your hand soothingly down his back, letting him bury his nose in your hair, your scent grounding him and keeping his threatening tears at bay.

The ride home was silent, comfortable. Eddie looked out the window, exhausted and drained after the day. His hand held yours over the center console, your thumb still rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. He didn't tell you that his mom used to do that. He didn't tell you that was the reason the act was so soothing to him, not then anyways. He didn't tell you that you reminded him of her in the best ways. He didn't tell you that he'd never brought anyone, anyone to see her grave. He didn't tell you how much it meant to him that you spoke to her, that you were kind and sweet and genuine to her. He figured you knew.

What he did tell you was how much he loved you. How much he loved you and loved you and loved you and loved you.

And how much his mom would've loved you too. How much she did love you, wherever she was.

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salmonskinrolltf · 14 days

Note

this is soooo embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m even typing it out. But dude, I’ve been a gaymer for as long as I remember. I’m 30 pounds too heavy. I’m 27 and living. With too many roommates in the suburbs. And well. I’ve been watching Glee lately. And I just got to the season around college and I was hoping I could rent some tapes. See, I’ve got this major crush on Darren’s character Blaine and itd be awesome to always be singing and dancing and having fun. I was never a theatre kid myself. Any chance you can help?

Almost like a miracle, right when you considered ordering a tape from Be Kind Rewind, one of your roommates got a VCR. You suppose. You’re not sure which one of them actually got it, but it’s right there, plugged into the TV in your living room, so someone must have. The only thing is, you’ve had to wait until everyone was out to use it. You double check that the door is locked and everybody is out for the evening. You’re embarrassed to be seen watching the show, but you’re embarrassed for another reason tonight, too. Because renting this tape feels like a special occasion, you’ve decided to cosplay as Blaine a little bit. Your hair is neatly slicked back and you’ve donned a cardigan and bow tie to match his put-together preppy look.

When you’re certain the coast is clear, you open the (thankfully discretely marked) package and a die rolls out into your hand. Oh yeah. The die thing. Weird. You toss it onto the coffee table and it lands on 4.

When the VCR whirs to life, you hear those a cappella credit trills that indicate whatever episode that was playing has already ended, so you jab the rewind button, humming the music quietly to yourself. You scratch your stomach and realize the fabric of your cardigan is much looser than it should be. You lift it up and see that your stomach has shrunk, flattening against your torso, which seems firmer and more lithe in general.

Stunned, you gaze at yourself in the nearest mirror, noticing how the new outfit looks even more Blaine-like after your bizarre transformation. In fact, everything is looking more Blaine-like. Your eyebrows thicken and darken, your slicked-back hair darkening along with them. As your lips plump up and your skin tans slightly, you realize you look like a total Blaine doppelganger. Your dick hardens in the thrift store pants you bought to match the overall preppy look. You look just like your crush! You’re not even questioning it, you just figure you must be dreaming or something. But even if you’re only dreaming, why let the opportunity pass you by to admire yourself more… privately?

In a daze, you wander into the bathroom. Instead of the pigsty it normally is, living with so many roommates, it looks neat and tidy. Tubs of hair gel neatly line the sides of the sink, and the mirror is decorated with playbills, a photo of Blaine and Kurt, and a bumper sticker for a local Lima, Ohio radio station. Not only do you look exactly like Blaine, you’re now in what seems to be his bathroom! You admire yourself in the mirror.

A thrill of excitement thrums through you and you unzip your pants, rubbing yourself at the thought of looking just like your crush.

As you pleasure yourself, you think about the various Glee characters you have the biggest crushes on. Could you use this VHS service to become them all? The thought makes you even more aroused. However, when Blaine returns to your mind, your dick deflates. Suddenly it feels wrong to be thinking about him. You try to cycle back through the other characters in your mind, but suddenly only the female ones come to mind. Brittany, Quinn, even Rachel. Your dick springs back to full hardness and you panic at the sudden shift in your sex drive. You shove your erection back into your pants but not before cum explodes into the sink. You hurriedly wipe it up with some toilet paper.

What the hell is going on? As you scrub, you don’t notice that the gel is slowly easing out of your hair, which curls and falls over your face in a more lackadaisical, unkempt fashion. Stubble sprouts from your cheeks, chin, and upper lip, slowly growing into a short beard. Your clothes morph from your preppy ensemble into more of a rocker vibe, your shredded T-shirt dipping into a V-neck that exposes the dark, matted chest hair that has been busy unfurling across your newly taut torso.

Right when you flush the balled-up wad of TP, a voice interrupts your panic.

“What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?”

You turn to the doorway and see Blaine Anderson standing there. Wait, that can’t be. Weren’t you just him? You turn to look at yourself in the mirror and see a much more rugged, sloppy individual than the person you were just a moment before. You look like Blaine, but… different. Older, somehow. And more unkempt, definitely.

This intruder, on the other hand, looks exactly like Blaine. He also looks annoyed. He taps his toe and runs a hand across his impeccably coiffed hair. “This is why I asked Mom for my own bathroom, so I wouldn’t have to wait for you all the time. How is it that I use 12 hair products a day and you still take longer than I do for everything?”

You’re too shocked to say anything. You’re unsure whether you’re more shocked by the words he’s saying or the fact that Blaine is standing just feet away and you feel nothing about it whatsoever. As your brain sputters, your body kicks into autopilot and you shrug.

“The gays haven’t cornered the market on looking good just yet, little bro,” you chuckle, punching his arm as you head back out into the hallway, which now looks like one that belongs in a pristine suburban home.

As you head back into your room, you notice that it looks entirely different. No game consoles in sight, just laundry strewn everywhere and a mini basketball hoop on the back of the doorway. You absent-mindedly toss a NERF basketball toward the hoop and it hits the rim, flying back in your direction and smacking you in the face, knocking you back onto the unkempt mattress that’s on the floor without a bed frame.

You groggily open your eyes and look around. Where the hell are you? Who the hell are you? You rack your brains. Oh yeah. David Anderson. Eldest son of one of the lamest families on the planet, smack dab in the middle of Buttfuck, Ohio. You scratch your hairy chest underneath your T-shirt and check the time.

You remember you have plans to grab some brews with the boys this evening before seeing the latest movie starring that hot actress you like, so you’d better head out quick so you can hit up the gym beforehand. You throw on your gym clothes, grab your water bottle, and rush out the door.

As you pass by your little bro’s room, you see him singing along to a Mariah Carey tune and practicing his dance moves. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. Singing and dancing aren’t for you, but you appreciate how into it he is. You figure that, for him, singing and dancing brings him the same joy that going to the gym and playing ball with your bros does for you. You leap up to smack the top of the door frame as you head outside, barely giving Blaine another thought as you walk down the street, anticipating the awesome evening ahead of you.

#roll the die #Be Kind Rewind #Gay to Straight #Chest Hair #Facial Hair #Jock

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 months

Note

your writing is incredible! do you mind writing something about dilf dave mustaine corrupting young female reader

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy my writing!

A/n: I got, like, halfway through writing this and then had a better idea on how I could've answered this request but I didn't want to rewrite it because I still liked the story so I hope you still like it just as much :3

Warnings: Smut, unprotected pnv, oral(male receiving), fingering(reader receiving), if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

The sunset strip. Many things come to mind at the sound of that title. Band startups, drinking and drugging, all things surrounding rock, punk, metal and all sorts of other kinds of music. This was the scene, and you were finally here.

After high school you skipped out on the gap year and went straight to getting higher degrees. After those years of extra gruelling homework you took your break, taking a well deserved time off before heading into the workforce.

This being your year of true freedom, a kind you probably won’t get close to again, you went to the one place you’ve always wanted to be. The sunset strip.

Now, you weren’t much of a party person. When all your friends were out at someone’s house you were at home studying, reading, a few jobs on and off. The whole crowded place was not something you wanted. But the sunset strip was where you wanted to be all that time. Even though it was way out of your comfort zone.

You looked through some of the clothes in a store you found called ‘Retail Slut’. The clothes were of all kinds and you were quite happy to be digging in all of it, unique smells and all.

In the back there was a small stand of records which you thought were pretty cool. While you were going through them a tall man with ginger hair came up to the table and seemed to be pretending to look around at the albums. You caught him glancing at you a few times and he eventually spoke up.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, “new to town?” He had this friendly presence to him. His smile was warm and he had the cutest glasses on. He wore this cute brown coat and light blue jeans. Fall incarnate. A fallen leaf on a frosty day.

“Just visiting, I grew up watching everything happen here and I’d never been.” You explained. The man nodded in understanding. You picked up an album with a hammer in a red and black frame titled ‘Kill ‘em All’. The ginger haired fellow took it from you and put it under another stack of albums further down the table.

“I’ve listened to some of their shit, you wouldn’t like it.” He stated, glaring down at the assortment of other records.

“How would you know what I’d like?” You asked, crossing your arms around your chest. The man looked up at you. He eyed you from head to toe, biting his lip as he did so.

“There’s a band playing just around the corner at a bar I like.” He walked around the table to stand in front of you. “Care to join me?” He asked, holding a hand out for you to take. You hesitated for a moment. You’ve never done anything like this before, running off with a stranger to some bar. Right into a party? No one ever would’ve taken you for the type, least of all yourself.

But this was the strip, and you came here to be free. So you took his hand and he led you out of the thrift store.

You walked down the streets hand in hand. You kept scanning around at everything happening, all the laughing, smiling faces. Rock posters everywhere, record stores, guitar shops. Everything you’ve dreamed of.

“I’m Dave, by the way.” The man said. You’d been trying to work up the courage to ask but the words kept fizzling out before they came out of your mouth. “In case you were wondering what name to call out tonight.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to think of a scenario where you’d need to call for him when it clicked as to what he was referring to. Your cheeks heated up and your gaze fell to the ground as you entered a dark club.

Dave threw an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close in the crowded area. Being so close to him you could smell his cologne. The stench of the club nearly covered it but you managed to focus on it. It helped keep you calm in this unfamiliar scene.

The ginger walked you through the club and sat down at the bar. He ordered you both ginger ale. “Unless, the lady wants something else?” He offered. You shook your head and the bartender walked off to make your drinks. “Not a drinker?” He asked, half leaning on the counter.

“I’m not even a partier.” You replied, almost exasperated. The bartender returned a few moments later with your drinks. You thanked them and reached for your purse. Dave gently pushed your hand away and handed the worker some cash.

“Pretty girls don’t buy drinks, doll.” He told you, taking a sip of his drink.

The two of you got to talking, having a few more non-alcoholic drinks and just chatting your time away. This was much more pleasant than the stories of parties you’ve heard all your life. This was nothing compared to the scene you’d come here expecting, but it was a much appreciated one.

Dave’s hand found its way to your knee, slowly moving higher and higher. You decided on a leather skirt and fishnets to go along with your red tube-top and thrifted leather jacket. His fingers were dipping under your skirt, just enough to have your stomach fluttering.

Finally, after hours of teasing you with his touch that was barely considered innocent, Dave leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Why don’t you come with me for a minute?” He held his hand out for you to take, and you did.

The ginger led you through the crowd and to the bathrooms. He tried to pull you into the mens room but you stopped. “I-I can’t go in there.” You said, glancing around to see if anyone was looking at you. They weren’t, all of them too preoccupied with the show on before them, all wasted and having their own fun.

“Come on.” Dave groaned with a smile. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He urged, gently pulling you into the bathroom.

He got you on the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your hips. Your lips crashing against one anothers, tongues dancing together and exploring each other's mouths. Dave was pushing your skirt up, bunching it around your hips. You could feel him hardening as he would grind against you, short and harsh rotations of his hips.

Dave’s hands began to wander. He’d run the tips of his fingers over the inside of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine and knotting your gut. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He mumbled against your lips when his thumb finally pushed against your panties. He pushed the thin piece of fabric to the side and slid a finger through your folds. That alone had your back arching in anticipation. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking wet.” He mused, starting to kiss down your neck. Nipping and sucking the tender flesh and leaving love bites. You screwed your eyes shut and your mouth fell open in soft sounds as Dave slid a finger into you.

He curled his finger against your gummy walls, pressing against that special spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped his shoulders. “Such a sweet thing, huh? Never felt this before, have you?” He hummed as he pumped his long, thick fingers in and out of you. He started slow, letting you get used to this new sensation before he picked up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against wet skin rang through the small, tiled room along with your whimpers.

“Oh, fuck, please! Please, fuck, I c- I can’t.” You whined, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Dave then pulled his finger out of you, taking away any pleasure you had just been feeling. You stared at him with wide sad eyes and a pout. “Why would you do that..?” You asked, your voice shaky and weak. Dave looked at you with an apologetic, pitying look.

“Oh... Is my baby needy?” He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently caressing it. “All sad and pouty because she doesn’t get to cum yet?” He ran his fingers through your hair and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry, daddy’ll take care of you.” He pulled you off the counter, your knees buckled and you fell to your knees on the cold tile in front of him. You stared up at him with that same wide-eyed stare. “You just have to do something for me first, sweetheart.” Dave said as he unbuckled his belt.

His pants fell to the ground, leaving him in his boxers which had a prominent bulge from his cock. “Go on, doll, make daddy happy.” You were hesitant at first, gaze flickering between him and his eyes. You brought your hands up and dipped your fingers under the waistband of his boxer, gently tugging them down until they fell to his ankles with his pants.

Dave’s hard member hit you in the face after being brought out from its confines, traces of pre already sticking to your cheek. “I-I’ve never...” You trailed off, not sure whether it was because you were distracted by his dick or that you just didn’t want to finish the sentence.

Dave’s hand went to your face again, holding you by the chin to tilt your head up so you’d look him in the eye, though your gaze flickered to his lips a few times as well. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” He mused, wiping the liquid from your cheek. You gave a weak nod and opened your mouth for him.

The ginger slowly guided his cock over your tongue, letting the weight lay on the muscle for a moment before he went further. His hand was still on your head, holding you in place for him. He was only about halfway in when he stopped, letting you get used to just that. “Watch your teeth now, doll, but give it a suck, would you?” He said in that same soft voice he’d been using with you all afternoon and now into the night.

You did as he told you to, your tongue traced the veins on the underside as you hollowed your cheeks for him. You pulled your head back a bit to pay more attention to his tip and he let you, for a moment. Before you knew it he was slamming his hips to meet your face, fucking deep into the back of your throat at a brutal pace. You gagged on him and the tears that had been pricking your eyes fell in streams down your red cheeks.

Your knees and throat hurt but Dave didn’t stay like this for long. He didn’t finish but he pulled himself out of your mouth and pulled you up off the floor. He pushed you up against the counter with your back facing him so you’d be looking into the mirror. The ginger stared down at your exposed ass, hands firmly planted on your hips as he spread you apart. His thumb pushed the fishnet and your panties aside so he could feel just how wet you were, all for him.

“Fucking gorgeous.” He hummed. “All pretty and mine.” He said, and with a quick tug he ripped your fishnets, then your thin underwear. He lined himself up with you and pushed in, bottoming out without giving you time to prepare yourself.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, drool slipping out of your puffy and bruised lips, tears rolling down your hot cheeks. You didn’t care, anything besides Dave’s cock stuffed deep inside you was beyond your comprehension right now. You loved the feeling of him, the way he hit every spot that had you seeing stars, the way he held you so close to his chest.

After letting you adjust to him for a moment or two he wasted no time in setting a fast rhythm, thrusting into you without a care in the world. He groped your chest and bit your neck, leaving red and purple spots in his wake as his hips slammed against yours. You weren’t processing any sounds you were making but based on the expression you saw staring back at you you could imagine they were pretty loud, all lustful moans as Dave slid in and out of you, his head pressing right up against your cervix.

The knot came back full force when Dave started circling your clit and quickly burst. You screamed out for him, creaming around him. Your juices dripped down his cock, your ass and thighs getting coated as well while the liquids made their way to the floor which was already covered in a layer of other fun times. However, Dave didn’t stop. His thrusts were relentless as he kept bucking his cock into you.

“Fuck-fuck, so pretty, so pretty just for me, so tight around daddy’s cock.” Dave praised, landing a harsh smack on your ass, then another and then a third, each one drawing a yelp from you. Dave took your hair in his hand, bunching it into a makeshift ponytail so he could pull your head back to force you to look into the mirror. “Look at that, look at my little slut, all fucked out on daddy’s dick.” Your eyes were fluttering, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out but you managed to keep your standing.

Dave began losing his rhythm and just sloppily fucking into you, doing anything to reach his own high. The coil in your gut returned, this time you got to see how that looked on the outside. Dave behind you with his long, ginger hair sticking to his face and your shoulders from sweat. You watched the way your ass shook every time he rammed into you, you saw the small bulge in your stomach. Dave saw it at the same time and smiled a wicked grin.

“Look at that, all ready to have my babies, are you?” He teased. You let out a loud, sultry whine and Dave’s eyes rolled back as your walls squeezed him. “Oh, fuck~ Do that a few more times and you just might, dollface.” You continued to watch the bulge appear and disappear only to reappear right after over and over, bringing you over the edge once more.

Your body shook and your knees buckled. You clenched around Dave bringing him to his own release. Thick, white liquid shot into you and the ginger bent you over the counter, pressing down onto you as he kept bucking up into you.

He kept going a few more seconds before pulling away. He pulled out of you and watched his cum seep out of your hole. You looked back at him, then to the floor where the liquid fell. Dave saw the pout on your face, the one you hadn’t even realised was there, and pulled you into a hug. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll get you good and pregnant next time.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. “I can bring you back home right now, would you like that, dollface?” You smiled back up at him and nodded, your eyes closing as you melted into his warm embrace.

#Megadeth #megadeth smut #megadeth x reader #megadeth fanfiction #dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction

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jarofstyles · 1 year

Text

Sugar Sugar 8

Here we are… the first taste of sugar sugar smut 🫶 I’m sorry to have kept you waiting but it was for the world building 😭

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings: talk of body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc, smut 😁

—-

It was that bad.

Sitting in her back office on the couch, their thighs touching, Y/N looked at him a bit slack jawed as she listened to him list off what he had.

“Harry… babe.” She whispered. “You have a bed… a dresser… a arm chair… a coffee table, maybe?” She shot him a look. “How does one maybe have a coffe table?”

“Cause it’s like… I think it’s supposed to be a entryway table.” The man scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. “I told you it wasn’t good! I didn’t have much.” He whined, looking down at the paper pad in her lap. It was cute, he noticed, with her shop’s logo on the top. “I need help. And who better than my pretty, creative, talented girl.” There was a bit of schmoozing going on, Y/N cutting him a look with a tiny smirk on her face as she scribbled down what he needed.

“So we need to get you night stands, a desk, a dining room table and chairs, a proper couch or love seat… a tv stand?” She looked at him but scribbled it out when he shook his head, clarifying his was mounted. At least that was done. “And bookshelves. Luckily with the look you're going for, it can be a bit mismatched. It’s easier to thrift.”

Harry and Y/N had sat on her couch with her laptop pulled up on Pinterest, beginning to make the board for his place. He was very 60s and 70s inspired, with the warm colors and round edges he seemed to like. Funky and cool but also grown. The color palette was her favorite part, considering she was on board with it too. There would be stuff they’d need to buy new, like paint and stuff like that, but it would be easy to get art and frames.

It was almost embarrassing to be this excited to decorate someone’s space- but it was Harry’s. Her lovers.

It still shocked her to think about. Her lover. He had his arm around her shoulders and his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of her hair, looking at her hand as she wrote things down. Clingy was a good word for him, physically, and Y/N had never imagined herself craving it just as much. But here she was. Eating up every single touch he gave her.

Delilah was manning the front of the store as Y/N took her break, sitting with Harry and getting a head star in it. “We can go thrifting this week when I’m off, and I know you’re letting Anika start her full time tomorrow yeah?” She placed the pen down, turning to look at him. What she hadn’t expected was his face to be so close, causing her to squeak a little as she jumped.

“Easy, darling.” He grinned at her reaction. There was no move made to go back. It was hard to keep his behavior good right now when she smelled so good and was so warm pressed against his side. Maybe it was partially how new the relationship was, but he was aching to get and keep his fingers on her. To be as close as physically possible. “I think we can do that. But you’re already stressin’ yourself out.”

The deep croon made her want to shiver. His voice was so close, and she could feel his body heat as he angled further towards her. His fingers tucked some of the stray hair from her face right behind her ear, leaning in slowly to kiss the underside of it. “You’re doing me a favor, Sugar. And m’so grateful for it, but you’ve got t’relax. Didn’t come to see you to get you all worked up. At least…” he chuckled against her skin, making the shiver she suppressed come to life. “Not like that.”

Her throat dried.

Holy fuck.

Harry was hot. He was attentive and smooth and sexy and his large hand held her thigh while his opposite fingers had moved now to trail down her neck. It wasn’t as if she was a blushing virgin with no idea how to handle a man- but god, this man was one that had her feeling frazzled.

“You’re a menace.” She huffed, squirming slightly in her seat as she felt the heat in her cheeks. “I just… I want to make it nice for you. Especially considering I think we should spend some time there ourselves. I can’t date you if you’ve got the whole lawn chair and TV set up, H. I can’t.” The tease made his mouth drop, a gentle smack given to her leg as he scoffed. Realistically though, he found it hot too. Knowing she could keep up with the banter. Enjoyed it.

“Okay? I have an arm chair. It’s upholstered and everything. Not a lawn chair. I am not a Reddit post.” He scoffed again, rolling his head back on the couch. “Jesus. What do you think I am? Hm? So rude t’me. Breaking my heart here, Sugar. Maybe I should start callin’ you salt.”

“Absolutely not.” Y/N quipped, scrolling through Pinterest with a chuckle. “I’ve got a sweet tooth and I’m dating a baker. A bakery owner, actually, so how could I be your Salt?” She nudged his knee with hers. “Blasphemy, actually. Can’t believe you’d even joke. I’m sweet as peach pie. I just don’t take your shit.”

Harry smirked. Oh, she set herself up good. The back and forth, the close proximity and in relative privacy, it was making him feel bolder and comfortable and his attraction to her feeling like it was bubbling over the pot… it was getting to him, really.

Cool fingers gently nudged her chin away from the laptop screen, Y/N jumping again slightly at how close his face was when she turned her eyes. Their noses almost brushed, a shaky breath exhaled over his lips. All the smart ass remarks dried up as he quite literally stole her breath, a slightly predatory glint in his eye. “Trust me… I know you’re sweet. Want t’find all the places you taste like peaches. Maybe strawberries..: though, I’ve got my money on my girl tasting like honey.” The drawl went straight to her chest, zapping her right between her legs.

Green glanced at her lips, back up at her eyes. She was so sweet, even with her salty moments. But never, ever bitter. Even then, he’s pretty positive she would find a way to make bitterness taste like citrus. “Lots of places M’gonna taste. You just got to let me.” He rubbed his thumb over her chin, leaning in to peck her lips with a quiet hum.

It lit her up. The nervous breath she released was covered again with another kiss, Harry taking his time with this one. His biggest addiction was her lips, feeling them press against his own. It was insane to him to think that so quickly in their relationship that he would be needy like this, that he felt like all he wanted to do was be around her. Yet here he was. Pressing slow kisses to her lips, warming her up a little bit. The warmth of her cheek bit into his fingers, caressing the smooth skin as he pulled back for a moment, letting the soft snap sound of their lips pulling apart fill the air.

Y/N swallowed the tiny bubble in her throat, making no move to pull away. It was hard because she had been thinking about his kisses since their date. He kissed her with a confident ease, a natural ability it almost made her jealous. She had found herself overthinking it a bit at first, but Harry was a natural leader, able to show her exactly how to follow him. She had the ability to lead, she had in most of her past relationships, but Harry gave her a bit of a choice. Letting a moment pass, she decided- fuck it.

Fingers curled into his shirt, shifting in her seat so she was facing him fully, she brought herself back to him. Kissing him again, there had been a weight lifted. Like Harry had been waiting for her to give him a signal, their undeniable tension cutting in as he mirrored her. He didn’t hesitate anymore, covering her lips with his. The buzzing she felt rang across her body, chills going over her arms as she leaned further into her and his hand went to her waist. There was no self conscious feeling, nothing but longing for his hands in more places.

The man could kiss. He could kiss and kiss and kiss and she would let him until her lungs gave out, a soft whimper leaving her throat as she felt him go ton pull away for a moment. His sticky lips pulled into a slight smirk against her swollen ones, nudging her nose with his own. “Shh. S’alright. Need you to breathe, sweetheart.” He teased, pecking her bottom lip and pulling back again. “Want you closer. C’mere.”

There was a slight hesitation in her as he tried to help pull her into his lap. Old Demons on her shoulders trying to pull her back as she took a breath, trying to move again only to be stopped by Harry’s lips pulling away from hers. “Shit. M’sorry.” He swallowed. He had felt her stop, her hesitancy and was acutely aware that they were in her place of business and the relationship was still new. His addiction to her had been clouding his mind but he hadn’t meant to push. “Don’t have to do that, got a bit carried away.” His fingers fluttered over her flushed cheek, feeling the heat he was quite fond of already. “It’s your pace.”

“No- no.” She squeaked. “Just- I want to. I really, really do. I love being close to you.” She reassured him. This was definitely not too fast, in fact she could go a few miles over his current speed limit- but the mental hang up was something she was trying to get over. “Just… don’t want to hurt you. I’m kind of heavy.” As muscular as he seemed, he was also not her size.

Harry felt a twinge of pain in his chest. Christ. It made him sad that she even had to think about that. That it was even a thought in her mind. That someone in the past had probably made her feel like she wasn’t able to do that to them. It was relieving to know he wasn’t the issue, but this was almost worse.

“Baby…” he coaxed. “I know that you’ve probably had these types of thoughts for a while, but it won’t hurt. Trust me.” He met her hesitant gaze. He didn’t like the nerves. Part of him wanted to get mad, wanted to feel insulted that maybe she would think he would be hurt by this or woulnd’t want it. But he remembered that she had mentioned being slow with it, to be cautious with her unlearning the things people had tried to hammer into her head. “Come sit on my lap. Been dying for it for ages. Want you on top of me… trust me.” He grinned lazily up at her, a dirty tinge to his words. “Love these hips,, your thighs. I’ve been thinking some dirty things about them.” He said bluntly. Hopefully it wasn’t too much.

“You have?” She whispered, looking down at his chest and back up to his eyes. All she had to do was look into them again to know he was telling the truth, but he nodded anyways. It had her flushing under her skin. Harry had thought dirty things about her, just as she had for him. “O-OKay. But you’ve got to promise to tell me if m’hurting you.”

His look was pointed. It wouldn’t hurt- but he sighed. “Yes. I’lll tell you. But you won’t hurt me, Sugar. Just get up here.” He tugged again, knowing she probably needed him to push her a bit to climb on. Her eyes avoided his for a moment as she finally gave in, straddling his thighs. It elevated her a bit, and she was extra cautious to not put too much weight on his body as she leaned back down to kiss him.

Harry, though? He wasn’t having any of that. His hands collared her hips, groaning into her mouth as he pulled her down to sit on his thighs. Y/N merely squeaked, being pressed into his body as he fully leaned back into the couch and pulled her with him. He had been dying to get his hands on her, but was something that the man had been hesitant about. Her comfort was key, though now he saw she needed a bit of a push. To be shown that it didn’t hurt. If anything, it turned him on to feel the heat, the weight, feeling her push forwards.

Y/N was shockingly aroused by his direction. How he took it without asking because she had been hesitant. Her kisses got a bit deeper, grabbing a soft handful of the couch behind him to keep balance as she sunk into the feeling. Harry felt so right, the fluttering in her stomach sinking lower to the hot place between her thighs. It wasn’t often that an actual man got her aroused, though harry never seemed to have that issue with her. The giddiness in her veins urged her forward, wanting to feel him squeezing something else. The languid stroking and squeezing of her hips and waist was amazing, but… she had a feeling he wanted more than just that.

Harry was curious when he felt her hand grab at his wrist, pulling it down slightly. If she wanted to have his hands somewhere else, he welcomed it, but when he realized the direction, he groaned. Her hand positioned his right on her ass, placing it directly where he had been thinking of grabbing. With the go ahead, he smirked a little against her lips and did as he pleased.

His hands were big, they knew where to touch, and it made her moan a little against his mouth. Cupping the bottom of her ass, he pushed her closer and squeezed. Fulfilling the dreams he’s been having every time he looks at her with her pretty dresses that clung to it, the jeans that accentuate it, he was in heaven. Feeling her warm, soft body leaning into his own, given the blessing to touch as he needed. “Fuck’s sake.” He whispered, awe in his tone as he pulled back for a moment. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Her flush felt hotter as she nervously giggled, looking down from his eyes to his lips. It was almost juvenile, their make out session on the couch, but she could feel her heartbeat in between her thighs and she wanted to feel more of it. “Shhh. I know.” Pulling from the confidence she had worked so hard to bring up, she pressed her ass back into his hand and gave him a smile that went straight to his damn dick. Nibbling lightly on her lip, she ran her fingers through the locks ahain and watched as he licked his own lips at the vision in front of him.

“Thank fuck. You should know.” His other hand came down and took hold of the other side of her ass, shaking his head in awe yet again. He hadn’t been able to touch her ass before and honestly, it was one that filled his palms and then some, which made him feel giddy. “If only you knew the things I’ve been thinking. You’d run far, far away.” The wolffish grin on his face made her brow raise. The half hard length she could feel on her thigh said otherwise.

“Try me.” It was a dangerous thing to ask perhaps, but Y/N was a glutton for punishment. She wanted to know exactly what it was that made his eyes darken like that, feeling the pride in her chest knowing she was the cause.

“Hmm.” He pretended to think about it. Of course, he knew he was taking a risk and it could be too much for her, but he wanted to see. Maybe she would like it. “Well…” he ran his palms over her ass, feeling the warmth through the fabric. “I’m thinking about how pretty my marks are going to be on this.” Starting a little tame for all intents and purposes, he watched her face and saw her tilt her chin a bit in interest. Not too much. “Want to feel it get hot from taking a few spanks, maybe even a bite. There’s plenty to play with.” A squeeze given made her exhale sharply, but she pressed back into it to show just how much she liked it. Still, no scaring her off.

“I’ve been looking at it since we met. I’d apologize but I think you like that I have been.” He murmured, leaning his head back on the couch. “Been thinking about how i moves when you walk, how perfectly shaped it is. There’s a lot for me to do with it. How I really want to see you in something short, see you bend over in it and give me a peek.” The experimental words had her attempting to clench her thighs, but he could feel it. Harry was well aware that she was liking this, liking the slight roughness in his grab. “And when you bend over t’tease me, how I’ll just…” he kept his eyes on hers as he pulled his hand back, giving the fullest part of her ass a swat. Her eyes widened for a second before hooding, a visible swallow as she shakily gripped his hair a bit harder.

The spank had gone straight to her cunt. Making her even more wet than she already had been, it was a miracle he couldn’t feel it. At least she hoped he couldnt. There wasn’t a man before who handled her this way, not in the fearless way she had wanted. “Shit.” He breathed, breathing getting heavier as the tighter grip in his hair had extrabated the arousal. She liked it. And he liked her. “Y’like that?” His hoarse voice was quiet, but Y/N heard him loud and clear, licking her lip before nodding quickly. “The spank, the image? Which one, sweet girl?” He wasn’t satisfied with just a nod.

“Both.” Her voice was weak, feeling hotter in the cheeks as he examined her every expression. Somehow it wasn’t too scary now, being under his scrutiny. He wanted to know what she liked, where to go from there. “Both, a lot.”

“Good.” His face became a bit more relax, a bit more cocky, and she found it to be extremely hot. “S’good. Cause I’d love to do more of that. It’s hot. You’re so fuckin’ hot, Sugar. Even more than you know.” Rubbing circles around where he had spanked, he continued. “You’re good for me. Haven’t scared y’off, cause that’s the tip of the iceberg. There’s lots more I’ve been thinking of, but you’re already makin’ me hard and aching. Just sitting here and kissing on you like a damn teenager, gonna make a mess of my pants. You’re amazing.”

The confirmation it wasn’t just her made her feel even better. He was hard against her thigh, she was getting sticky in her panties and honestly she was wondering how worth the risk it would be to just beg for him to fuck her. She wanted to melt and beg for him to turn them over and slip into her. That was too soon, but it didn’t have to be too soon to do anything, right?

In relative terms, maybe. They’d hung out quite often but gone on two dates. They were officially boyfriend and girlfriend but when was the definitive time when it started being okay? Y/N always thought it was silly, these unspoken rules of society. How time dictated what was appropriate even if both parties wanted it… maybe it was okay, if he wanted it, to touch.

“H…” she whispered, smoothing her hands over his shirt and placing them around his face, cupping the sharp jaw in her palms while the fingers curled around her cheeks. “I don’t think you could scare me off when I’ve been having dirty thoughts about you since we met.” Shuffling slightly in his lap, she sat herself fully on top of him. It took a bit of mental prep but his eyes gave her all the answers she needed. He was genuinely attracted to her, really going wild just by having her in the palm of his hands. The confidence boost was major.

“What if I want you to make a mess of them?” The words hung in the air for a moment as she watched him absorb them. “What if…” she released one hand from his face to hold the couch behind him. “I want you to feel good? Because I’ve been making a mess of myself since we’ve been kissing. Probably before that.” Her lips brushed his with every word she whispered. “You look so good today. It’s almost offensive. To come into my shop and be so.. beautiful.” She shook her head as she rubbed their noses together just a little in affection. “Made me want to get on my knees right then.”

The whispery tone of her words had him shuddering. Harry had been trying to be good with how far he took things. He really had only meant to kiss her, to make out like they had done since they’d first kissed, but she had the effect on him that made him feel like he was going out of his mind. “You did?” He hoarsely replied, sliding his hand up her back. “You’re just as bad as me, hm? What a perfect match we are.” The tease wasn’t much of a tease, though. It was the truth.

“Suppose I am.” She mumbled, lifting herself off of him a bit as she gave him a look. His face fell to confusion as he mourned the warmth of her body from his own, but froze as he watched as she sunk to her knees right between his parted thighs.

Oh.

“Baby- y’don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’m fine.” The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel obligated, but she cut him off with fingers tugging at his belt. There was this look on her face, this mix of arousal, nerves and cockiness. Need. He wanted her to be sure, but Y/N simply shook her head as the belt was slid through the loops, clanging to the floor. Warm palms met his thighs as she teased, throwing her hair over her shoulders as she gave him a soft pout. Barely there, but he could see it.

“I want to. I’ve wanted to since you’ve stepped in here, and you said such dirty things about what you wanted to do.. I figured I may as well show you what I want to do with mine.” Their locked gazes fed reassurance to him, and she felt comfortable. He did too. There was no pressure. He had made her feel confident today, made her feel even more at ease with him, and she wanted to express her gratitude.

“I could feel you.” She rested her cheek upon his thigh, trailing a finger over the bulge in his jeans. “Against my thigh. I could feel it pulsing a bit. You really liked having your hands on me. Made me feel… so sexy. Adored. Haven’t felt that so strongly, let alone so soon.” You could hear a pin drop as he stayed quiet, his heavier breathing the only interruption to her words. He was full of anticipation, seeing her lay her head so close to his covered cock driving him mad. She was a tease, but in the best damn way.

“I love your body.” He replied. “It’s… you’re incredible. Of course m’hard. Been hard for ages. Since I’ve met you, never gotten off as much as now.” His knuckle brushed her cheek as she continued laying on his thigh, adding another finger in her stroking of him over the material of his pants. “You’re making me crazy, baby. Just looking at you like that. Can’t wait to get my hands back on you.”

“Mm… not today.” She mumbled. Before he could retort, she popped the button of his pants. “You’re going to wait to touch me, and just know what when I’m all alone, I’m thinking about this.” Fingers slowly undid the zipper. “Right now, it’s about you. I want to get you off. Want to feel you in my mouth, give you a taste of what I can be like for you. And then maybe… when you’ve got proper furniture in your place… I’ll let you touch me on it.”

The wicked smile grew as her cheek left his thigh, tapping it to lift up as she began to tug down the pants. “How can someone be so utterly sweet, but so cruel?” He croaked. “I’m not selfish. I want to return the favor. But I can wait… if that’s what you want.”

“It is. You’re good for me, Harry.” She cooed back, pleased with how he gave her the reply she had been hoping for. The pants down left him with a pair of briefs, a slight stain from his own arousal making her smug as she tugged at the waistband. Her hand slipped inside, preening at the gasp turned groan that left his mouth as she fished him from the fabric and exposed him to her eyes for the first time.

He was beautiful. As beautiful as cocks could be, anyways. Neatly trimmed hair met a smooth shaft, large vein going up the side that made her mouth water. A ruddy pink tip, wet from the slit. Weighted in her hands, she could feel him twitch as she dragged her hand up him and closed her fingers around the tip with a hum, fully freeing him from the confines.

“Such a pretty boy.” She praised, taking him back in her fist before looking up at him. “May I?” The softness of her voice seemed to do something for him. He looked pliant and soft, but his eyes were heated. His hand went to her hair, gently pulling it from her face.

“You can do whatever you want to me, darling. I know you��ll be sweet. I’m not going to last very long at all, though.” It had his cheeks flushing to admit it but she had to be warned. Simply seeing her hold him in her hand was making his head a bit light. It had been quite a while. Before he had even left his old town, it had been a while because casual sex wasn’t his thing. Even still, he never felt the attraction quite like this beforehand.

“That’s okay.” She soothed, leaning her head down and pressing a kiss to the wet tip. “You’re quite big. Don’t want my jaw to be too sore tomorrow anyways, hm? Though I don’t know if that’s an option.” Her words caused hot breath to wash over the length, his body shivering again. Lips pursed as she spit thickly over him, using it as lubrication to stroke. Slow, tight, Harry’s mouth opened in a soft moan as she did so.

“Damn it.”

“Damn what?” She laughed under her breath, moving her hand so she could take a lick. Starting straight from the base, the hot tongue ran slowly from bottom to top, eyes locking with his as she did so. There was slight disbelief in them as she rubbed the head over the tip of her tongue while her hand returned it’s languid strokes. “Does it feel good?”

“It does. Feels fucking incredible.” He swallowed, spreading his legs further so she could get closer. “You look… perfect. Like you’re the only one meant to be there.” Any other fantasy he’s had about anyone else was suddenly null and void. No way would anyone else look as right sitting between his legs like this.

“Maybe I am.” Lips wrapped around the sensitive head of him, making him bite down on his own lip to keep from being too loud. He could feel her sucking him slowly into her mouth, tongue flicking right against the slit as she sunk down just a bit. The wet stroke of her fist was steady and firm, just the way he wanted it right now.

“You are, you are.” His breathing picked up as he cautiously wrapped the gathered hair around his fist. “Just like that, Sugar. Bein’ so sweet to me. My sweetest girl.” He praised, watching her pop off of him to spit again. It was a bit of a sloppier blowie but fuck, did he prefer it this way. Slow, wet, her eyes doing their best to keep on his. This was intimate. Hot. Of course she knew. Somehow, she had known what he needed since they met.

“Want to me your sweetest girl. Hope I’m the only one.” The tiny bit of possessive edge to her words was amplified as she took him into her mouth again, sucking a bit harder. Harry moaned in surprise, hips jerking slightly and making her take more- but she took it in stride, gagging a bit but pushing herself further. Trying to prove a point.

“Oh- f-fuck, you are. The only one, the only- shit, baby.” He gasped as he felt her gag again. This time though, she did it to herself. Stroking him slow and tight but feeling her contract around his cock with her mouth, it was bringing him close quicker than he wanted to. “I’m not going to l-last long if you do that. It feels too good. Been waiting so long for you.” Their natural chemistry had made the sexual one even better, Harry panting heavily as she paid attention to exactly how he liked it. Replicating the things that were making his breathing hitch or deepen. He couldn’t wait until he could do the same for her.

The mere sight was enough to bring him to the edge. Wet hand stroking up and down, lips stretched around as she lazily sucked before pushing deeper to make herself gag a little because she knew he liked it now, teary eyes and a few stains when she did it too hard and made herself cry a bit. It was a filthy painting come to life.

“You’re so beautiful. A fucking vision, Y/N. Been imagining it for ages but it’s even better.” His praises continued as she pulled off for a breath, a smile on those pretty swollen lips. Somehow, that made him throb. Her smile itself. It made him horny. As soon as her mouth went back down on him again, he knew. It was almost over. “M’gonna cum so soon, darling. So fucking soon, you’ve made me feel so good.”

The wet sound of her hand pumping him was dirty and hot, her other hand cupping his balls delicately as she brought him further down her throat again. He hated that it was so close to the end because it felt so good; this entire thing did, and he wanted to last longer. “Could spend hours in this pretty little mouth, down your throat. Feels like heaven, baby. Fuck, just keep doing that. I’m almost there. That’s good, good fuckin’ girl.” The depth of his voice changed, and Y/N knew. She could feel him pulsing, twitching as she continues the pace just as he had liked it. She only pulled off once more to speak to him in a slightly wrecked voice.

“Give it to me. Cum for me, I want all of it. Please.” She didn’t waist for his reply before going back, tightening her hand and sucking a bit harder, trying to coax it from him. It didn’t take much more at all before he was tensing, a groan that was a bit too loud of her name leaving him as he began his orgasm. The load spilling inside of her mouth which she swallowed promptly, stroking until he placed his hand over hers and used the grip on her hair to pull her off and back on top of him.

Hungrily, his mouth descended on hers, licking into it and getting a taste. It was then mixed together, her sweet mouth and his slightly bitter cum that she had taken from him without complaint. He was dazed and hot, pulling some more wet kisses from her before pulling back to breathe, her forehead resting on his as she tucked him back into his briefs.

“Fucks sake.” He exhaled in a puff, shaking his head with a laugh of disbelief. “Where did you come from, hm? How did you do that so easily?” His hands gripped her thighs and pulled her to lay on top of him, Y/N following with the newfound sense of comfort.

“Hm. Some say heaven, some say hell. I’d like to think I grew from the flowers.” The voice she gave was hoarse, a bit wrecked from the gagging she had inflicted in order to give him pleasure, but she would be fine tomorrow.

“Hm. I’d agree. Beautiful flower you are.” His heart was going a kilometer a minute which she could feel as she placed her head on his chest for a moment. Hers matched the pace, all for a different reason. “Wish I could I could be returning the favor but… you’ll give me what I want soon, yeah?” The words were playful but she knew he genuinely meant them. It kind of made her giddy, if she was being honest. No one had ever been this impatient to pleasure her, so part of her didn’t want to believe it but… Harry wasn’t lying. She knew that. Y/N had a good radar for that.

“I will. I’m not going to hold out too much. I don’t think I could take it, honestly.” Her poor cunt. It had its own heartbeat and her panties were wrecked, but she had perfect material to get off to later. “But thank you. For being so… you. I’ve never felt more comfortable doing stuff like this and… I dont know.”’she flushed, hiding her face back in his shirt. “Just.. know that I’m really comfortable and happy with you. And it means a lot that you aren’t truly upset I’m making us wait to do more.”

Harry sighed. It made him angry that he could feel that other people had most likely done that to her in the past. Sex and pleasure was all about consent. With no consent, no mutual understanding, there was no point. Harry wouldn’t do it. It was his most serious rule. “Sugar, I want more than sex from you, just to be clear. And consent is serious with me. You said not today, regardless of the reason, that’s good with me. Besides… I’m perfectly happy right now. A bit tired though.” The yawn ripped through him without meaning to.

“Sorry, sorry. You sucked the soul out of me. Literally.” The pair giggled, the giddiness of post sex catching up to them. Before the reality sunk into Y/N.

“Fuck. We definitely took longer than an hour. She’s going to kick my ass!” Y/N squeaked, sitting up from Harry’s lap and adjusting her clothes. “We got to go, I owe her an hour break too.” Delilah’s glare was no joke. Y/N did not want to be on the receiving end of it. She may be her best friend but even Y/N was secretly a bit intimidated by the power she held.

“Oh, oops.” Harry’s lazy smile was not understanding the magnitude of Delilah, but he zipped his pants back up as she tried to fix her hair. “Hey, relax. It’s okay. I’m going to run to the bakery and grab some more muffins and fix it.” No one could resist muffins, let alone the blueberry crunch. Right?

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